"I never would have imagined it?"
Ou Peng's heart stirred when he heard this, and he was about to speak when a burst of commotion rose from below Misty Peak.
Looking up, he saw Zhang Chengyue, his body covered in mottled bloodstains, holding a long sword as he staggered back to the mountaintop with disciples who were likewise drenched in blood.
Ou Peng swept his gaze over them and immediately saw that most of those who had returned were female disciples from Mingcui Hall. Shi Niu, Wen Wenhai, Lu Yueming, and the others were absent; even hall masters such as Shi Yukun were nowhere to be seen. His heart lurched.
Zhang Chengyue's pale, exhausted face had still borne confusion, but the moment he reached the summit and saw the three bald monks and the woman in palace robes, everything became clear to him. He walked to Ou Peng's side and said quietly, "Great Gang Leader, our disciples could not withstand the three sects' combined forces. Only a few hall masters remain below, fighting their opponents one on one. Shi Niu had every joint in his body crushed by an unknown monk from Great Forest Temple. Martial Brother Wen, Junior Brother Lu, and the others had their dantians pierced by the Incense-Passing Cult's Scent-Smearing Hand. Most of our elite disciples died for the sect, while the rest suffered grave injuries. As for the low-ranking disciples guarding the mountain, they... they too were mostly slain by them."
Ou Peng nodded. He had already expected these losses when he saw the leaders of the two sects. These people spoke beautifully enough, but once their sects' interests were involved, where could even half a shred of mercy remain in their hearts?
Ou Peng reached out and patted Zhang Chengyue's shoulder. "Chengyue, you have worked