The dilapidated Daluo Heaven.
A desolate ruin.
The world seems to have been torn apart by a great force, transforming into several massive islands, drifting alone in the void.
All around, menacing spatial rifts pervade, concealing destructive power; even an ordinary True Immortal attaining Dao will be instantly obliterated upon contact.
Amidst a swirl of purple clouds and beneath a gray wall, twelve majestic stone columns rise proudly, like pillars of heaven, steadfastly supporting the collapsing realm.
At the distant end, a great door stands silently, half entangled with withered wood, the other half in utter disrepair.
The purple clouds suddenly emit a thunderous sound, "How are you all faring?"
Beneath the columns, an elder, whose face is half normal and half withered wood, first breaks the silence, his voice tinged with weariness: "Cangtian, I suffer from Dao Injury, requiring perhaps a hundred thousand years to recover."
