Six hours was neither a long time nor a short one.
But for the powerful cultivators leading the Eight Sects' parties on Lion Peak Mountain, those six hours felt longer than three years.
Their hearts were in their throats, afraid their disciples would not make it back in time and they would have no way to answer to their sects.
Naturally, that did not include those who had died in the secret realm.
At most, they would record their names and give their families some compensation after returning, merely as a token gesture.
Feng Xian'er stood at the highest point of the mountain, her purple robes snapping in the night wind.
She held the Light-and-Shadow Mirror issued by the Immortal Alliance. Light and shadow flowed across its surface, revealing one tiny point of light after another.
Each point represented a Danyang Sect disciple.
Some were already close to the exit, some were still moving deep within the secret realm, and some had remained motionless for a long time.
Feng Xian'er knew better than anyone what those motionless points meant. Whatever the reason, they would definitely not be coming back.
Her gaze swept across the mirror, searching for that familiar point of light.
Shisan, you dark-skinned boy, hurry up and come out...
She repeated it silently, her fingers gently stroking the mirror's surface.
In all these years, she had never worried about anyone, much less been kept on tenterhooks like this over a single person.
Her gaze followed the shifting lights on the mirror until she finally spotted that point in the northwest.
It was moving slowly but steadily toward the exit. Though it was not fast, at least it was still moving.
Most of the weight finally lifted from Feng Xian'er's heart. That dark-skinned boy had not died in the