"Senior Yan, what happened?" I hurriedly asked.
"There are many people from the other sects here." Yan Zhen quickened her pace. I could barely keep up as we rushed along from the riverbank. On the cliffside, one suspended abode after another had been built along the river and against the mountain, creating a truly magnificent sight.
Along the riverbank, rusted swords stood scattered everywhere. Some were brand-new, though their edges were chipped and cracked. With so many swords abandoned here, it looked like a river of swords, stretching intermittently for dozens of miles.
The river murmured and flowed. When the current slowed, the hilts of submerged swords occasionally broke the surface, creating an even more astonishing sight. The riverbed was made of enormous, smooth black stones, without even a grain of sand. Perhaps the water sometimes flowed too swiftly for any sand or gravel to settle.
I did not dare ask more questions. By the time I caught up with Yan Zhen, more than a hundred Immortals were already facing each other above the vast river.
One of these two groups was naturally made up of disciples from the Fallen Sword Immortal Sect. The other wore various outfits, but they were all from the Nine Great Sects. I had seen several of those styles before, and some were even more ornate. These people in their assorted robes had gathered together as one faction. Several of them looked like sect masters, and their cultivation levels were so unfathomably deep that I could no longer distinguish them.
Moreover, they all wore calm, unruffled expressions as they faced one another. I had no idea what they intended to do, which left me even more bewildered.
Yan Zhen stopped and slipped into the group of disciples dressed like her.
The disciples wore various expressions.