Thirty-Five Percent

The gale roared and surged, the river's currents pulsed.

Snow on the mast shook loose in soft flurries, as though it was not Liang Qu breathing, but the whole expanse of heaven and earth!

He had sat at the altar for less than a quarter of an hour.

Unity of Heaven and Man!

Lan Jicai dared not delay. He turned and called for someone.

His colleague in blue robes and a square cap leaped onto the lookout post, uncovered the clay jar, and slapped its bottom three times.

Bang! Bang! Bang! A gray, hazy mist slowly rose out, as though someone draped in gauzy white silk was struggling to crawl from the jar's mouth. The instant it was exposed, smoke continuously scattered away and vanished into the void.

The blue-robed colleague immediately raised the bottom of the jar, hoping the little person would naturally fall out.

Yet things went against his wishes.

Just as the gray-mist little person extended its waist and was about to land in the Heavenly Altar, it seemed to sense danger. Regaining a sliver of awareness, it desperately bent over and dodged to the side.

More than half its body had emerged from the jar's mouth. Like a radish being pulled from the earth, it wriggled left and right, on the verge of breaking free.

Lan Jicai shouted, "Lord Mo!"

Before his words had faded.

It was as if an invisible giant hand had emerged from above, forcefully seized the little person, tore it to pieces in a few swift motions, and stuffed every last scrap into the altar.

At once.

The entire remnant of the Grandmaster was like something squeezed into a millstone, ground alive into powdery radiance and turned into nourishment for the Heavenly Altar.

A piercing explosion rang beside Yang Xu and the