Outside the gates.
"Let's go as well," one of the youths in the crowd suggested, his voice tight with a mixture of greed and hesitation.
However, despite the allure of the silver gates, no one dared to make a move.
The atmosphere outside the portal had become toxic, thick with the murderous intent of the desperate old men, who had seen their path to immortality barred by the age restriction, and were now like cornered beasts.
They were the "rotting wood" of the cultivation world—possessing high cultivation but no future—and they looked ready to slaughter every youth present simply out of a petty desire to see no one else succeed where they had failed.
Just then, a cold, mocking laugh rang out.
"Hmph! You people who don't even have the courage to move forward, how dare you call yourselves cultivators? I am ashamed to be at the same level as you all!"
It was Ao Long, the Crown Prince of the Blue Wind Kingdom.
