The Golden Core cultivators of the Council Hall were not as far away as Lu Ruochang had imagined. All these signs showed that the sword cultivators had truly collapsed; it was not the trap some Golden Core cultivators had feared. Thus, every Golden Core cultivator in the Council Hall was brimming with vigor, urging their disciples onward as they pursued the sword cultivators heel to heel, intent on settling matters with them inside the grand formation of the Sword Mound!
Moreover, after hearing of Qian Mo's self-destruction, the surviving Golden Core cultivators of the Council Hall could not help but feel a shared sorrow. Qian Mo, Yuan Zhongyu, and Ji Hong had not lacked the chance to flee that day, yet Qian Mo had chosen this road himself—a road leading to certain death. How could they not sigh over it?
Which cultivator who had reached the Golden Core stage was not heaven-blessed? Which did not harbor aspirations in their heart? Yet now they stood in peril, treading on thin ice, liable to die at any moment should they make the slightest misstep. Never mind aspirations or ideals—they would all scatter like clouds and smoke. Thus, Qian Mo's words before his death struck deep chords within them. Their former incomprehension, mockery, and ridicule toward him all melted away, and a faint yet unmistakable reverence arose in their hearts!
Yes, how could anyone truly distinguish whether a person was good or bad? How could it be decided by a word or a sentence? What Xiao Hua considered bad was not necessarily bad; what Dexun deemed good was not necessarily good; what Snowy Realm True Person called bad was not necessarily bad; even the good worshipped by all living beings might not be good! Perhaps people had never truly been divided into good