"What... what happened?"
"Did the sky fall?!"
On the long street, the commoners panicked and scattered like birds and beasts, fleeing in every direction.
Yet against the current, figure after figure surged forward.
The gates of the Demon Suppression General Bureau stood wide open.
Several hundred Demon Suppression Guards clad in black robes patterned with red marched toward the Imperial City under the lead of several people.
Lu Qinghou's long blade was already drawn.
You Wujiang carried a longsword on his back, while Gu Wanlan pressed her red lips tightly together.
Zhao Zhongliu clutched his chest and staggered along, yet shoved aside Lieutenant General Cui, who wanted to support him. Forcing himself to draw a breath, he cursed as he struggled to keep up at the front of the group. "This old man isn't dead yet! No need to hold me up!"
It was not just the Demon Suppression Bureau.
Across Chang'an's one hundred and eight wards,
the great Aristocratic Clans, sects, and gangs, along with the Mountain-Viewing Realm Martial Venerables who normally kept themselves aloof, all emerged from their deep courtyards without prior arrangement.
Anywhere else would have been one thing.
But this was Chang'an!
When the nest was overturned, how could any egg remain whole?
If Chang'an fell, how could the Aristocratic Clans endure?
In but a few moments,
beyond the Imperial City, atop rooftops, beneath the city walls,
there was a dense sea of heads everywhere.
Tens of thousands of martial artists, their blood and qi soaring into the heavens.
Inside the Imperial City.
The Li High Ancestor suddenly opened his eyes. With one step, he appeared atop the palace wall, lifted his head to the sky, and wore a grave expression.
"It has come in the end."
The moment his words fell,
a figure slowly emerged