Su Ming stood in midair as the clouds and fog behind him tumbled about and opened a crack in the air whose inside could not be seen. Within it purple lightning roared, giving Su Ming an air of mystery and mighty pressure in the eyes of the tens of thousands of cultivators.

His presence swept out in all directions and suppressed all the cultivation base of the people on the land. It was not a mighty pressure formed by his purple Ecang, but his own power.

With it, Su Ming was like a God as he swept his gaze across the land. The hearts of all the cultivators who entered his field of vision trembled, and they immediately lowered their heads. Unable to help themselves, they kneelt on the ground and worshiped him.

When Su Ming's gaze landed on an old man who was staring at him with a sentimental look while sitting among the stone monuments, he could vaguely recognize that it was Zhou Kang—the middle-aged man from back when he'd first come there.

Quite some time had passed since then, and