The True Martial Platform fell deathly silent.
As the dust slowly settled, nothing stirred in the devastated courtyard but the ragged breathing of the Grandmasters who had survived.
Some slumped on the ground. Others leaned against broken walls, barely managing to stand. Most stared blankly at the blade mark that had already vanished—the mark left by a single slash that had slain a Martial King.
Li Yun stood where he was, the Heaven-Slaying Treasure Blade back in its sheath.
His face was a little pale and his breathing slightly hurried, but his back remained straight as a blade planted between heaven and earth. No one saw his weakness, and no one dared approach him now.
Who would dare approach a man who could slay a Martial King with one stroke?
Several disciples helped Zhou Yunhe out of the rubble, blood still at the corner of his mouth. Ignoring his injuries, he struggled over to Li Yun and asked quietly, "Young Master Li, are you all right?"
Li Yun shook his head. "It took a bit out of me, but I'm fine."
Zhou Yunhe breathed a sigh of relief, then turned toward the Grandmasters filling the courtyard.
His gaze swept across their battered faces, and a hundred feelings tangled in his heart.
Moments ago, these people had been clamoring to seize Li Yun and make him answer for his crimes. Now that the truth was out, they realized someone had used them as a weapon.
Fear, shame, anger, confusion... all of it mingled beneath a dark cloud that hung over the True Martial Platform.
"Everyone." Li Qingyan's voice suddenly rang out.
He stood at the highest point in the courtyard, his white hair stirring in the night wind. The pressure of a Martial King slowly spread from him, silencing every whisper.