Before Golden Turtle Island, the gazes of many Outer Sect disciples finally changed.
It was not that they had suddenly stopped fearing death.
They had finally understood why they could not retreat.
One step back, and they would become a lone name.
Stand their ground, and they were the Ten Thousand Immortals.
The gray hook above Lu Qing's head was still trembling.
Zhao Xuan's hand remained firmly on his shoulder.
Daoist Duobao stood behind him.
Holy Mother Jinling's sword intent held firm before him.
Zhao Gongming's Sea-Calming Pearls shone over the ground beneath his feet.
The Three Xiao Sisters' jade light guarded both sides.
But what truly held the gray hook at bay were the rows upon rows of fellow disciples beside Lu Qing.
At last.
Snap.
The gray hook broke.
It broke cleanly.
Like a thread stretched to its limit, snapped by the sheer weight of the Ten Thousand Immortals standing together.
The words [Eligible for inclusion in the tribulation] shattered with it.
There were no cheers before Golden Turtle Island.
Everyone simply stood there.
But that stand carried more weight than any cheer.
On Kunlun Mountain.
The twelve tribulation lamps swayed at once.
The flames that had brightened as the Interception Sect bore the pressure all dimmed by an inch.
The Antarctic Immortal looked toward Golden Turtle Island, his fingers slowly tightening around his Fly-Whisk.
White Crane Boy still knelt on the cold stone at the Mountain Gate. His broken-wing manifestation had completely dispersed, and he did not dare lift his head.
The Jade Emptiness disciples also fell silent.
They had seen it.
The Interception Sect's Ten Thousand Immortals had not been scattered by fear.
The tribulation lamps had truly dimmed, too.
That carried more weight than anything else Zhao Xuan could say.
Behind the Twelve Tribulation Lamps,