That clear, ringing voice carried across the mountain.
"It's Sect Master Mu!" The Eight Extremes Gate disciples saw an old man in a long robe bounding up the stone steps from the foot of the mountain. In mere moments, he reached the summit.
The Demonic Sect disciples who tried to stop him were blasted away before they could even get close, spraying blood.
"Brother Mu!"
Yu Ruoyun cried out in delight.
"Sect Master Yu, I'm here!" Mu Xuanzhou nodded, covering more than a hundred feet in a few strides and plunging into the fray.
He raised a hand, and scorching Yang Qi true essence erupted, forming a crimson palm print that pressed toward Pockmarked Huang.
"Old Mu, you've finally crawled out of your turtle shell?"
Pockmarked Huang sneered. His fist tore through the air, blood baleful true essence as thick as blood plasma condensing into a blood-pillar fist print that met the attack head-on.
The Nine Yang Gate had already fallen into decline, and its sect master, Mu Xuanzhou, was famously hands-off, spending his days studying Daoist arts and ignoring worldly affairs.
He was considered the oldest yet most incompetent sect master in the Five Sects Alliance.
The Nine Yang Gate also had few members, with Mu Xuanzhou its only Astral Force expert. Thus, throughout his repeated operations, Pockmarked Huang had never bothered making arrangements against them. Once his grand undertaking succeeded, he could wipe them out with a wave of his hand.
Yet... boom! The blood baleful true essence, solid as a pillar of blood, melted away section by section like ice and snow meeting hot water.
Bang! Pockmarked Huang staggered back several steps, unable to hide the horror on his face. He could feel the formidable power of his opponent's true essence. This man's strength was extraordinary.
"How