One month had passed since the sky over the Heavenly Furnace Mountains turned black.
Outside the towering, cloud-piercing gates of the Azure Sword Sect, the mortal realm was tearing itself apart. Without the Faceless Scholar to hold the Righteous Alliance's leash, ancient grudges had violently resurfaced. Rival sects were burning each other's mountain pavilions, rogue cultivators were pillaging merchant routes, and the surviving demonic factions were aggressively reclaiming their lost territories.
It was an era of absolute, bloody chaos.
Inside the master courtyard of the Azure Sword Sect, however, the greatest crisis of the day was a slightly cool breeze.
"Husband, put this on. The wind is shifting to the north. Your meridians might catch a chill."
