Amid the thunderous roar, a figure clad in the robes of a Qin Clan disciple flew toward the depths of the clan. Occasional flashes of lightning froze his silhouette in midair, and quite a few people saw him.
However, no one found such a sight surprising. They merely glanced at him before turning away, at most finding him somewhat unfamiliar. But the Qin Clan had many members, so unfamiliar faces were perfectly normal, and no one paid it any mind.
Qin Lang traveled all the way without encountering any obstacles. After flying over several mountain ranges, he concealed himself and entered a stealthy state. Following the map Qin Sheng had given him earlier, he quietly approached a towering mountain peak.
Qin Lang's expression was calm, but his heart pounded wildly.
He had waited for this moment for a very long time—so long that even he had thought himself numb. Yet when the flames of vengeance began burning unrestrained within his heart, he realized that the obsession and knot in his heart had never disappeared. He had merely suppressed them. Once this power was released, its terror was a hundred times more frenzied than before.
"Father, Mother, your unfilial son will finally avenge you today!" Qin Lang murmured softly.
He stopped, hovering before a towering mountain peak. At the summit of a distant ridge stood several interconnected luxurious palaces, brightly lit at this moment. Light condensed from spiritual power illuminated the area around them in a dazzling array of colors.
Although the array prevented him from hearing the sounds within, Qin Lang knew that inside, there must be singing, dancing, and extravagant revelry.
That was Qin Cheng's nature: arrogant, overbearing, and given to indulgence in wine and women.
In truth, Qin Lang knew that the conflict between his father and Qin