Soul-Severing Slope, on the northern border of Heavenly South.
The terrain here was treacherous, the astral wind sharp as knives, and pale yellow immortal-eroding astral qi permeated the air. In days past, this had been a gray zone where Heavenly South cultivators occasionally clashed with Mulan scouts. Today, however, it had become the battlefield that would decide the fate of both nations.
On the slope, the Heavenly South coalition stood in formation. The banners of the Star Palace, the Nine Nations Alliance, and the Heavenly Dao Alliance snapped in the astral wind. The killing aura of a hundred thousand cultivators soared into the heavens, colliding fiercely in midair with the presence to the north, steeped in the rank smell of the grasslands and the chill of witch power. The collision produced a teeth-grating hiss.
Before the coalition's ranks, Han Li stood with his hands behind his back atop a temporary command platform forged from ten-thousand-year profound ice and star iron. He had concealed the dark gold demonic markings manifested by the Brahma Saint True Demonic Art, regaining his usual composure, deep as a still pool and immovable as a mountain. Yet deep within his pupils, a wisp of gray-gold demonic flame still occasionally flashed and vanished.
To his left, Wei Wuya, the Alliance Leader of the Nine Nations Alliance, remained as unruffled as an ancient well, but his unfathomable eyes were fixed on the breathtaking figure on the northern horizon. To his right, Venerable Zhiyang, the Taizhen Sect's Grand Elder, had his beard and hair bristling, heat steaming from his entire body. He had clearly driven the Taizhen Sect's body-tempering art to its limits, ready to spring into action at any moment.
"She's here."
Han Li spoke calmly, a wisp of Chaos Sword Qi flickering at his fingertips.
Before his