At Ding Mountain of the Spirit Sect, inside the alchemy grounds hollowed out from the mountain's belly, heat billowed in waves.
Sect Master Yan Zhutian appeared on the cave wall within the mountain, standing on a protruding terrace and looking down at the blazing fires suppressed beneath alchemy furnaces large and small.
He watched furnaces being opened, watched ingredients being compounded and sealed inside, watched Spirit Sect disciples bustling up and down, watched people from Misty Pavilion coming and going among them to supervise and record everything.
Yan Zhutian stood high upon the terrace with his hands behind his back, expressionless. The fires from the various furnaces flickered in his eyes, just like his mood.
This time, he did not know what path he would lead the Spirit Sect down.
Perhaps it was a road of no return. Or perhaps he could lead the Spirit Sect out from beneath this suffocating supervision and restraint. Even if only for his own sake, no matter what, it was worth taking the risk.
No matter the final outcome, one thing he could be certain of was that the Spirit Sect would not perish. At the very least, the sect's disciples would not be exterminated to the last.
The reason was simple. So long as cultivators still existed in the world, they would need the Spirit Sect's miraculous pills and spiritual medicines, regardless of who ruled the world.
If he failed, the one most likely to be consigned to eternal damnation would be him alone.
In the secluded grounds behind Skywalking Sect, Wen Hua strolled through the openwork corridor carved into the cliffside outside the cave residence.
The scenery before him was plainly familiar, yet it now seemed as though he were seeing it for the first time. His gaze was full of