Central Plains.
Eastern Sea coast.
The checkpoint passage was already piled high with livestock and carriages, and quite a few shantytowns had packed the area so tightly not even water could seep through.
There were also cultivators seated in several pavilions.
A young man in a green robe, carrying a sword case on his back, arrived beneath the pass as well. Gazing at the hundred-zhang mighty fortress, he ignored the armored soldiers standing in dense ranks around him and calmly walked toward the gate.
Before he could get close, a hovering command plaque abruptly stopped before him.
The plaque kneaded earth into a burly warrior over a zhang tall.
Golden light flickered all over its body, and it held a ring-pommel saber.
In a cold, rigid voice, it said, "Myriad Dharma Sect has sealed the mountain. Please take a seat to the side."
As it spoke, the warrior pointed toward a pavilion nearby.
The youth glanced sideways. Those mortal soldiers posed no threat to him whatsoever, and as a Nascent Soul True Lord, he had no fear of this warrior either.
He called out loudly, "I have urgent business beyond the pass and cannot wait. Please step aside, sir, or do not blame my blade and sword for having no—"
"Young brother."
The youth froze at the words.
The old man in the pavilion beckoned. "Young brother, do not act rashly. A thousand passes ahead are all locked down. Even if you force your way through this pass, you will not get through the others."
Sensing the old man's Spirit Transformation aura, the youth looked at the warrior that was expanding before him. After some thought, he gave up.
"What a pity." Atop the city wall, a Spirit Transformation Venerable in black-and-white Dharma robes squatted with a foxtail grass stem