The gigantic sword still stood in the heavens like a divine pillar hammered into reality itself, its blade shimmering with a cold, world-splitting brilliance. The golden motes drifting around it seemed almost alive, circling reverently as if paying homage to a god that had revealed itself for a single fleeting moment.
For the first time since the chaos began, silence blanketed the lake.
A heavy, profound silence.
No one dared to breathe too loudly.
Wang Chen inhaled deeply, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. His disciples steadied themselves, trying to process everything they had just witnessed. Even Zhao Yunfei, usually timid and uncertain, seemed momentarily lost in the ethereal glow reflecting off the sword's edge.
But the peace didn't extend to everyone.
