Shaurya stood tall upon the colossal Dark Pearl, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, a faint smile playing on his lips. Around him, the members of his sect stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the destruction below. The once-proud sect grounds of the Cloud Spring Sect now lay in ruin—many of its buildings had collapsed into heaps of rubble. Smoke and dust swirled in the air, carried by the cold breeze, veiling the battlefield in a suffocating haze of despair.
Down below, Wang Tian and Luo Chen stood side by side, faint smiles carved across their bloodstained faces. Before them, five elders of the Cloud Spring Sect stood with grim, heavy expressions, their bodies taut with tension. Behind them huddled the remaining seven hundred disciples, trembling in terror. Some clutched at bleeding wounds, while others could barely remain on their feet.
