The wind-bells on Near-Star Building were ringing softly.
Yet, the wind-bells on another building were all ruptured.
The Great Formation of the mountain gate at the Hanging-Bell Sect had been activated;
the atmosphere here was both depressing and restless. The waves formed on the
surface of Morning Lake, signaling that something foreboding would happen soon.
A dozen elders of the Hanging-Bell Sect stood in the building, the expressions on their
faces looking awful, though not all of them shared the same sentiment.
More than ten representatives of various sects had also come here. They had a heavy
heart, but it was hard to detect such an emotion on their faces.
The corpse of De Yuanquan was lying on the floor, which remained the same as when
he died, since nobody had touched him.
The blood seeped out from the back of his head, forming a pool of blood the size of a
few square feet.