The wind swept through the southwest of Pingxiang, every pine needle dancing in its wake.
How bleak this autumn wind was, the rustling sound of the surging pine waves seemed to weep and lament.
"Sssssshh!"
No sooner had She Wuluan's words fallen than all of the Hengshan Sect disciples had drawn their swords.
The onlooking martial artists of the Orthodox Path quickly gathered towards the Hengshan Sect, while the marginal forces of the Demon Cult joined those of the White Tiger Hall under the yellow and blue flags.
Several elders led people over, and there were also over two hundred people from the Demon Cult present.
There were more from the Orthodox Path, but many of them had wandering eyes and a weak will to fight.
Most were just there to join in on the excitement.
They would be fine in a skimming battle, but once a fight to the death started, they would be the quickest to flee.
