A Sect May Fall Easily, but Heartknots Are Hard to Untie

Upper Thousand Provinces, Xuanling Realm.

Northern Nether Domain, Flowing Rosy Clouds Sect.

The Flowing Rosy Clouds Sect stood on the western border of the Northern Nether Domain, its mountain gate facing a snow range that never melted year-round. It was one of the foremost great sects in this region.

But today, that dignity was about to become impossible to preserve.

On the sect's Martial Arts Arena, formation light surged skyward from all four sides of a massive combat platform.

A young man stood atop the platform, neither armored nor armed, dressed in fitted clothes with empty hands.

Yet his blood energy churned ceaselessly around him, steaming like clouds and scorching people even from afar.

Beneath the platform, people lay scattered in every direction. Each was still breathing, yet not a single one could get back up.

The emblems on their robes all belonged to the core disciples of the Flowing Rosy Clouds Sect.

One after another, they had gone up, and one after another, they had been knocked down.

The faces of the Flowing Rosy Clouds Sect members watching below grew uglier by the moment.

At first, some had clamored about showing this outsider what they were made of. But as they shouted on, their voices gradually weakened.

Those who had taken turns going up were the most outstanding among the sect's younger generation.

Yet they had not even managed to force him to use one hand.

If this still did not work, they could only ask the personal disciples of the various peaks to step in.

When Ji Wuchen arrived, this was the sight he saw.

The figure on the platform was naturally Chu Wujiu.

But why was he the only one here? Where were the others?

With a thought, he swept his gaze across the entire scene and