At this moment, Han Tiange stood motionless, clearly sensing the terrifying power of the old man beside him.

The pressure emanating from the old man was as deep as an abyss, barely perceptible.

Or rather, everything he felt was only what the old man allowed him to feel.

Ling Daoyan, as the guardian of the Scripture Pavilion of the Great Xia Sword Sect, rarely showed himself.