Martial Dao Sacred Land, a certain remote and mysterious sanctuary.
Deep within the mist-laden mountains, a shadow shot out from a colossal cavern, soaring sky-high and hovering in the void.
As the clouds in the horizon dispersed, his figure gradually emerged.
It was a tall middle-aged man clad in a golden robe. His face resembled fine jade, and an innate commanding presence radiated from his brow, instilling awe without anger. Standing there, he resembled an indomitable iron tower.
Suspended in mid-air, his demeanor was stern and majestic.
"This retreat has lasted thirty years... I wonder how Yonah is doing now."
Suddenly, the middle-aged man muttered softly, his imposing expression rarefied with tenderness, as if the mere mention of 'Yonah' wielded an extraordinary power over him.
"Hmph! If it weren't for those old fools keeping such a tight watch, I wouldn't be stuck here… But give me another thousand years, and I won't need to fear those senile relics any longer."
