The ox-cart buzzed, and time flew by. Many Martial Artists who were initially just watching the fun had swiftly left Changtian Peak. Those who hesitated were the disciples of the Heaven-splitting Faction.
Although they were filled with fear at Zheng Ming's words, they knew all too well that if they were to slink away in defeat, their standing within the Sect would suffer greatly.
"Go, do not lose face here any longer!" Murong Nan forced himself to stand upright and commanded in a deep voice.
Three breaths had passed, and Changtian Peak had become spotlessly clean. At that moment, Zheng Ming and his companion finally reached the mountainside of Changtian Peak.
This was an area about twenty-some zhang in radius, with three large trees, each over a hundred zhang tall with dense branches and leaves, and roots like writhing dragons. From a distance, they resembled three colossal umbrellas, shrouding the vast sky.
Sanhuangping!
