The world is a tapestry of countless stories. Aboard a flying shuttle returning to the Qingyuan Sect, Fang Qingyuan fretted over fifty thousand Top-grade Spirit Stones. Meanwhile, deep in the distant Barbaric Wilderness, another disciple of the Qingyuan Sect fought desperately for his very survival.
In the wilderness, mountains stretched endlessly, often shrouded in a terrifying, dense miasma. For an ordinary Cultivator, a single touch meant certain death.
At dusk, within a Miasma Forest so vast it seemed endless, the daylight had already begun to fade.
A youth in gray robes appeared, panting heavily as he darted through the gaps in the dense foliage.
Slender branches snaked through the air, like venomous serpents trying to block his path.
The youth paid the branches no mind, simply barreling forward. His seemingly frail body erupted with immense force, shattering the branches and leaving a messy trail of destruction in his wake.
