Above the Celestial Vault, a dead silence reigned.
The ashes of Guan Si Hai, who had exploded into dust, still drifted through the void.
Faint specks of golden afterglow, like a final sigh, swiftly dimmed and vanished in the astral winds, ultimately returning to nothingness.
And yet, the figure in deep blue, hands clasped behind his back, remained standing quietly in the same spot.
His deep blue Daoist robe was perfectly still. His ink-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, and his expression was as placid as a ten-thousand-year-old well.
It was as if the one who had just been turned to dust was not the Acting Sect Leader of the Tyrant Sect, not one of the four titans of the Central Plains Righteous Dao.
But merely an insignificant speck of dust.
Those vast, cyan gold eyes did not even spare the drifting ashes a single glance.
He just stood there quietly, his calm gaze sweeping over the figures frozen like statues across the Celestial Vault.
