Snow Mountain Secret Art, Mahakala

The formations parted, solemn and imposing.

The Fubao Official unrolled a yellow cloth and laid out the Imperial Jade Seal.

The sunlight was just right. White clouds edged in gold drifted past, casting faint shadows. Da Shun's banners stood thick as a dense forest—one pole every ten paces, one rank every five—pointing like swords at the heavens. Figures occasionally passed beneath them, making the banner corners gently flutter.

The envoys of every nation buzzed with debate, their gazes jumping from Liang Qu of Da Shun in the east to Ha Lu Han of the Northern Court in the west, then snapping back again. They argued until red in the face over who would lose, who would win, who was strong, and who was weak.

Amid the clamor.

An old man, gaunt as iron, emerged from the hall and took his place at one corner of the cloth. A flicker of gray light seemed to pass over its gauze surface.

Mr. Mo? Liang Qu recognized the old man. When he had traveled from Pingyang to the Imperial Capital by altar, it had been Old Mr. Mo who watched over the Gold Leaf Boat.

He pointed lightly.

"Commander Meng, what does this mean?"

"What?" Meng Qiang followed his gaze. "Oh, Mr. Mo. Mr. Mo possesses a divine ability called Turning Ground into Steel. Wherever his feet stand, so long as the man remains unbroken, the ground remains unbroken. But the ground must be a single whole, so a layer of water-soaked gauze has to be spread over the bricks and stones."

"That sounds a little dangerous."

Once martial cultivation reached the Hunting Tiger Realm, ordinary brick and earth had long since become a buffer zone. Without deformation to absorb the impact, every bit of damage would land solidly on a person.

"What,