Another year passed.
North of the Jia Ma Empire's Imperial Capital.
An immense, majestic mountain sprawled like a great dragon, faintly radiating energy that soared toward the heavens.
Clouds and mist wreathed the mountain all year round. Beneath them lay the Misty Cloud Sect, a towering power within the Jia Ma Empire.
Within the Misty Cloud Sect stood a vast square, paved entirely with uniform slabs of stone, giving it an ancient, imposing air. A massive stone monument stood at its center, inscribed with the names of the sect's successive leaders and those who had rendered it great service.
Nearly a thousand people sat cross-legged in the square, arranged in a semicircle. Without exception, they wore moon-white robes, their cuffs embroidered with cloud-colored swords. These were undoubtedly disciples of the Misty Cloud Sect.
At the head of the square rose tiers of lofty stone seats. Dozens of white-robed elders sat cross-legged upon them, resting with their eyes closed. They looked unremarkable on the surface, but the powerful Dou Qi faintly emanating around them showed that they were anything but ordinary.
Several figures also stood atop the towering trees beside the square. They were all renowned experts within the Jia Ma Empire.
Despite holding nearly a thousand people, the enormous square was silent as the grave. Apart from the howling wind, not a single sound could be heard.
Every gaze was fixed on the two people facing each other in the enormous battle arena at the center of the square-or, more precisely, on the young man in black robes among them. Their expressions varied, but most carried a trace of mockery and scorn.
Yet the black-robed young man remained composed, his gaze betraying neither joy nor sorrow. Those strange looks did not move him in the slightest. He merely spoke