Even with the longest lineage, after millions of years weathering storms and sunshine, there will be rises and falls.,All the primordial gods and immortals were reflected in this glimmer of light. Looking through the radiance, their expressions became hazy, and their powerful auras swept across all directions. Millions of miles away, in a place with an aura as deep as an abyss, an eight-armed demon god materialized out of thin air, roaring at the sky, wanting to share the glory of this aura. On top of Mount Xizhi (Westmost Spirit Mountain), countless temples stood tall. When the overwhelming pressure swept over, on the summit of the mountain, a golden lotus bloomed, encompassing Sumeru, gently deflecting the pressure outside, protecting the pure land of the West.,The boy was probably around fourteen or fifteen years old. He was handsome and well-proportioned, with clear eyebrows and bright eyes. At first glance, one could tell he came from a wealthy family.。