Peaceful Mountain.
Autumn winds and cold rain; metal qi surged into the heavens.
Silvery-gray radiance gathered in the sky, forming squares and diamonds before finally becoming crisscrossing crosses. They stirred boundless defiant, chaotic energies, setting every iron object on the mountain trembling.
Qingjing stepped forward and stood amid these manifestations of Dui Metal. His gaze swept the surrounding Great Void, where he could make out familiar figures: some pure and perfected, some gloomy as night, some shifting between clear and turbid, and some savage and brutal.
True Person Wuyi sat quietly at the mountain gate with his grandson Lü Guan, holding his sword level. He extinguished the intentions of everyone itching to act, preserving the mountain's last shred of dignity.
The remaining True Person, Chan Wei, had entered the Great Void to preside over the Grand Formation. There was some pity in his eyes.
These were all the Divine Ability cultivators Peaceful Mountain had left.
Without Lü Zhao, without this Victory Gold Great Sword Immortal maintaining a semblance of order, Qingjing could already imagine what would become of his mountain gate. How could True Person Chan Wei, Zou Huanyue, alone protect their legacy?
Never mind anyone else-the Song Clan would have no qualms about dismantling Peaceful Mountain and delivering its pieces straight to the national treasury.
Qingjing's gaze darkened slightly as he looked toward a distant gleam of Li Fire, from which blood seemed faintly to drip. True Person Yingxin, Song Yuanli, must have arrived already and was watching his every move.
"Why aren't you hurrying?"
She transmitted her voice from afar, making no attempt to keep the other cultivators from hearing. She clearly intended to humiliate Qingjing.
Qingjing merely smiled, showing no anger.
Peaceful Mountain was called a sect, but in truth it was nothing more than the Qing