Just then...
Several figures clad in plain cultivator robes hurried through a bustling, prosperous district.
The dazzling array of spirit shops along the street, the endless stream of passing cultivators, and the rising and falling cries of vendors failed to make them pause for even a moment.
Their steps were steady and their expressions restrained as they turned directly into a deep, secluded alley hidden between the buildings.
The moment they stepped into the alley, the clamor of the outside world was instantly shut out.
Ancient trees towered on either side of the alley, their dense shade obscuring most of the daylight.
Mist lingered all around, and the Spirit Energy carried a faint chill.
The deeper they went, the fewer cultivators they encountered.
In the end, the entire alley fell utterly silent.
Only the soft sound of their footsteps landing on the bluestone pavement remained, and the atmosphere grew ever more tranquil and solemn.
The group continued onward in silence.
At last, in this deserted place, the several Golden Core cultivators traveling together slowly began to speak, breaking the silence.
The middle-aged cultivator at the front swept his steady gaze across the others. With a trace of melancholy and reflection in his voice, he was the first to ask:
"Junior Brothers, now that the war between the two races has completely ended and the flames of battle have been extinguished.
What are your plans for the future?
How do you intend to walk the road ahead?"
His words seemed to strike at the deepest helplessness in their hearts.
A Golden Core cultivator among them immediately gave a bitter smile, his brows filled with desolation and self-mockery.
His voice carried an exhaustion he could not conceal:
"We have long been branded by the Cultivator Association as cultivators from a rebel sect.