The void rippled like disturbed water in a remote, forgotten corner of the Northern Continent, thousands of light-years away from the ruins of Fragrant Flower City.
The old man stepped through the jagged spatial rift, his boots hitting the damp earth of a limestone cave hidden deep within the heart of an ancient, overgrown forest.
He stumbled, the sheer weight of his injuries finally catching up to his Heavenly Saint foundation.
He didn't waste a heartbeat, and with his remaining hand, he flicked his wrist, sending out a dozen high-grade formation flags that embedded themselves into the cave walls.
A shimmering, translucent veil of Qi expanded, weaving together complex obscuration and sound-proofing runes.
He had to be absolute; he was currently in a realm administered by the Shen Clan, and the heavens that had protected them during the fight would not shield them from the divine sense of a vengeful Shen Haoran.
