"Ye Changqing, can you get up?"
"Barely."
Ye Changqing braced himself against a table leg and stood, swaying twice before finding his balance.
"What do you need?"
"Keep an eye on the Vow Power Network for me. Make sure that phantom is completely gone and hasn't left any tricks behind."
Ye Changqing nodded and formed another Hand Seal. Faint but steady Buddha light shone as he connected to the divine statues throughout the city.
A few breaths later, Ye Changqing sighed in relief.
"It's completely gone. The lingering Space Law is dissipating rapidly. No anchors, no hidden tricks."
Zhou Xuan nodded.
"Then open the doors."
Lin Qingzhu froze for a moment. "But you're in this state..."
"Exactly this state."
Zhou Xuan rolled up his blood-soaked left sleeve, exposing the wound that was still seeping blood.
"Let them see."
Lin Qingzhu opened her mouth, then understood what Zhou Xuan meant.
Wounded, but alive.
He had endured the arrival of an existence on that level and could still walk out on his own feet.
That alone was a deterrent.
Lin Qingzhu turned toward the hall entrance and pushed open the wooden doors.
Wind and snow rushed in, pelting her face with shards of ice.
The square outside the hall was packed with people.
Yang Wudi stood at the front, his hands covered in blood, his nails buried deep in the wounds in his palms.
The old man's face was livid. Only when the hall doors opened did his taut body relax a little.
Behind him, Yang Mie stood with more than a dozen Yang Clan Elites, sabers in hand. Black blood from the demonic beasts they had just purged still clung to the blades.
Farther back stood the elders of the fallen sects.
Han Qingyuan of the Extreme Defense Sect stood on