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The man standing amidst the mist and moonlight was calm, composed, and unreadable. Yet the aura that radiated from him was terrifying. It was too still, too quiet, like the calm just before an avalanche. The more gently he spoke, the more he seemed to consider their strategy, the more frightening he became.
Mister Mu narrowed his eyes at Li Yuan, then glanced around quickly, taking in the terrain. His voice was low and tight.
“Xiao Brothers. Your turn.”
Meanwhile, Tuoba Yin had retreated in a rush, returning to Mister Mu’s side.
“I never even touched the bottom of his strength,” he muttered, shaken.
Mister Mu’s expression darkened. His thoughts raced, seeking some way to break the deadlock.
What was meant to be a flawless night assault was already falling apart.
In the distance, the four towers of Tang Sect had opened. More disciples were pouring out, and high above them drifted a woman in a milky white robe, descending like a falling feather. Her presence was regal, her aura overwhelming.
Her eyes were cold as frost until they fell on the man with the loose hair. Then, and only then, did a hint of softness appe...
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