Rushing out of the Second Holy Temple, facing the spectacle before them, the remaining twenty thousand powerful beings had no choice but to halt.
"What is this?" The crowd wore expressions of surprise and doubt.
Before them lay not a path paved with stars but a river, exceptionally beautiful, moonlit in hue.
Yang Qinglan took a single glance, and, faster than the other powerful beings, comprehended the essence of the river: "A river formed by the gathering of starlight."
A star monkey flicked its finger, sending a mote of starlight spiraling forth, transforming into a clone, charging onto the river of starlight.
The clone, immensely powerful, could pick stars and snatch moons as a trivial matter, yet upon reaching the river of starlight, lost all mana.
"Splash!"
The clone fell into the river, causing the powerful beings present to blanch.
