They looked toward the sky.
They saw only a blaze of fire in the east.
The flames blazed fiercely, and should have shone as brilliantly as the blazing sun hanging overhead.
Yet this fire carried an icy, blood-colored chill.
It was bone-piercingly cold.
On the other side, facing that eerie eastern blaze, hung a bank of golden clouds.
The golden clouds floated in the air.
They resembled vast swathes of divine bird feathers spread across half the sky.
Golden clouds, blazing fire.
They confronted one another from afar.
Within the extraordinary phenomena at the very center stood two figures.
The figures were not engaged in Dharma Combat.
Yet the Dao Rhyme and energy flow around them continuously pressed outward as though space itself were being crushed.
They relentlessly crashed toward each other.
At times, flames fell from above.
In the next instant, sheets of golden feathers could be seen rapidly plummeting from the sky as well.
Several mountains below shattered amid booming explosions.
Had the Sheng Family not been protected by a grand formation.
The aftershocks of the Dharma Combat between those two Cultivators would have swept through the entire Sheng Family.
"Damn it!"
The aura of the figure within the flames swelled ever higher.
Opposite her stood the cultivator called Ming Yunzi.
Dressed in a feather fan and silk headscarf, he held a feather fan before his chest, its spread casting golden light across ten thousand miles.
Waves of golden cloud-light drifted around him like feathers.
He looked at the fury opposite him, a dark glint passing through his eyes.
He sensed those gazes flickering in and out of sight all around them, as well as in the distance.
That dark glint deepened considerably.
The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind?
Don't even think about it.