In the outer gate city, Daoist Tianjian stood motionless on a giant sword of white light. The autumn wind made his robe, white hair, and beard flutter, making him look transcendent as if he could ascend to immortality at any moment.
The eaves of every building in the city were crowded with disciples, not only of the Supreme Sect but also cultivators from other sects and families, all eager to see who was the greatest sword master of the time!
Billowing dark clouds surged from the horizon, swiftly covering the entire city, increasing the tension. Everyone dared not speak loudly, only whispering to each other.
Wu Jue stood on an eave, facing the wind.
The wind grew stronger, forcing him to cultivate energy to keep his hair from blocking his vision.
"What a powerful presence, truly like that of an immortal."
"Why hasn't Sword Venerable Fudao appeared yet?"
"This battle can't be avoided, even the Prince of Tianwei has come to challenge us!"