The seasons of Vast Heaven and Earth and the Savage World had once been exact opposites: day here, night there; summer here, winter there. But now that the two worlds had so many points of contact, their celestial patterns had developed subtle deviations.
Chen Ping'an took out a flask of wine from his own wine shop. Sensing a faint shift in the atmosphere, he thought it might snow. He turned to look at the city wall far to his right, the place where he had unified with the Dao. No one was there.
If he stayed a few more days, it would be one man and half a city, meeting again when the snow fell.
As he drank, a joke Cui Dongshan had once made came unbidden to mind: in some people's eyes, the human world was an empty city.
Chen Ping'an gazed into the distance again. Though he knew it would be futile, he could not help looking a few more times.
He wondered how A Liang's sword fight was going, and whether his senior brother Zuo had reached the battlefield.
Deep in the Savage World,
ten thousand miles of mountains and rivers had become a battlefield.
It was a perilous encirclement involving two mighty Fourteen Realms cultivators, yet the man they had surrounded held the initiative at every turn.
A fire dragon formed of sword intent hung high in the sky, circling coil upon coil like a serpent. Its flames lit a thousand miles around as though the land had fallen into a furnace.
In the Savage World, it was truly a spectacle worthy of dragons and serpents roaming the vast wilds.
Across the earth spread a shimmering golden mirror, ripples passing over it. Millions of characters floated within, each one like a ferry crossing.
One man's sword