The Yunzhou Martial Gathering had come to a complete close.
The crowds around the True Martial Platform gradually dispersed, and the earth-shaking cheers slowly subsided.
Sect Masters and heads of great families departed one after another, some returning to their sects and estates, others privately discussing the new landscape of martial affairs in Cloud Province.
The several prodigies who had once clashed fiercely each returned to their respective groups, silently regulating their breathing and tending to their wounds.
The setbacks and shocks of today's battle were deeply branded into everyone's hearts.
The Bitao Sect party was steeped in dead silence. Liu Canglan was like a rat crossing the street, keeping his head lowered in silence throughout, without a trace of his former arrogance.
The Kaoshan Sect, on the other hand, was high-spirited. Every member stood tall, their eyes brimming with the wild joy of finally holding their heads high.
Situ Lie and Qin Xuanyue were exchanging pleasantries and coordinating matters with several provincial martial officials.
They were preparing to finalize the immense quantity of martial resources, military equipment, medicinal herbs, and martial appointments that would belong to the sect this year.
As the clamor ended and the crowds scattered, Wang Yuan descended the towering True Martial Platform alone.
Passing through the crowds of martial cultivators and common folk, he spotted at once the slender figure standing quietly in a corner of the stands.
It was Zhang Mingyuan himself.
Compared with the dazzling prodigies of great sects and powerful martial experts in the arena,
Zhang Mingyuan, dressed in extremely plain cloth garments, appeared especially ordinary and insignificant amid the crowd.
Only his eyes shone brightly.
Wang Yuan's steps paused slightly before he walked straight over.
"Brother Zhang, long time no see."
Those simple words shed the domineering sharpness with which he