This time, Yang Jian strode openly into Xiqi, and not a single move he made escaped the prying eyes of the Saints, immortals, and gods of the heavens.
The Western Two Saints gazed down from afar upon the Three Realms. At the sight, both of them were abruptly stunned, their hearts filled with astonishment.
The two of them had originally seen Xiqi suffer setback after setback in recent days, its decline fully exposed, and had long been plotting in secret to send Buddhist disciples down the mountain to reinforce it, borrowing Xiqi's Auspicious Qi to seize opportunities.
Who would have thought that Yang Jian would suddenly charge out halfway and openly take Xiqi's side?
Zhunti and Jieyin furrowed their brows, pondering it every which way, yet still unable to fathom the deeper schemes of the ancient mighty ones of the Mysterious Water Divine Continent.
But on second thought, Yang Jian had entered the game of his own accord and taken command in Xiqi, which instead solved Buddhism's urgent crisis.
This way, their disciples would not have to rashly descend the mountain, naturally avoiding the dangers of the battlefield and sparing themselves the fate of being placed on the Investiture of the Gods and bound by it.
At that thought, the Western Two Saints immediately turned from worry to joy, their gazes locking firmly onto Xiqi's direction, overjoyed in their hearts.
Yang Jian's arrival was like a giant axe that split heaven and earth, cleaving apart in an instant the gloom that had hung over Xiqi for days.
The great stone in Jiang Ziya's heart dropped to the ground. The next morning, he resolutely removed the placard refusing battle. His Daoist robe snapped loudly in the wind as he rode out of camp alongside Yang Jian, facing the Great Shang army