"Hahaha, Ziya, the Investiture of the Gods Plan takes precedence over everything. If the disciples of my sect cannot tell obedience from defiance and obstruct the plan, kill them as you see fit. Send them onto the Investiture of the Gods, and let someone else discipline them in the future!"
Cult Master Tongtian laughed, seemingly magnanimous.
So far, some members of Jiejiao had died, but they were all fourth-generation disciples or third-generation outer disciples. He did not particularly care about them.
Of course, he was certainly displeased deep down.
"Thank you, Martial Uncle, for your generosity and for understanding your disciple's difficulties."
Xiao Tian immediately heaped excited flattery upon him. As the saying went, a thousand things might wear through, but flattery never did.
"Mm. You may go."
Cult Master Tongtian closed his eyes, unwilling to say anything more.
"This disciple takes his leave."
Xiao Tian did not linger to make a nuisance of himself. He left without hesitation.
Riding the clouds and mist, Xiao Tian departed Biyou Palace, which stood in the thirty-fifth heaven.
It was the ancestral seat of Jiejiao, famed as the place where "all gods paid homage and ten thousand immortals came to court."
The original plot described it thus:
"Mists and rosy clouds gathered into auspicious haze; the sun and moon poured forth radiant light.
Verdant ancient cypresses mingled with mountain mist, like autumn waters sharing one hue with the boundless sky; crimson wildflowers reflected the morning glow, like jade-green peaches and scarlet apricots blooming together.
Swirling colors were all the radiance of the Dao and virtue, sending purple mist aloft; drifting incense breathed pure fragrance from the primordial, limitless void. Immortal peaches and fruits, each resembled a golden core; green poplars and willows, every branch seemed a strand of jade.
Yellow cranes were often