Although Han Yan spoke in such a casual, offhand way, as if the cultivation of a Seventh-order Divine Heart Priest didn't count as anything remarkable to her, Sikong Qinglan and the others beside her were already so shocked they couldn't even speak.
They had always thought Han Yan was a cultivation genius, a prodigy, a monster of talent, but only at this moment did they realize that "genius," "prodigy," "monster"—none of these were enough to describe the Master Priest's natural talent. She was simply an existence that defied the heavens.
Her gift was probably enough to make even the heavens jealous. Even if a bolt of Heavenly Thunder were to fall right on her head now, no one would feel the least bit surprised. Of course, they also believed that even if heavenly thunder really did crash down on her, it probably still wouldn't be able to do a thing to their Master Priest.
Gazing at Han Yan, the eyes of everyone present once again burned with the fervent light of devout believers.
