Jun Xiaoyao stood gracefully in the void, his white clothes whiter than snow, billowing as they caught the wind.
Dao patterns surged around him, and ten thousand rays of light appeared, truly resembling a son of the Immortal Emperor, a descendant of the divine, carrying an essence of sanctity, transcendence, and supremacy.
"Is it... Jun... Jun... Jun Xiaoyao?" A celestial pride from the Dragon-man Race witnessed this, his eyes bulging with extreme shock, unable to speak coherently.
Not only he, but the other celestial prides of the Dragon-man Race also looked as if they had seen a ghost, their faces full of disbelief.
Indeed, it was as if they had seen a ghost.
Because had Jun Xiaoyao not already fallen within the Bronze Immortal Hall?
How was he now alive and standing before them?
"Am I seeing things?" Some from the Dragon-man Race rubbed their eyes desperately, yet Jun Xiaoyao's figure remained standing upon the sky.
