Li Chen casually picked up a feathered headdress and put it on. Holding the Totem Staff, he followed a Rain-Prayer Ritual depicted on the scroll, imitating the strange rhythm that communicated with the spiritual essence of heaven and earth as he softly chanted a string of obscure syllables.
In an instant, dark clouds gathered across the previously clear sky at a speed visible to the naked eye. A biting wind howled, heavy moisture filled the air, and tiny ice crystals even began to drift down!
A pressure emanating from ancient spirits of nature enveloped the surroundings.
Beside him, Feng Shuo gaped, his jaw practically dropping to the ground. Only after a long while did he recover and fall to his knees with a thud, flattery pouring forth like a tidal wave. "Master! You truly are a god descended to earth! Peerless in letters and arms, destined to unite the martial world! No, unite all under heaven! You only needed one look at these Luo barbarians' sinister witchcraft to wield it better than their ancestors! My admiration for you is like a mighty river, flowing without end."
Li Chen waited until he finished his flattery before saying, "Not bad wording. Get up."
The next day, it was Li Chen's turn to lead a patrol beyond the pass.
Mounted on a warhorse, he led a squad of cavalry on a routine patrol through the area dozens of li outside Cold Iron Pass, still toying with some of the shamans' implements.
As they reached a secluded valley in a snowy forest, Li Chen's keen spiritual senses suddenly stirred, and he raised a hand to signal the troops to halt.
"Something's happening." He tilted his head to listen. Violent fluctuations of spiritual energy, the clash of weapons, cries of battle, and shrill beast roars