More than a hundred young martial artists gathered in Tianze City Square, waiting quietly.
Before long, the space above the square twisted, and an old man in red slowly emerged—it was the red-robed old man from earlier.
"All of you, follow me!" he commanded.
Under his lead, everyone rapidly set off toward the Immortal Martial Academy.
They soon reached their destination.
Looking ahead, everyone was filled with excitement, and Lin Xuan took a deep breath, his gaze burning with intensity.
There stood two bronze giant gates, each a hundred zhang high, like two towering Qing Shan mountains, standing tall through the ages.
Lin Xuan marveled; he had never seen such majestic gates before, and from them, he felt a surging power and a faint sense of time-worn antiquity.
The red-robed old man cast spell after spell, and soon the bronze giant gates slowly opened.
