Dark clouds churned over the city, thunder crashed, and a sonorous dragon's roar rang out, shaking heaven and earth.
Torrential rain poured down as winds swept the clouds together, turning the land beyond the city into a vast marsh in the blink of an eye.
Yet halfway up a green mountain, inside a tranquil Daoist temple, a mass of clear light brimmed and held back the rain, untouched by the storm.
"Demon Immortals?"
At the sound of a voice tinged with uncertainty, a door already dusted with age opened deep within the temple. A gaze sharp as a sword seemed to pierce the clouds. "Seven of them? Little Sister Wu Zhi is going to have a hard time!"
A Female Daoist stepped out. Her skin was crystalline as jade, her features as lovely as a painting, and a cool, aloof air surrounded her.
"Daoist Guo is the least trustworthy of them all. Those Nine Bends Heavenly Immortals and Dragon Transformation Heavenly Immortals who received imperial investiture haven't shown so much as half a shadow, even now!"
The Female Daoist sensed several subtle thoughts watching the battle from the void and shook her head.
The Daoist sects had always prized their freedom, beyond the court's control. Even though Wu Zhi had used force and the fortune of the dynasty to cow some of them into submission, now, when the Dragon Aura was waning, they still wouldn't fight with all their might.
If they could at least stand by and watch without kicking someone while they were down, that already counted as having a conscience.
"But... they've come bullying right to my doorstep. How could I stand by?"
She beckoned. In the center of the hall beside her, the Crimson Magic Sword that had long been enshrined on the central altar suddenly