The sky was faintly bright, and the vast expanse above was cloudless.
By the bank of the Wujang River.
Screech!
A sharp cry of an eagle pierced the air.
An old eagle, distinguished by a small tuft of white feathers on its head, plummeted from the sky, soaring over high walls and towers before perching atop a towering tree by the bank of the Wujang River.
As it preened its feathers, it surveyed the scene below with a keen gaze.
By now, the riverbank near Wujang was teeming with people, all of them craning their necks toward the river expectantly, some even from the town's peacekeeping forces.
The mad monk was among the crowd as well.
Today was the day Dao Baibi of the Dragon and Tiger Ranking would duel the wandering sword immortal from the Zhi Killing Sword Hut.
Many onlookers, lured by the promise of such an event, had arrived early in anticipation.
Yi Chen was no exception.
