Under the overwhelming Immortal might, all the youths were as silent as cicadas in winter; after the voice fell, there was a deathly stillness for several breaths, even those with some backing were intimidated.
Whoosh!
The crowd surged forward, two beats slower.
A dense, dark mass—at the very least ten or twenty thousand people.
The leading expert swept his gaze around and flicked his sleeve.
Swish!
A streak of Immortal light soared into the sky, transforming into a small, tower-shaped Immortal seal, spinning rapidly in midair.
Ancient Immortal radiance spread out like a tide, showering down and enveloping everyone.
Xu Yang only felt his whole body tighten; that Immortal light seemed to pierce through his bones, sweeping over him. Immediately after, a line of numbers floated before his eyes: seventeen!
"Is this... age?"
Xu Yang was stunned, his expression turning peculiar.
He was already nineteen.
How did it become seventeen?
