“How long is your mistress intending to make us wait?" an old man said, his expression grim as he looked at the young woman serving him another cupful of tea.

Despite the veiled threat and the pressure emitted from the old man, the young woman remained calm—at least on the surface—as she waited, head slightly lowered. Yet her small hands slightly clutched at her uniform where her blade should have been. She chose not to say anything even as she was probed, for it was not her place to say.

"Have you lost all semblance of patience in your old age?" a middle-aged woman replied. An aroma of wisteria wafted from her body, spreading into the large hall, even overpowering the tea in her hand. She offered the man a playful smile, only for the old man to scoff and turn his head away.

“Elders, please. Remember where you are. I'm sure the Moonlight Palace's Sect Mistress has many things to deal with following the battle," a sickly man added. He wore long, deep green robes, which couldn't help but contrast with his white complexion and the dark bags under his eyes. The man was tall yet extremely skinny, making him resemble a corpse. His cheekbones protruded from his face, making him look incredibly ill.

The hall became silent as they all waited for the leading actress to arrive—some more nervously than others. Only a single man seemed unconcerned. He was much younger than the other threes, yet a majestic aura exuded from his body. While the Moonlight Sword Palace's disciples in the hall weren't able to determine his realm, they couldn't help but think he wasn't inferior to the elders before them.

Suddenly, the doors to the hall opened, revealing a gorgeous woman in a white dress, followed by the arid desert winds causing her dress to flutter, making her look like a goddess descending from the heavens. Still, what captivated these elders of various renowned sects wasn't her elegance but the sharpness of her being, almost as if a sword stood before them.

The middle-aged woman lost all her playfulness as she gazed upon her, feeling slightly taken aback by her presence. Still, she felt no animosity in her aura, nor malice. It only felt natural, as if it was only meant to be. She seemed like a naked sword, ready to slice through anything if provoked. The woman could only gulp silently as she looked down into her tea, unable to sustain Zou Lan's gaze.

“My apologies for making you wait," Zou Lan said as she entered the hall, her feet stepping into the air as she floated centimetres above the ground before taking her seat on a large throne of wood at the other end of the hall, her sword resting at her side. She didn't deign to offer the four a look until a disciple brought her her cup of tea before respectfully standing behind her.

Silence reigned within the hall as three of the guests held their breaths; only the young man looked unconcerned, which couldn't help but intrigue Zou Lan. She only offered the man a glance yet soon retracted her sight, opting to savour the flavour of the hot beverage in her hand.

As time passed, the old man squirmed in his seat, constantly glancing toward the young man, only to be ignored. Even the other two offered him looks, yet the man made no distinct motions. He remained perfectly still, eyes closed, almost as if meditating. Unable to bear it further, the old man opened his mouth, hoping to break the silence, only to be interrupted before he could do so.

“While I'm sure your respective sects have their reasons for demanding this audience, know that I've been busy dealing with the aftermath," Zou Lan spoke, yet didn't raise her gaze from her cup. "Please make it quick, as I have many things requiring my attention."

The sickly man couldn't help but show a helpless smile, and the woman did the same, yet hid it behind her lavish fan. Still, the old man blatantly showed his discontent, barely stopping himself from rising, but then noticed the young man had yet to open his eyes, keeping utterly calm as if none of this had anything to do with him.

Of course, Zou Lan noticed all of this as nothing could escape her eyes within these halls. If she wanted to—and she did—she could even hide her intentions from these individuals quite easily, as none had reached her realm. While they would probably reach the Soul Formation in a few decades, they were far from being her match. After all, they were only branch elders stationed at the Frontier. Only a few within the Western Wastelands were her match.

“My lady,” the sickly man began, only to be crushed by Zou Lan’s sword domain.

He felt as if countless sword edges had made their way to his heart, threatening to rend it apart at any moment. He could only hold his breath as sweat poured down his neck, drenching his clothes. If not for his high cultivation realm, he would have lost consciousness the moment he was struck. Fortunately, the pressure was only fleeting and disappeared as quickly as it arrived. He raised his gaze, barely able to breathe, only to be shocked once again.

