The Great Canyon's rogue cultivators followed a bewildering mix of traditions, so varied that Hou Niao could not accurately identify many of them. But finding a Sword Cultivator among them was truly unexpected.
He could not help following, observing the swordsman's techniques from a distance.
By now, both sides had suffered casualties. Tempers flared, and their methods grew increasingly ruthless. The Baishen Sect's Body Cultivation practitioners had gained the upper hand. Amid piercing whistles and repeated tiger roars, they began pursuing their entangled opponents. One side wanted to flee, the other to hold them back, and the fighting abruptly intensified.
The rogue cultivators were more united than he had imagined, particularly during their retreat. As with armies, the greatest casualties came when everyone was too hard-pressed to look after anyone else and fled without choosing their route. Yet the rogue cultivators' organization had distinct layers. They retreated without disorder, lost ground without fleeing, and helped one another. Soon, the entire group approached the upper reaches of the Great Canyon. One more leap would take them into the open sky, where they could scatter in all directions and become impossible to pursue.
Under these circumstances, those covering the rogue cultivators' retreat were their strongest fighters, including that skilled swordsman.
Cao Dean swept past him, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Has the observer had a good look? Every man of our Wu Division fought bravely, each striving to take the lead. Did you see anyone clinging to life and fearing death?
"Since you stood aside at the start, kindly keep standing aside. Don't sully the hands of a distinguished Shanmen Sword Cultivator."
He had reason to resent it. Thus far, this supposed supervising observer had contributed nothing whatsoever to the fighting. Displeased, what he meant was: with victory now in sight, don't