Above the heavens, winds and clouds churned. Layer upon layer of brocade-like clouds slowly parted to either side, and the whole world fell silent. Countless gazes turned in unison toward the sky as everyone held their breath, awaiting the moment the Divine Weapon Ranking descended into the world.
Upon mountain peaks, on palace platforms, aboard cloud vessels...
People from major sects, Aristocratic Clans, and ordinary cultivators had gathered here, their eyes filled with tension and anticipation.
"Master, the Divine Weapon Ranking is about to be revealed. Do our holy land's treasures have a chance of making the list?"
A youth of around ten stood at the cliff's edge. His brows and eyes were sharp, his gaze locked firmly onto the roiling heavens, his voice unable to conceal his eager anticipation.
He turned his head toward the old man beside him.
The old man's back was slightly bent, his face deeply lined with wrinkles.
A long black robe draped around him, faint streams of light flowing across its fabric. It was embroidered with intricate, ancient bird and beast totems, faintly revealing the profound heritage of his sect.
He raised his eyes toward the ranking that was about to open, his gaze deep and unfathomable. For a long while, he said nothing.
A breeze swept mountain mist past them. After some time, the old man finally murmured in a low voice, his tone carrying a trace of grave foreboding.
"Hard to say. If we are fortunate enough to make the ranking this time, it will be both supreme glory and a source of calamity. The divine weapons on the list will certainly draw the covetous eyes and struggles of every power."
He paused, his aged voice gentle yet weighty as a falling hammer.
"I have always had an ominous feeling. After the