Inside the Clear Sky Sect's main hall.
The oppressive debate continued, and the air was thick with tension.
Sect Master Tang Xiao stood with his brows tightly furrowed, staring at the five elders who refused to yield an inch—especially the Seventh Elder, whose eyes were bloodshot and whose hatred seemed boundless. His heart was filled with helplessness.
He understood the Seventh Elder's grief over losing his son, and he also understood the resentment Second Elder and the others felt toward the sect's decline.
But how could he easily accept them blaming everything on his younger brother, Tang Hao, and taking their anger out on his nephew, Tang San, who only wanted to reclaim his ancestral identity?
Tang Yuehua stood to the side, her beautiful face filled with anxiety and helplessness.
She controlled most of the economic lifelines of the Clear Sky Sect after it had sealed itself away, but before these stubborn elders, her influence was negligible.
She wanted to speak up for her second brother, Tang Hao, and fight for a fair chance for her nephew, Tang San.
Yet every time she tried to speak, she was silenced by the Seventh Elder's hate-filled gaze and Second Elder's indifferent "sect rules."
Just as the stalemate continued and the atmosphere grew increasingly heavy—
"Reporting—!!!"
Urgent, panicked voices came from outside the hall. A moment later, several travel-worn disciples with ashen faces came tumbling inside, not even having time to salute.
The short-tempered Seventh Elder was already bursting with anger. Seeing this, he slammed his palm onto the armrest and shouted, "What are you doing?! Why are you panicking like this? Where are your manners?! Has the sky collapsed or something?!"
The disciples shuddered in fright. The one at the front dropped to his knees with a thud, his voice choked with