As Huang Zhen and Zhu Lu drank tea beneath the vines along Hua Yang Palace's mountain path, listening to Dao sentiment, Zheng Juzhong and Liu Xiang crossed the mountain gate archway and stepped into Luopo Mountain's territory.
An ancient ruin, a new battlefield.
The ground had long since become a crisscrossing maze of ravines, devastation as far as the eye could see. Fist auras, Sword Qi, and martial fortune tangled together, throwing heaven and earth into chaos.
It was as if the entire blue sky were beginning to totter and collapse. Streams of glaze-colored Dao rhyme, scorched and melted, kept dripping down into the human world.
The two figures brushed past one another. Jiang She twisted his wrist, and the body he had snapped in half at the waist split into two sections in midair.
Even though Jiang Shangzhen had witnessed scenes like this countless times, he still felt strangely unsettled. They all said Dao Cultivators were no longer human, but what about their Mountain Lord?
Cui Dongshan remained expressionless, merely staring fixedly at Jiang She. There truly was no opening to exploit, and he truly was monstrously abnormal.
Over the endless passage of ten thousand years, as times changed, that Joint Slaying had rendered the so-called First Ancestor of the School of Military illegitimate in name and standing. Only the title remained, and for ten thousand years, he had received no incense offerings.
His Yin God had yet to return to its rightful place.
An Eleventh Realm Martial Cultivator, yet five portions of martial fortune were battling within the Human Body as World, forcing Jiang She to fend off external foes while suppressing internal unrest.
On top of that, Zheng Juzhong was invisibly suppressing his Great Dao.
And Wu Shuang Jiang still stood nearby like a tiger watching its