There was a mountain northeast of the grasslands.
On these utterly flat plains, the mountain rose abruptly, an unmistakable landmark.
The Warrior Saint Gate stood on this sacred mountain, built along its slopes. Its halls and residences were hewn into the cliffs, and even its roads were carved directly into the mountainside.
Loa followed Tulilei down to the entrance. A gray-robed disciple approached and led Wuzhui toward the stables. Wuzhui went along, glancing back at Loa before leaving. Loa nodded.
The reception room was small, built of stone, with several low tables and thick felt rugs. Tulilei sat in the host's seat, while Loa took the guest's seat. Wangcai crouched beside Loa, ears pricked, eyes roaming around.
A disciple brought some food. Wangcai leaned over, sniffed it, then lay back down, uninterested.
Tulilei lifted his tea bowl, took a sip, and set it down, looking at Loa.
"My young friend Loa, how old are you?"
Loa picked up his tea bowl and blew on the steam. "Twenty."
Tulilei's hand stopped beside his bowl.
He looked at Loa, and Loa looked back. Something flickered in Tulilei's eyes-not suspicion, but disbelief.
"Twenty?" he repeated.
"Twenty."
Tulilei put down his bowl, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long breath.
"A twenty-year-old at the Saint-level limit." His voice held an indescribable note. "Which of us five didn't spend thousands of years in the Saint realm before touching the threshold of Deity and earning the title of a limit expert?"
He shook his head.
"This world has finally become something I can no longer understand."
Was it because I had taken too long? Or had breaking through to Saint become easier now?
Loa set down his bowl. "You flatter me, Mr. Tulilei. I only just broke through. I still have a great