Li Fan stands alone in the sky, with three Heavenly Gods towering over him, their terrifying presence extremely oppressive.
The disciples of Li Mountain look up to the sky, recalling the time when Lingxiao Pavilion challenged their sword, and Jiang Taie crushed Li Mountain's next generation of sword cultivators to the point of breathlessness. In that moment of despair, a young man dressed in white emerged with his sword.
And now, it is still that silhouette, that spine, holding up Li Mountain.
One man, standing face to face with the three greatest Saints in the world.
"Achieving the path through the physical body, truly a talent beyond measure. But, Li Fan, can your singular path support Li Mountain?" said the temple master of Taiping Temple.
"Amitabha Buddha, a thousand-year Li Mountain will cease to exist; it is a pity."
