Dawn was breaking, but the White River Sect's Sect Hall remained shrouded in thin mist. All was quiet. At the foot of the mountain, the outer disciples nervously readied the horses and carts, waiting for their sect master and core disciples to take the gifts to the Northern Immortal Sect.
A deathly pale young man came out and barked, "Disperse! The sect master said the Sect Hall will escort that great demon straight to the Immortal Sect as an offering. As for these mundane gifts... the sect master is in a good mood, so you can divide them up here! Consider it a favor from the sect..."
The outer disciples exchanged looks, then glanced at the spirit medicines, gold, silver, and collected antiques, paintings, and calligraphy loaded onto the large carts behind them...
An older disciple of high seniority but poor aptitude respectfully cupped his hands and asked, "Divide them up? But these gifts took so long to prepare... we..."
"If you're told to divide them, divide them! You can take charge! What do these things amount to compared to the great demon our sect master prepared? Enough nonsense. While the sect master is happy, you get to bask in a little of his reflected glory!"
At those words, the shabbily dressed outer disciples and servants of the White River Sect all stared at the three cartloads of gifts with shining eyes and watering mouths. The old outer disciple bowed respectfully toward the mist-wreathed inner Sect Hall. "This disciple thanks the sect master for his favor..."
The young man snorted coldly, turned haughtily, and climbed the mountain, disappearing into the mist.
Inside the shattered gates, two gaunt great demons at the threshold of the eighth realm viciously stamped the White River Sect master's head to pieces. Their eyes bloodshot, they