Wu Tong and Liu Yun followed the heroes of the four allied sects. By dusk, they reached the foot of Yinshan Mountain and made camp there. Before long, the Tianshan Sect and the Kunlun Sect also arrived. As night fell, bonfires were lit across the encampment, and the leaders of all six sects gathered to discuss the morrow's "Demon-Slaying Assembly."
Chairs had already been set in place. One by one, the six sect leaders took their seats: He Jun of the Kunlun Sect, Deng Tian of the Tianshan Sect, Huang Jian of the Nanshan Sect, Hong Hao of the Qinghai Sect, Huang Qi of the Minshan Sect, and Jiang Sheng of the Sun-Moon Sect.
Huang Jian rose and said:
"Masters He and Deng, allow me to present to you Wu Tong, Master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, and his wife, Lady Liu Yun."
Wu Tong and Liu Yun bowed. He Jun and Deng Tian were both startled, then exclaimed with delight:
"What fortune, to meet the honored couple of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness!"
Wu Tong replied with humility:
"Elders, for the sake of justice in the martial world, the six sects have united to strike down the demons. This junior is filled with admiration and offers what little strength I have to share in the cause."
He Jun of Kunlun smiled:
"Former Hall Master Han Zhen truly had an eye for heroes."
Deng Tian of Tianshan added:
"Without being a hero of this age, how could one inherit the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness?"
After some words of courtesy, Huang Jian gestured.
"Please, let us all be seated."
It is said: a single thread cannot be woven into cloth, a lone tree cannot form a forest. He Jun and Deng Tian, venerable elders both in their sixties, were respected leaders of the orthodox path. The campaign against Yinshan Sect had been initiated by these two elder statesmen. For Yinshan's Patriarch was fierce beyond measure, a master among masters of the demonic path, gathering fiends from all directions. If not checked now, while his power was not yet absolute, the martial world of the Western Regions would one day fall into ruin.
He Jun, crane-haired and child-faced, eyes still bright as burning lamps, frame like an ancient cypress, stood and said in a sonorous voice:
"I thank you all for honoring this gathering. Since we heroes are now assembled, let us speak freely—what are your thoughts for tomorrow's campaign?"
Hong Hao of Qinghai, a man in his forties, spoke first:
"The Yinshan Patriarch is fearsome and his skill among the finest of the demonic world. He has gathered many vile sects under his banner. Were it not for Master Wu and Lady Liu's aid today, our losses would have been grave indeed!"
Jiang Sheng of the Sun-Moon Sect, slightly younger, nodded:
"Master Hong speaks rightly. We must proceed with utmost caution."
Deng Tian of Tianshan, vigorous despite his sixty years, said:
"Tomorrow's clash will be fierce. I believe if we can divide their ranks, we may spare needless bloodshed."
Huang Jian asked:
"But how shall we exploit discord among their ranks?"
Jiang Sheng said:
"Tomorrow, the demonic host will be gathered as one. We must strike directly at the Patriarch. Once the great tree falls, the monkeys will scatter. The fiends may flee, but they will no longer be a threat."
All nodded. Strike the rider before the horse, strike the leader before the men. Yet how to proceed remained the question.
At last, He Jun turned to Wu Tong:
"Master Wu, your experience in the rivers and lakes is rich. What counsel have you?"
Wu Tong considered, then bowed slightly.
"The wisdom of the elders humbles me. The art of war teaches: seize the thief by taking the chief. Break the stronghold, seize the leader, and the body collapses. I propose that tomorrow we surround but do not rush to attack. First, by the custom of the jianghu, we call them to battle. Let us directly challenge the Yinshan Patriarch. If he sends his lieutenants instead, we defeat them one by one. The lesser rabble need not trouble us."
Deng Tian nodded in approval:
"A fine stratagem! In this way, we avoid needless slaughter. Tonight, let all rest well. Tomorrow, we call them forth—first to slay the Patriarch. Those whose crimes are not unpardonable may be spared."
The leaders agreed. Yet in every heart was the same thought: tomorrow, righteous and demonic will clash in deadly battle. Each returned to his camp to rest, to preserve strength for the coming storm.
That night, the six sects posted sentries to guard against ambush. Disciples kept blades close, patrolling in strict rotation. Even the rustling of night wind through the trees stirred unease. Yet the night passed in eerie calm.
At dawn, pale light spread across the camp. After a hasty meal, the allied sects struck camp and marched toward Yinshan. They advanced warily, expecting ambush at every turn, but the road was strangely clear. No hindrance arose, and this only deepened their sense of foreboding.
By mid-morning, the six sects reached the stronghold of Yinshan. Before the great square, a mass of figures already awaited. At the center stood a great black banner with crimson sigils, snapping in the wind: the flag of Yinshan Sect. Their forces had come in full, lined in grim array, murderous aura heavy upon the air.
This battle had already spread far and wide through the martial world, drawing countless wanderers to witness. Even the Judges of Life and Death, arbiters of the jianghu, had come to preside. They were led by Prefect Cui, with Li Yan, wielder of the Judge's Brush, and Sun Tian, wielder of the Judge's Blade. Clad in black robes, their faces stern, eyes sharp as fire, they stood watching in silence.
The Judges of Life and Death belonged to no side—neither favoring the righteous nor indulging the wicked. Their creed was simple: duels must be fair, and life and death be decided by one's own skill, never by cruelty or treachery. They loathed slaughter for its own sake; any who violated the rules of combat would face their swift judgment.
Their authority came from unmatched martial skill, and for years they had presided over battles of right and wrong without a single challenge to their fairness. Their presence today struck awe into every heart. Both righteous and demonic alike knew: this would be no skirmish, but a true battle of life and death. There would be no retreat. Only blood would decide the outcome.