Western Firmament Heaven, Net Lodge.
On a desolate, uninhabited star, a crude yet sturdy ritual altar was being built.
Massive stone blocks, polished smooth by arcane power, floated in from afar and were stacked together one by one.
Once the final stone block had been set firmly in place, a disciple returned and bowed to Xu Chengtong. "Teacher, it has been arranged."
While the disciples had been building the altar, Xu Chengtong had watched over the entire process. Even so, he stepped forward to inspect it once more.
With the stones' own weight combined with the reinforcement of arcane power, it would remain standing for a century or more unless struck by a meteor from beyond the heavens. Still, he was not entirely satisfied. Yet completing the task Zhang Yu had assigned was the most urgent matter now; everything else could be set aside for the moment.
He took a sword case from his star pouch, removed the silk wrapping, and opened the lid. Inside lay a gleaming jade sword—it was the Cicada Cry Sword Zhang Yu had once carried at his side.
He walked onto the altar and, with utmost solemnity, placed the sword upon the stone offering table at the top of the ritual platform. Then he bowed to it reverently several times.
Straightening up, he barked, "You all come up and bow as well!"
The disciples exchanged glances, then reluctantly stepped forward and bowed several times to the Cicada Cry Sword.
Yet they could not help grumbling inwardly. It's just a sword. Why is Teacher taking this so seriously? No one is even watching.
After they had finished bowing, one disciple said, "Teacher, what do we do now? Are we heading back?"
Xu Chengtong said, "Wait. The patrol envoy has not ordered us to withdraw, so we