Today, the weather was fine and bright. High, piercing eagle cries rang out across the sky beyond Five Aggregates Sect as five Azure Cliff Condors tore through the Skyvault.
The disciples who had gone to South Dipper Mountain half a year ago had finally returned. The inner sect disciples carried anticipation in their hearts, while the sect elders were filled with earnest expectation.
The Azure Cliff Condors landed before the Sect Master Hall. Fewer than a hundred people had survived this year, making the losses devastating, but the harvest of spirit medicine had been quite abundant.
The sect master and elders offered them words of encouragement as well. The remaining disciples left in silence, many bearing bloodstains, cold glints occasionally flashing in their eyes.
They followed the elders down the mountain without a word. This year's struggle had been far too brutal. A few disciples from the Ten Great Immortal Sects had even brought out high-grade Yellow-rank magic artifacts—none could stand against them.
Below Sect Master Peak, a man stood in the distance with a black ox, watching the mountain path as though waiting for someone.
One disciple after another began flying away on swords after descending the mountain, heading in every direction, yet it seemed they still had not seen the person they awaited.
Black Bull kept snorting heavily. Fewer and fewer disciples were coming down the mountain. Why had he still not appeared?
Chen Xun clenched his fists, his gaze fixed rigidly in that direction. The corner of his eye repeatedly swept over those disciples, but he never saw that person—not even someone similar.
"Moo moo?" Black Bull looked at Chen Xun, its expression extremely tense. The disciples coming down the mountain had become sparse. There were almost none left.
"Old Bull, I didn't dare give Senior Brother