Yi Shan City.
The mighty city stood tall, Dharma Light flowing around it. A middle-aged man clad in Black Gold Spirit Armor stood atop a Golden Shuttle, his eyes like hawks underneath his sharp brows, gazing into the distance.
His Spirit Armor was dark as black gold, glistening with scale-like luster, perfectly blending with the Golden Bow behind him. The rhombic Flying Shuttle beneath his feet emanated piercing Metal Gang aura.
The grinding of years had tempered his ambition; his gaze hung slightly downward, eyes half-lidded, all his sharpness hidden inside, polished and accumulated, waiting to be unleashed.
Li Xuanfeng rode the wind up from atop the city wall, pausing for a moment. In the distant sea of trees, demons were circling, yet they made no move to come forward. He landed back on the wall. A few people ascended from below—mostly young, unfamiliar faces.
Only one middle-aged man stepped forward, dignified and gentle-looking, his voice soft as he said:
