Blacklands, in the middle of the desert.
An elderly man staggered through the whirling sands, looking as though he was in his final years and about to pass away.
A figure tore through the air and arrived.
"Rui!"
The newcomer prostrated on the ground, kissing the old man's toes.
"Praka, it's you. Why do you disturb my arduous cultivation?" The old man, Rui, stroked the newcomer's head, a benevolent smile gracing his wrinkled face.
Praka said respectfully, "Most exalted Rui, in the East, the Shen Lang you have been observing has left his seclusion."
"Oh? Has he broken through? No, that's impossible. If he had succeeded, the power would be so vast that I would have surely sensed it." Rui was puzzled.
Praka said, "All-knowing Rui, you are truly peerless in your wisdom. Shen Lang has not broken through. He has left seclusion to challenge the contemporary myth, Lin Wudi."
"When?"
"Today. Right now."
"What a shame. I am going to miss the pinnacle battle of our time."
