"Se-Sect Master, y-you're still alive?"
At the pavilion by the stele, a mountain guarding disciple watched Feng Yuan stride over, trembling with fear and standing rooted to the spot in shock.
The remaining eleven disciples immediately gripped their long staffs and, after exchanging glances, formed a line to block Feng Yuan's group outside the mountain gate.
Seeing this, Feng Yuan furiously barked, "Who gave you mongrels the nerve to block your Sect Master!?"
Though Feng Yuan was severely wounded and his strength restricted, the bearing of a Sect Master still frightened the disciples until they trembled in their boots.
The eleven disciples looked at one another uneasily, but not a single one retreated. They remained lined up in formation.
Just as Feng Yuan's fury surged to the heavens and he was about to act despite his injuries to teach them a lesson, the disciple who had spoken earlier suddenly ran before the others and urged, "Quick, put down your staffs! He isn't an enemy—he's the Sect Master! The Sect Master isn't dead yet!"
The leader among the eleven disciples said timidly, "But the New Sect Master ordered that no one was to be allowed up the mountain these past few days!"
At the words "New Sect Master," Feng Yuan's facial muscles twitched uncontrollably with rage.
The persuading disciple added, "We all came here to cultivate and learn. The foreign enemy isn't attacking right now—this is merely a dispute between the leaders of the mountain gate. There's no need to throw our lives away over it. Let them fight it out themselves."
Clearly, not only did this disciple favor Feng Yuan in his heart, he was also exceedingly tactful. In just a few words, he had already shaken the resolve of the eleven men.
Feng Yuan seized the opportunity to speak.