Xiangyang emerged from the snowstorm, his robe fluttering behind him, revealing the half of his body that was bandaged, creating a rather sinister appearance. When he saw the young man who had just issued orders to several dozen Dao Guest Disciples, a wicked smile appeared on the half of the mouth that was visible.
"As the senior disciple of the Beiming Swordsman, Qian Ji, it's only right for you to command three hundred disciples. But not all those disciples will obey you, so I'll help you get rid of the disobedient ones," Xiangyang said to Qian Ji, the young man, with a smile.
Qian Ji, holding a large saber engraved with a dragon pattern, planted his saber into the snowy ground and leaned on its hilt with both hands, looking quite imposing. He glanced at Xiangyang and said with a smile, "Brother Xiangyang, there's no need to trouble yourself with this. Those who don't listen to me, I'll deal with myself. Wouldn't that establish more authority?"