Mountains encircled the area, where numerous Fourth-grade Spirit Veins converged amid swirling clouds and mist. It was truly an Immortal Sect Holy Land, the seat of Northern Plains' strongest sect and the last center of resistance for the Northern Plains human race.
At the heart of the region stood a mountain piercing the clouds, where several top-grade Fourth-grade Spirit Veins gathered.
True Monarch Jianyang sat cross-legged upon a stone platform.
His features were imposing and ancient, and every movement he made compelled others to watch, heed, and obey him. Even Nascent Soul True Lords before him would not dare speak loudly without cause.
"Tianyang, how much strength does your Great Sun Law Sect have left?"
True Monarch Jianyang asked indifferently.
Before him sat an old Daoist with kindly features and a tall crown, holding a flowing horsetail whisk that shimmered like stardust. He remained silent, deep in thought.
This man was True Monarch Tianyang, the Grand Elder of the Great Sun Law Sect.
The two Peak Nascent Soul Cultivators were clearly mortal enemies, yet there was no drawn-sword tension between them now. They sat together in peace, as though all the bloodshed and slaughter of the past had merely been an illusion.
"The Golden Core disciples are more or less all dead."
After pondering for a moment, True Monarch Tianyang chose not to conceal the grim truth.
"Most of the Nascent Soul Cultivators in the sect escaped. Only eleven or twelve still retain their Dharma bodies. The rest have only a Nascent Soul left and will be unable to recover Nascent Soul-level strength for at least several decades."
"Acceptable."
"Most of the Nascent Souls escaped. That is not bad."
True Monarch Jianyang nodded.
The two looked at one another, speechless.
No one knew how much time passed.
"How will we