Hou Du returned to his own great hall. As sect leader, he had a hall all to himself, an immensely spacious place with nothing in it. As the True Persons put it, whatever style of furnishings he wanted, he could arrange himself.
This was not his personal privilege, but one enjoyed by every sect leader. In fact, he had not told them that in the Xiaoshan Sword Lineage, the so-called sect leader was merely a puppet with no potential. Well, he would keep that to himself for now and tell them when he was ready to throw down his burden and quit.
The art of speaking lay in timing.
He sat cross-legged deep within the hall. Its hundred-zhang depth would exert tremendous pressure on anyone who entered, while also placing them within the optimal attack range of his flying swords.
Through the thick walls of ice, he could faintly see the white clouds outside. This place stood at Dushan's summit. Sitting here, a sense that he alone reigned supreme arose of its own accord. He had to admit that True Person Wu knew a thing or two, not only about architecture, but about the human heart as well.
Of course, this might also have been why he could not bring forth a flying sword. The two True Persons, Luo and Jiang, had already taken advantage of their cultivation realms to obtain their own flying swords from the Jian Family Small World and were now quietly practicing. Among all the Quanzhen Sect's Nascent Soul True Persons, this oddball alone still had the foundations of a Magic Cultivator. Even with tens of thousands of swords to choose from in the Jian Family Small World, he had still come away empty-handed.
Perhaps things would improve if the swords were shaped like bricklayers' trowels?