The evening sky blushed with golden hues, stretching wide over a forested expanse. From afar, the woods appeared like an endless sea of green, its leaves swaying gently in the wind, producing a soothing rustle. The scent of damp earth mingled faintly with the fragrance of grass, as if inviting every visitor to linger a while longer.
At the heart of this green ocean, a towering mountain rose. It stood firm like a king presiding over the surrounding forest, its peak shrouded in a thin veil of mist that slowly twisted with the wind. The scene gave the impression that the entire forest bowed in reverence beneath its feet.
Upon closer inspection, the slopes were dotted with structures. Low houses and several soaring pavilions were arranged neatly along the mountain's contours. Thin wisps of smoke drifted from a few hearths, hinting at a peaceful life atop the peak. People in green robes moved along the stone paths, absorbed in their affairs, like inhabitants of a small village.
At the main gate of the area stood a large wooden plaque. Its frame was adorned with intricate carvings, and at the center glowed an inscription with an ancient aura: Qingshan Holy Land.
The air was tranquil, and even time seemed to slow its passage here. Yet, this serenity was not to last.
Suddenly, a wave of energy swept across the area. The ground trembled lightly, and the once-cool air became heavy. Disciples walking about froze, turning toward the source of the pressure.
"Huh? What's happening?" one disciple exclaimed, eyes wide.
"This aura… it's coming from the main pavilion!" another replied, voice trembling.
"Only the Lord of the Holy Land can emit such power!" whispered a young elder, his face pale.
All eyes turned toward the largest building in the settlement.
Inside the pavilion, silence reigned. Several elders stood rigid, holding their breaths.
"What? Qing Li… is dead?" a deep voice shattered the quiet, sending a tremor through the air.
The man wore a green robe with a long yellow sash trailing behind him. Though he appeared around forty, his gaze radiated the authority of someone who had lived far longer. He was Qing Zhan, Lord of Qingshan Holy Land.
The news churned his blood. Spiritual energy exploded from his body, causing the floor to tremble and the air to hiss.
"Indeed, my lord…" stammered a subordinate, voice quivering, barely coherent.
"The Grand Elder himself reported… the jade talisman of the Young Lord has been destroyed."
Qing Zhan's expression hardened. His gaze went blank, as if the world itself had halted. Qing Li was his only son. Since breaking through to the Heavenly King stage, he had become the pride of Qingshan Holy Land, elevated to Young Lord. His future had stretched before him like an open sky.
Qing Zhan clenched his fists. Memories of his son flashed: Qing Li's laughter as a child, his determined gaze during training, the first proud glance when elevated to Young Sovereign. All of it now felt like blades stabbing his heart.
"Lord… calm yourself…" an elder's voice broke the silence.
But Qing Zhan's eyes blazed in fury.
"How can I calm myself when my son is dead?!" His voice erupted, shattering the table before him with the force of his strike.
The elder immediately ducked, fearful, and hurried to continue.
"All we can do now is find the killer… and avenge the Young Lord."
"The Fourth Elder speaks rightly!" another elder added. "Anger alone will achieve nothing."
Qing Zhan drew a deep breath, attempting to tame the storm within. Slowly, his oppressive aura softened, though his eyes still glimmered with vengeance.
"Give my orders. Find them quickly…"
"Wait."
A calm yet commanding voice echoed, silencing everyone in the room.
An elderly man in a green robe appeared within the pavilion. His white hair flowed freely, and the aura pressing from him made the air feel frozen. This was Grand Elder Qing Yuan, the strongest pillar of Qingshan Holy Land, rarely seen by the peoples.
"Greetings, Grand Elder!" all bowed respectfully.
Qing Yuan walked slowly to the center, voice steady. "I felt Qing Li's death through his jade talisman. The location… not far from the Tianjue Sect."
Whispers of shock filled the room.
"The Tianjue Sect?" one elder spoke, tone anxious. "Could… they be the ones who killed Qing Li?"
The room fell silent again. Everyone knew that the Tianjue Sect was a mid-tier power, while Qingshan Holy Land was weaker. Declaring hostility would invite disaster.
Qing Zhan furrowed his brow. "Grand Elder… could it be…"
"I am certain the Tianjue Sect is not responsible," Qing Yuan interrupted.
"People from the Hongchen Family were also part of the city's destruction. I received news from the Hongchen ancestors—the young master of their family is dead, just like Qing Li."
Several elders exchanged tense glances.
"What of Hei Zuzhi?" one elder whispered.
Silence fell like a heavy shroud. Even breaths seemed loud. The name carried darkness, pressing down on the room.
Qing Yuan closed his eyes briefly, then continued. "The member of Hei Zuzhi should be dead... But there's been no word from their side. Hei Zuzhi seems indifferent to the fate of its fallen members."
Qing Zhan stood rigid, his fists clenched and his chest tight with frustration. The unknown culprit only fueled his rage.
Noticing Qing Zhan's reaction, Qing Yuan continued, "No need to worry. I suspect the killer will participate in the opening of Tianling Mountain."
Qing Zhan's eyes reddened. "Indeed, with the residual aura from my son's jade talisman, the killer will be revealed."
"Good," Qing Yuan nodded, then vanished, leaving the room heavy with tension.
Qing Zhan turned to the elders.
"Prepare yourselves! We leave immediately!"
Some elders joined him, while others remained to guard Qingshan Holy Land. The tension slowly eased, but the embers of vengeance still burned.
---
A few days later, the anticipated day arrived—the Disciple Selection of the Tianjue Sect, followed by the opening of Mount Tianling.
The Tianjue Sect grounds were crowded. Magnificent ships from various powers floated in the sky, lining up like an army besieging an enemy. Some soared atop swords, others rode spiritual beasts, and a few hovered on strange artifacts.
They arrived with powers of all tiers: low, mid, even upper-tier. Most would not participate in the disciple selection; their goal lay at Mount Tianling.
Mount Tianling, a forbidden territory of the Tianjue Sect, held extraordinary spiritual energy. It was said to contain ancient legacies and secrets from the masters of old. The mountain had once belonged to a Heavenly Emperor of ancient times, long before the Tianjue Sect claimed it.
Though the Tianjue Sect could monopolize it, they preferred to invite other powers—both to establish relations and to use others as bait to explore the dangerous terrain.
At this moment, the main square of the Tianjue Sect was packed.
Among the crowd was Wu Chen. His straw hat shadowed his face, giving him the appearance of a lost farmer, yet his steps were firm. His gaze was sharp, exuding confidence.
In the sky, ships continued to arrive.
"Hey, look! That's Yu Hanxi, Princess of the Yusheng Dynasty!" someone shouted.
"Wow… just as the rumors said, she's breathtaking!" another exclaimed.
Yu Hanxi stood gracefully on the deck, her golden gown billowing and her skin as white as jade. Her expression was calm and gentle, in stark contrast to her elder brother, Yu Tianlei, who was reckless and stubborn. Yet Yu Tianlei was nowhere to be seen.
"There's Jian Yunhe from the Jianyuan Sect!"
On another ship, Jian Yunhe stood with a serious expression. Beside him, a girl in white stood quietly.
"That must be his junior sister, Jian Yuhan!"
"Wow! Another beautiful lady appears."
"I hear her talent surpasses even Jian Yunhe's!"
The crowd whispered in awe. They knew this would be a historic moment.
Suddenly, the sky shifted. Black clouds rolled swiftly, like spilled ink covering the blue heavens. The wind howled, and temperatures plummeted. The oppressive aura pressed down on everyone present.
Amid the chilling silence, a young voice rang out in the air.
"Hehehe… at a grand event like this, why not invite our Hei Zuzhi?"