Both sides had their misgivings. Though they exchanged no further words, they tacitly rushed out of the room together.
For a time, only the middle-aged steward remained in the hall, his nerves frayed by the succession of sudden upheavals.
Yet the middle-aged steward felt much calmer now. With the threat gone, he was quite safe.
After some thought, he decided that if anything truly went wrong, Taoyun Residence would likely no longer be a place to stay. He had to make preparations early, so he hurried out as well to find the servants...
Those who gave chase were all highly skilled in martial arts. Even the two Maidservants beside the Pudu Cult Heavenly Maiden possessed no small degree of skill, nimble as swallows, swaying like willows in the wind, their graceful figures light and ethereal as immortals.
The group followed the trail of Meng Zhao and Gebhu Dharma King's exchanges, their paths as clearly divided as the Jing and Wei Rivers. They saw swathes of fresh earth plowed open by fierce force, deep soil turned over, flowers and grass scattered everywhere. Clumps of scorching Fire Force lingered behind, like blazing furnaces, turning the originally cool, damp air stifling and dry, making one's heart pound with unease.
From these traces alone, one could glimpse the intensity of Meng Zhao and Gebhu Dharma King's clash, yet it was impossible to tell who held the greater advantage.
At the far edge of their vision, they could vaguely see golden Buddhist radiance and purple divine dawn interweaving atop the stone cliff to the right of the valley. Violent gusts scattered the white clouds overhead, dyeing half the sky gold and purple. The spectacle was overwhelming...
The moment Meng Zhao left the reception hall, he used Hundred Transformations of the Divine Dragon, transforming into a