Everyone invited today was a Mystic God.
The second to arrive was White Impermanence, sect master of the Severing Cloud Sect. Dressed in black, he was as sharp as a blade, even tearing open the Space Gate as he emerged.
"Heavenly Gifted Pill Saint, you arrived early," said White Impermanence.
"This gathering was my idea, so naturally I had to arrive early." Heavenly Gifted Pill Saint pointed to the seat beside him. "Sect Master Bai, this way, please."
White Impermanence strode over to the table, seized the long saber at his waist, and thrust it—sheath and all—into the ground before taking his seat. The saber stood straight, and so did he.
"Please, have some tea," Heavenly Gifted Pill Saint invited.
"What is there to drink about tea? Change it to wine!" White Impermanence picked up the teacup before him, and it instantly became a wine bowl brimming with strong liquor, as though he were performing a magic trick. He raised the bowl and drank boldly.
None who attained the Mystic God Realm were Ordinary People; each possessed their own peerless bearing.
"For this alliance, how many Mystic Gods do you think you can win over?" White Impermanence asked.
"However many come, that is how many I can win over," Heavenly Gifted Pill Saint replied steadily.
"You certainly are confident."
"We are all intelligent people. When the nest overturns, no egg remains intact. If we want to preserve ourselves, we must join forces. You are not joining hands for my sake, but for your own."
"To be frank, Fan Sha once tried to recruit me and demanded that I submit to him. I feared his strength and did not dare refuse him to his face. Later, Fan Lang changed my mind. The Soaring Dragon Continent is blessed with outstanding people and