Night fell.
Inside the commander's tent of the White Feathered Eagle tribe.
The flaps of the tent were shut tight.
In the darkness, Fang Yang was not asleep. Instead, he sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion.
The cultivation of a Low Tier Cultivator was not yet so transcendent as to replace the need for sleep.
Ordinarily, Fang Yang would have been long asleep by this time, resting up for the next day's tasks.
However, during his routine cultivation just now, he had felt the opportunity for a breakthrough.
'I'm just a hair's breadth away. With one more push, I can definitely charge into Tier One Peak.'
'Coincidentally, I've also accumulated four minor merits from the White Feathered Eagle tribe. Worst case, I'll just take a day off.'
A glint flashed through Fang Yang's eyes.
He had never forgotten the purpose of the White Feathered Eagle tribe's existence.
The tribe existed to support his cultivation; he couldn't get his priorities backward.
