Xuanming Immortal Destiny
The Underworld Star was originally a world of beasts. For millions of years, the eight great beast clans had been fighting each other all year round. Blood flowed like rivers on the Underworld Star, forming an endless sea.
10,000 years ago, the Xuan cultivators killed their way into the Netherworld Star, exterminated Qiongqi, killed Taowu, exiled Taotie and Hundun, and captured the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise.
10,000 years later, the world of war descended once again.
The story began here.
Hong Tian was a fourteen or fifteen-year-old youth, a servant disciple of the Myriad Dao Sect's Spirit Plant Hall. He had the reverse spirit root of water and fire, and was at the first qi layer.
He was aloof from worldly affairs. He only wanted to cultivate to the fourth qi layer so that he would be qualified to go down the mountain to train and meet his grandfather, whom he had not seen for many years.
However, the senior brother who was close to him suddenly died. He lost his identity as a servant of the Spirit Plants Hall and returned to the outer sect.
He wanted to help his senior find out the truth, but the news was leaked and he fell into someone else's trap.
Fortunately, not only did he discover that he possessed the Wind Spiritual Root, but he also obtained a cultivation method for the Wind Spiritual Root.
He cultivated day and night.
He fought with his enemies to the death.
One by one, his enemies were reduced to dust.
Until one day, a beast tide broke out. The 10,000-year crisis of the Netherworld Star had arrived!
With his extraordinary ability, Hong Tian gradually walked to the front of the Celestial Gate and the four Beast Gods. He suppressed the Beast Tide and protected the heavenly world. Even if he was attacked by the axe, he was fearless!
He was Hongtian!
Cultivators loved and feared him, mortals worshipped him, and in the vast world, he left behind a "legend of heaven"!
There is poetry; the poetry friendship; the one that has in time the time of truth. There is a poetry that flies in the wind and never disappear or get lost in sincerity. There is a poetry that screams without raising the volume of the voice because your language and the heart. There is a poetry that is this or any other but that exists out there: and the heart.