Han Zong

At a distant location not far from the city, a group of cultivators soared through the sky on their flying swords, leaving ling Qi ripples behind them.

Among them was a young man stepping on a three, four zhang long flying sword. The flying sword was silver in color, and an impressive aura radiated from it.

"Senior Brother, you must really complete the mission given by the elders properly this time. Otherwise, you'll be stuck in the sect for the next hundred years, unable to leave!" a young girl with bearing akin to a fairy's said with some worry in her voice.

"Alright, alright, I understand. But seriously, isn't the whole point of cultivation just so that we could live a longer life? What's the use of fighting and killing all day long, risking our lives?"

The youth yawned lazily as though he hadn't gotten enough sleep.