Seventy-Three Frames

"Much missed, you two, these past few days." He spread his hands in invitation. "The city lord has prepared a feast. We've only been waiting for you to take your seats."

This feast, three months overdue, had been laid on the moment they left the Divine-Demon Battlefield. No matter how she looked at it, nothing good awaited them there. Qiao Ranran lowered her eyes and said nothing, but Pei Ling smiled arrogantly. "Lead the way."

Those words sounded all too familiar. The black-robed cultivator's face twisted, the murderous intent in his eyes utterly undisguised—Demonic Cultivators had that much going for them: when they couldn't stomach something, they didn't pretend otherwise. But he still had to endure it. As an Order Enforcer, he had to bring Pei Ling and Qiao Ranran back to the City Lord's Manor on the city lord's orders. Otherwise, he would never have tolerated Pei Ling's insolence.

He had dealt with far too many young people who didn't know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth. Pei Ling would be next. Once they had seen the city lord and Pei Ling was no longer useful, he would ask for Pei Ling's body and turn him into the freshest of Puppets. And that pretty young girl would make a fine specimen too.

Pei Ling followed the black-robed Demonic Cultivator. Though he couldn't see the man's expression, the malice rolling off him was plain enough. If Pei Ling failed to get past the city lord, the man would make his move.

But Pei Ling had never intended to confront the city lord head-on. He had only one reason for returning to the City Lord's Manor: the moment he stepped into its Main Hall, he triggered the Formation he had set up long ago.

The Formation