Evening settled over the maple forest, cold snow weighing down its branches.
Heaven and earth were clear and tranquil, with neither wind nor rain—a rare day of fine weather.
After only a few short days of recuperation, Xianyu advanced in force once more. Cultivators filled the sky and stood on branches among the mountains like scattered stars, closing in like a drawstring sack.
There were no roaring cries, no slogans. The cultivators merely tightened their grips on their mystic artifacts and filed out from beneath the Heavenly Pass.
Jiang Yang received the True Person's command and knew a great battle was imminent. With an inexplicable mix of emotions, he rose, left the great hall, and headed outside the city.
He made no attempt to conceal himself. Fellow disciples kept recognizing him along the way, but none spoke; they simply followed silently behind him.
Qi Refining and foundation establishment cultivators, members of other sects and minor clans, familiar faces and strangers—the crowd gathered like streams, growing ever larger as they converged, yet no one truly moved ahead of him.
No one competed or jostled for the position. As though in a single instant, Jiang Yang had naturally become the foremost of Rain Xiang Mountain's younger generation. Without objection, everyone simply joined the flow.
When he reached the city gate, the cultivators turned and saw that familiar figure in white.
Under countless gazes, their feet retreated and parted, involuntarily clearing a path.
Jiang Yang drew a deep breath, glanced around, and briefly cupped his hands before striding out.
As he moved, the cultivators surged into motion as well, as though the ringing clash of Sword Qi had sounded invisibly beside their ears.
Dressed in blue-green, Tai Pei'er concealed herself within the crowd like an inconspicuous speck. Her eyes discreetly watched the figure