One month later, on Yunmiao Mountain, where the Kaoshan Sect's headquarters stood.
The mountain path wound upward from the foot of the mountain. Its stone steps had been freshly paved with bluestone slabs, and banners of every color lined both sides.
There were the crimson banners of Chiyan Valley, the subdued white banners of Tingyu Tower, the mystic iron banners of the Kaoshan Sect, and hundreds of banners, large and small, belonging to other powers. They snapped and billowed in the mountain wind, stretching from the foot of the mountain all the way to its waist.
Every few paces between the banners stood a martial artist in fitted combat clothes, a saber at his waist and his posture ramrod straight. Their clothing and insignia marked them as members of different powers, yet they all stood with the same disciplined bearing.
Today, Yunmiao Mountain had gathered almost every sect, great lineage, and gang of any standing in Cloud Province. The three great powers-the Kaoshan Sect, Chiyan Valley, and Tingyu Tower-went without saying.
Dozens of mid-sized powers, including the Iron Sword Sect, Clear Spring Valley, Cangyan Fortress, and Setting Sun Manor, had all arrived, along with hundreds of smaller sects and powerful local lineages.
Though called the founding assembly of the Abyss Alliance, it was, in truth, the first grand occasion in a century to bring all of Cloud Province's powers together.
People streamed along the mountain path like threads through a loom. Clothes of every style and dialects from every region mingled, lending the clamor an indescribable warmth.
There were lone rogue cultivators wearing swords, heads of small lineages bringing their entire families, visibly ill-at-ease local wealthy folk, and skilled martial artists traveling in groups of three or five, their eyes gleaming.
Normally, these people each held sway over their own