Cold sweat dampened the state-magus’s entire face, and he clenched his teeth and forcibly braced himself. His clothes and beard were flying back in disarray. As the storm finally abated, he seemed to walk a loop between life and death. He took several deep breaths, his eyes containing incredible respect. At the same time, though, they carried even more envy. He trained his eyes on the burnt-out incense stick. 

Silence. A silence like death. After ten minutes passed, an aged voice echoed, “Present.”

“Immortal Master.” At this moment, the old man was completely without his previous coolness and composure. Instead, he devoutly kneeled on the floor and tapped his head to it. “You spoke correctly, sir. Indeed, a cultivator extremely suspected to be an immortal master from an upper realm has descended upon the State of Shangchen. I ask the Immortal Master to show me how this matter is to be handled.”

“Handle?” the aged voice sneered without the slightest concealment. “You won’t be able to handle him… and he can more or less handle all of you…”

“Of those who can reach ‘Inside’, which one is not a shocking fiend? Or perhaps a demon-king in the flesh? And you lot want to take care of him yourselves?”

The state-magus didn’t dare to raise his head.

“How many years has it been… since This Throne has arrived here… How many...