"Sword One, Sword Two."
Chen Yuan stopped and nodded slightly to the two old men.
They were the Dao servants guarding Immortal Burial Cliff. Ever since Daoist Wuzhen entered seclusion, they had remained here without moving a single step away.
Their cultivation was unfathomable, and they obeyed Daoist Wuzhen alone.
The old man named Sword One slowly raised his head. His cloudy eyes held no emotion.
"Sect Leader, please leave."
His voice was dry and hoarse, like two pieces of rusted iron scraping together.
The other old man, Sword Two, said nothing. He merely rested his hand on the hilt of the plain wooden sword at his waist.
The tension instantly reached its breaking point.
"Gentlemen, I have come today on a matter of utmost urgency. I must see Grandmaster."
A trace of pleading entered Chen Yuan's voice.
"The patriarch has ordered that no one disturb him during seclusion."
Sword One's voice remained just as cold, leaving not the slightest room for negotiation.
"Those who trespass will die."
Chen Yuan's expression darkened.
He knew these two Dao servants' temperaments. In their world, nothing existed but their master's orders.
Never mind him, the Sect Leader—even if the King of Heaven himself came, they would not yield an inch.
"This concerns Shushan's fortune for the next ten thousand years, and Grandmaster's own Dao Path! Please make an exception!"
Chen Yuan spoke more forcefully.
Yet Sword One merely shook his head slowly.
Faint strands of Sword Qi had already begun curling around Sword Two's hand on the hilt.
A battle seemed ready to erupt at the slightest touch.
Chen Changqing had stood behind Chen Yuan the entire time, quietly watching.
He could sense that these two old men were immensely powerful.
Neither was weaker than his martial uncle, Bai Wuya, the White-clothed Spear