At this moment, an elder was sitting in the hall at the peak of the Nine Mystic Mountain.
Han Muye sat in the seat he had sat in back then, but today, the other nonviting delegate, Tang Chi, was absent.
In the center of the hall, hundreds of sect elites bowed and waited solemnly.
A moment later, Tuoba Cheng, who was wearing a purple robe, and Sect Master Jin Ze, who had silver hair, walked into the hall and stepped onto the high seats.
Jin Ze waved his hand. Tuoba Cheng nodded slightly and took a step forward.
"Two years of sharpening your skills. Is your sword sharp enough?"
His voice was cold, emitting the pressure of a great cultivator.
In the hall, a great pressure weighed down on everyone.
However, under such a powerful force, the hundreds of elite disciples did not even frown.
Sword lights appeared and resisted Tuoba Cheng's pressure.
Were such sword lights sharp enough?
