The moon was bright and the stars were few. Zhao Xuanqi stood on high, his clothes snapping in the night wind.
His eyes were slightly closed, his head tilted back, as if he were once again connecting with some great power that resided in the land itself.
Before, he needed to borrow from the world's momentum to break through to a new realm. Now, the world's momentum stirred because of him. The feeling was completely different.
Incredibly profound.
After a long moment, he slowly opened his eyes and gazed toward the distant city.
An ordinary person would only be able to make out a rough silhouette, but his eyesight was sharper than a hawk's, allowing him to clearly see the smoke from cooking fires and the glow of lamps within the city.
Two years ago, Shangjing, as the capital of the Divine Land, had been a picture of prosperity. At night, its streets were brightly lit and teeming with people.
