"Dynasties change, heroes fall, geniuses rise only to die young..."
His finger paused on the stone. "But there's one thing I see very clearly."
"What?"
"This era was always destined to change."
The black-haired elder turned around. The faint blue light reflecting on his face made his eyes seem exceptionally profound.
"The Rifts are growing more numerous, and the Mutants are becoming stronger. Ten years ago, a Level Three Rift was enough to throw an entire province into turmoil."
"And now? Level Four Rifts are springing up like mushrooms, and even Level Five Rifts have started to appear."
He walked back to his meditation cushion and sat down again.
"Great Yan needs powerhouses—experts capable of defending our territories. As for where these powerhouses come from... does it really matter?"
The white-browed elder was silent for a long while before slowly nodding.
