Fortress

The fortress gleamed with armor, its atmosphere grim and murderous—spears stood like a forest, swords shone like frost.

Bai Yujun, dressed in a lightweight white combat outfit, did not look particularly out of place. White robes were beloved by many cultivators; perhaps they were neither surnamed Bai nor white demons, but no one could resist that flowing elegance and ever-present flamboyance.

Black Horse snorted, frightening off cultivators and soldiers who wanted to come closer for a look, his gaze vicious.

"What a fine horse!"

Such a majestic demon horse clad in armor was exceedingly rare, and those in the army envied it.

Even cultivators had few who could command demon beasts, and even fewer had mounts. There were only a handful of Black Horse's caliber in all the Central Plains. There were many demon horses, but no one could raise a horse that grew scales.

Shaking his head and tossing his long mane, Black Horse truly deserved the words majestic steed. Beside other horses, he was like an adult among children.

"Stay put. Don't run around."

Bai Yujun released the reins, took out half a sack of finely made bean cakes to feed him, then lightly climbed the steps toward the Chunyang Palace residence, looking around from time to time.

Chunyang Palace's grounds within the fortress covered a vast area. Countless fellow disciples hurried past, flying away on swords or landing from the sky, their faces exhausted. Some were even wounded. The Lingxu branch was busily treating them, and occasionally Rogue Cultivators, cultivators from smaller sects, and ordinary soldiers came seeking medical care as well.

Several young Lingxu disciples, barely over ten years old, helped bandage wounds and apply medicine.

These days, Lingxu disciples studying medicine had acquired another skill: performing sutures on those with external injuries.

Bai Yujun had