The three supreme and powerful figures sat there, without any divine aura, without any imposing presence, and even without that soul-stirring pressure.
But just by seeing them, you would feel from the depths of your heart that all the strength, brilliance, and grandeur in the world are nothing but illusions in front of these three figures.
The words powerful and grand might just be mere attachments born to describe the tiniest part of them.
The one sitting in the middle wore a black and white Daoist robe, with a face that was indistinct, but those eyes were exceptionally serene, as if nothing in the world, nor the myriad things of the heavens, could break the silence within those eyes.
On the left was an elder with a head full of white hair, who looked both ancient and youthful, his Daoist robe seemed to be woven from clouds, pure and flawless. His eyes were immensely dignified, as he sat there as if at the center of the world, supreme in holiness and utmost grace.
