Xiao Yan's body swayed slightly beneath his black robe. Behind his mask, his face was twisted and dark.
"The Misty Cloud Sect..."
His fists clenched tightly inside his sleeves, his nails digging deep into his palms. Blood slowly seeped between his fingers, but his black robe concealed it from everyone.
The Battle at the Cloud Summit...
Building momentum...
Defeating him before everyone...
Every word was a dull knife, sawing repeatedly at Xiao Yan's heart.
The humiliation of the broken engagement three years ago, and three years of bitter training and endurance!
Enduring the searing agony of heavenly flames, cultivating like a madman through countless days and nights...
All for that future battle!
"Little Yanzi..."
Yao Chen's voice sounded in his mind, carrying a measure of gravity and concern:
"Steady your mind. Don't act rashly."
Xiao Yan drew a deep breath, and the fury churning in his chest slowly receded like the tide.
He lowered his gaze slightly, his lips curling into an icy smile beneath his black robe.
Yun Xiaotian...
Since you're so eager to seek death...
Then I'll sacrifice you first to christen my battle banner!
Meanwhile, Nalan Yanran, the central figure in all this, had remained silent throughout, her cool face betraying not a ripple of emotion.
She stood quietly to one side, her moon-white dress swaying gently in the breeze, as though everything Yun Xiaotian had said had nothing to do with her.
Her eyes, clear as autumn waters, gazed faintly toward the vast, distant horizon, as though she were pondering something.
Hai Bodong shook his head lightly, taking it all in, a glint of amusement flashing through his ice-blue eyes.
He stroked his long, snow-white beard and laughed heartily:
"All right, all right. I won't meddle in the affairs of you youngsters."
He turned to Nalan