Outside the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's main hall, the thin morning mist had yet to disperse, and the white marble-paved plaza glimmered with a faint, chilly sheen.
The bronze wind chimes hanging beneath the eaves remained perfectly still, as though even the air around them had frozen solid.
The attendants on guard held gilded halberds in their hands. Their once-straight backs now bent slightly against their will, their fingertips whitening from the force of their grip until even the carved Cloud Patterns on the shafts had been blurred.
Farther away, the soul masters meditating cross-legged amid the mountain walls surrounding the sect suddenly opened their eyes. The Soul Power within them churned violently out of control, as though some invisible force were about to tear them apart.
Their faces turned pale, their legs trembled faintly, and a sense of submission rising from the depths of their souls washed over them like a tide. Even their breathing became cautious.
The uninformed disciples wore puzzled expressions and instinctively looked toward the main hall, their hands unconsciously resting on the spirit release devices at their waists.
Yet, from the corners of their eyes, they saw that the Soul Fighting Douluo Elders who usually guarded the sect were still sitting with their eyes closed, resting without so much as lifting an eyelid.
Since Sect Master Ning Fengzhi had issued no orders either, they forcibly suppressed the unease in their hearts and lowered their heads again. Still, the trembling in their fingertips refused to subside for a long while.
Among the crowd, several Core Disciples who had once been fortunate enough to witness Sword Douluo Chen Xin demonstrate his abilities abruptly narrowed their eyes and stared fixedly at the tightly shut vermilion doors of the hall.
They exchanged glances, and each saw the same