The Four Seasons Bell Rings

The autumn wind swept across the earth, stirring the grasses and trees.

There had once been several villages around Borrowed Mountain, all tiny hamlets. Now, not a single person remained.

The autumn air was crisp, and the sky stretched clear for miles.

Only Borrowed Mountain was shrouded in dense white clouds.

"Rumble..."

The wind sweeping over the land suddenly grew fierce. The grain stalks, which had merely swayed gently before, were violently bent low; the trees bowed at the waist, their branches shuddering with a rustle as leaves were torn away by the wind.

The drums of war sounded overhead once more.

The Daoist sitting cross-legged atop the mountain rose to his feet as well.

Figures still thronged within the white clouds above, nearly all renowned divine officials and heavenly generals, chiefly Star Officials of the Dipper Division and Orthodox Gods of the Fire Division. If one were to count them carefully, perhaps quite a few had left their names in history; the rest surely had some reputation in this world as well. Set loose in the lower realm among demons and ghosts, they would be enough to send countless demons and ghosts fleeing in terror.

Standing upon the cloud's edge was naturally the Heavenly Bell Ancient God.

Some heavenly general, unknown which, was beating the drum, making the heavens quake. Merely hearing it was enough to leave one deafened, while the hot blood within surged and boiled.

"Whoosh..."

The killing aura struck head-on as though it had substance, making even the pines shed their needles.

The Daoist raised his head and met their gazes.

Yet what he thought was—

Years ago in the north, several demon kings had thrown the mortal world into turmoil. Apart from the one beneath the mountain, the others had all been wiped out by