The thick, acrid pall of smoke hanging over the jagged skyline of Ye Heavenly City had begun to thin, shredded by the bitter mid-morning mountain gusts.
Below the high cloud line, the broad stone avenues and towering residential compounds bore the raw, ugly scars of a city clawing its way back from the brink of total annihilation.
Broken wagon wheels, scorched pavestones, and the dark, rust-colored streaks of dried blood marked every major intersection, bearing silent witness to the savage rebellion that had torn through the clan's heart only hours prior.
High above the northern gates, a sudden ripple fractured the overcast firmament and Haoran appeared.
His silhouette cut through the drifting soot like a falling feather, his imperial black and gold robes, stitched with coiling five-clawed dragons along the hem, were entirely unsoiled by the brutal clash that had played out leagues away.
