One year and seven months.
It was early in the morning, the sun had not yet risen, and cold mist permeated the Great Mountain, a white haze obscuring all vision.
"Whoosh—"
"Whoosh—"
Suddenly.
Amidst the spine of endless mountains, within a mysterious mountain stream, there came the buzzing sound of objects swiftly piercing through the air.
If one could concentrate and part the fog to see.
They would see a small, tender figure hovering in the air between peaks ravaged by wild winds, surrounded by swirling dense Spiritual Qi. With fingers moving slightly, forming seals continuously, while above this figure, a pocket-sized flying sword swiftly formed. Soon, a pocket-sized flying sword filled with destructive aura took shape.
"Hah—"
A light shout, and the pocket-sized flying sword above shot out fiercely, flying straight into the depths of the mountain stream.
Amid the buzzing sound.
