The lake churned, rolling up a thousand waves.
The small Yun Island seemed cut off from the outside world, the fierce aura within it roiling and surging. A small boat sliced through the waves. Standing at its bow was Chen Yang, one hand resting on his Longsword, the other clasped behind his back, rising and falling with the water.
On the pavilion, Xue Dalong stood tall like an iron tower, spear in hand, his gaze burning with a boundless will to fight.
The distance between the two was steadily closing.
For a moment, silence fell over the vast Chilian Peak. Among the tens of thousands of people gathered, no one dared to speak.
"Great-Grandfather…"
Leaving the pavilion and walking to the lakeshore, Xue Xinlan gripped the corners of her garment. Her long eyelashes were heavy with tears, and her lips trembled uncontrollably. She knew that today's farewell was forever. It was a matter of life and death. For the rest of her days, all that remained would be offerings and memories.
