Goddess Xia Yan's message entered Old Tree's body. The Sixth Chosen, Zhu Yu, dressed in red, called for the Li Clan Members.
There was a sun corona in the sky.
The Divine Sect's Sect Master watched quietly. Within the white mist, he was revealed to be a young man, looking much like a scholar. His square face had not lost its softness; his long hair fell over his shoulders, held by a jade hairpin, and even his plain gray robe was exceptionally clean.
He raised his hand, then gently lowered it. Even the sun corona behind him surged to life, then went dark.
He thought of many things. Goddess Xia Yan had bypassed him once again and sent word to Zhu Yu. Zhu Yu, dressed in red, had asked to see a man of the Li Clan. There were many possible explanations: it might be Goddess Xia Yan's scheme; perhaps she had struck a deal with that fate master of the Southern Border; or perhaps the outcome was even worse.
Yet after turning it over and over in his mind, he had already gone down one road until it was black. To keep agonizing over other matters would only be the self-inflicted misery of a mediocre man.
He had already reached the edge of the far west. Before him stood a southern wall—then he would smash through it.
The Divine Sect was entering the world. Everyone under heaven should make way for them.
At the edges of the Divine Sect's twenty Spirit Boats stood a thousand disciples, while Old Tree's branches and leaves swayed above them.
Here, within Old Tree's body on this battlefield in the far west, they were doing something they were profoundly unwilling to do.
At their center, cultivators used their magical power to build a