Before the white building, beneath the Wutong tree, the atmosphere was heavy.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
The white-haired old man stared fixedly at the scene reflected on the chessboard, at the slowly rotating Black Altar. His eyes were filled with terror.
At that moment, his injuries were severe—very severe. His hardened body, forged over centuries of martial cultivation, was like porcelain struck by a heavy hammer, covered in countless fine cracks.
Clumps of blood squeezed out through them, streaming down his body and dripping onto the ground.
And yet, despite all that, the white-haired old man showed no concern for his injuries. Instead, he said gravely to Wang Shuzhi beside him:
"This matter must be reported to the sect master. Jian Twelve may have brought a great deal of trouble upon the Wuliang Sword Sect—an enormous amount of trouble..."
"I know!"
Wang Shuzhi stared at the Black Altar as well and nodded with a grave expression.
Jian Twelve had died beneath a Jie Realm weapon. Whoever wielded such a weapon, or whatever power stood behind them, was not someone the Wuliang Sword Sect wanted to provoke.
If it was one of those powers that had once produced Jie Realm martial artists but now possessed only Jie Realm weapons, that would be manageable. If the Wuliang Sword Sect brought out all its trump cards, it could still put up some resistance.
What they feared was that Jian Twelve had provoked a living Jie Realm martial artist.
Jie Realm martial artists were usually called Great Beings. Such beings had completely surpassed the limits of mortal imagination, possessing power strong enough to destroy the heavens and the earth.
If Jian Twelve had provoked a powerful martial artist wielding a Jie Realm weapon, and thus dragged the Wuliang Sword Sect into it, the consequences... Even