"Senior, are you from Mount Shu?" Chen Changqing asked.
The middle-aged man did not answer directly. Carrying his wine jug, he leaped down from the top of the gourd.
There was no order whatsoever to his movements. Like a drunkard jumping down from a low wall, he landed crookedly in midair. Yet the instant his feet touched the void, all the spiritual energy of heaven and earth within tens of thousands of miles surged toward him like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.
Such absolute control over the laws of heaven and earth made Chen Changqing's heart tighten.
The middle-aged man swayed over to the front of the Mount Shu Warship and first lowered his head to glance at the heavily wounded Chen Yuan.
"Brat, you're already the Sect Master and you're still this reckless. Going head-on against a Fourth Tribulation Immortal—did a donkey kick you in the head?"
Chen Yuan's mouth twitched, yet he surprisingly did not talk back.
He respectfully performed a deep bow toward the middle-aged man, his voice steady and solemn.
"Chen Yuan, thirty-seventh-generation Sect Master of Mount Shu, pays respects to Senior Wine Sword."
Wine Sword.
When those two words reached the cultivators present, most wore blank expressions.
Yet the few old monsters who had cultivated for several thousand years stiffened where they stood as though struck by lightning upon hearing that title.
On the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion's floating war chariot, an elderly Grand Elder of divination with white hair and beard abruptly rose to his feet. The divination compass in his hand fell with a smack and shattered into pieces, yet he did not notice at all.
"Wine Sword Immortal... the Wine Sword Immortal, one of the Nine Elders of Mount Shu?!"
"Impossible! That figure was a legend from the ancient era, at