The light on the ninth floor was not dark red.
Cracks in the sealing core ran from the ceiling all the way to the floor. Dark red light seeped from them, yet a silver-white metal lamp hung at each of the tower floor's four corners.
Their wicks were floating droplets of metal—no oil, no flame, illuminated purely by burning sword intent.
The four lamps lit the ninth floor like an operating room. Every corner was bright, with no shadows in which anything could hide.
Jin Feng sat at the very center. Not standing, not drawing his sword to meet him—sitting.
He sat cross-legged directly above the sealing core—a massive circular dark red crystal roughly three zhang in diameter, embedded in the meteoritic floor, its surface covered in mended cracks.
His entire body was like a paperweight, pressing down upon the very heart of the seal.
Lu Chen had not seen a portrait of Jin Feng in Medicine King Valley's archives, nor had Mu Tianqing's memories contained his appearance as an adult.
The man before him looked far younger than Mu Tianqing. Not a single white hair touched his temples, his skin was taut, and his back straight.
But his hair was the wrong color. Not black, not white, but silver—metallic silver.
It was not the fading of age, but the outward manifestation of true essence and dead qi having tangled within his body for thirty years, finally transforming completely into metal-element spiritual power.
He was like a sword forged to the utmost limit; even his hair had become part of his sword intent.
He opened his eyes.
His eyes were normal—pupils, whites, and deep brown irises. Completely unlike the other council members.
Every Shadow Council member who had cultivated dead qi had eyes that turned pure black. Shen Yuan was