Zhou Yi nodded slightly.
"Quickly rebuild the peaks and halls of the sect. In one year, hold the Sect Leader Ceremony!"
Having said that.
Zhou Yi transformed into a streak of escaping light, flying towards Mystic Iron Temple.
The firmament of the mortal practicing ground was as sturdy as a Supreme Treasure, undamaged even by the magic duels of True Gods. It was one of the few caves on the mountain that remained intact.
Sitting cross-legged, he resembled the Iron Crown Immortal from years past.
"In the blink of an eye, more than three thousand years have passed, and I have finally reached the pinnacle of the Mortal World from a humble Daoist Lord!"
Zhou Yi calmed his mind and thought carefully about his future path.
He had already learned that ascension was an illusion, and the status of the Immortal Realm had greatly diminished in his heart. Two paths lay before him.