...
Outside the battlefields of the Burying Moon Mountain Dream World cluster, the winds of change were stirring.
Fang Yang's sudden eruption of power, which had allowed him to slay a host of young Great Saints, had sent ripple after ripple through the world.
Countless beings had their destinies altered because of him.
Yet he himself was still in quiet, secluded cultivation, even living quite comfortably.
He showed no sign of being the one stirring up such a storm.
A sliver of red light appeared on the horizon as the sun struggled to break free and climb into the sky. Mist coiled through the mountain forests, its vapor hazy and indistinct.
Finally, a colossal white eagle spread its wings, bathed in the crimson sun, and soared between the mountains and forests with a thunderous cry.
The White Feathered Eagle!
"Is that still a White Feathered Eagle? It's completely different from the one I remember," Su Xi marveled, her voice as clear and pleasant as a spring striking stone.