Zou Lan's gaze fell onto him. Despite still being devoid of malice, her eyes were stern and cold, showing no emotions. The man couldn't help but feel a shiver down his back. Seeing her act this way felt eerie, as she was known for her fiery temper. She rarely showed such coldness, even to her enemies. Something had changed since he last saw her.

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“You will address me as Sect Leader, as you should,” she said, her voice sharp, cutting to the heart of the matter as the side of her head rested on her closed fist. None dared to question her and could only bury their resentment deep in their hearts, as they knew the consequences awaiting them. She was deadly serious!

“My apologies," the man said, bowing his head slightly. "Sect Leader Zou, we come to you today concerning a most disturbing rumour currently spreading within the Frontier."

“Oh? And what, pray tell, does the populace concern themselves with in the midst of this tragedy?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow, showing an interested smile as her long hair flowed down one side of her head like a waterfall.

The man gulped, absorbed by her youthful charm, only to be brought back to reality by the middle-aged female elder giving him a scornful look. He could only cough into his hand to hide his embarrassment before offering a wry smile. Still, Zou Lan's expression didn't shift a millimetre.

"As I am sure you're aware, the people are concerned with the formation's current state," the man replied. "It is clear as day that the barrier has been affected by the battle. Although it seems as if it has since then returned to normal, some people have... doubts.

“Doubts?” she asked, slightly amused.

“Let’s not beat around the bushes,” the old man interjected. “The people are concerned with the fact that you forbid access to the tunnels below the city. They believe that something may have happened to the City’s Guardian.”

“Interesting..." she said as she leaned back, only for the three elders to watch all her movements carefully while a slight tension hung in the air. Still, Zou Lan uttered a slight chuckle, which couldn't help but take them aback. Even the white-haired old man couldn't hold himself back anymore.

“Is this funny to you?" he said as he rose from his seat, his eyes barely concealing his contempt for Zou Lan. "Unrest still lurks within the city, and most of our men are either dead or wounded. The outsiders are still at our doorstep, threatening to invade at a moment's notice, and you think this is amusing? Have you lost your mind?"

Zou Lan’s gaze lowered, filling the hall with an extreme coldness. Ever since these men and women had started cultivating, they had lost all dread for the frost of deep winter yet were suddenly reminded of its chill. This wasn't merely external cold, but one from deep within, as if emerging from their very hearts as if their cores had frozen over.

Obviously, this wasn’t some sort of spell she had put them under, but merely a trace of her intent blooming within their cores, threatening to freeze them to the marrow of their bones. This was simply their brains overreacting to what she represented and a possible outcome among many.

“I do have to wonder how the people first learned of such a rumour," she finally said after letting the silence linger. "As far as I know, only the sect leaders of the four local sects and a select few of the Immortal Beast Alliance should even have been aware of his existence. Unless..."

She let her unfinished words hang in the air as her gaze wandered from right to left, observing the various individuals within the halls. Their reactions were as expected. They did their best to hide their anxiousness, yet nothing could escape her senses—none except for one.

The young man remained silent, unperturbed by her words, almost as if he didn't put her in his eyes. Was this arrogance or confidence? Somehow, Qin Yun's image flashed in her mind even though the two were nothing alike physically.

The man had short golden hair and wore an exquisite blue robe lined with gold. The unmistakable aura of an artifact exuded from his clothes, almost making him look like a deity sent to the realm from above. Her eyes couldn't help but narrow the closer she looked. After all, even if her own dress was also an artifact passed down from ancient times, it paled in comparison with his.

She couldn't help but feel a slight trace of apprehension as she looked at him. While he hid his aura well, she could feel his strength was formidable for his age—at least at the apex of the Golden Core realm. Still, this was far from enough to be allowed to speak within these halls. Even the three elders were barely worthy.

“That’s preposterous! Our sect leaders would never dare to expose such a thing!” the old man exploded, yet didn’t even try to hide the ridicule in his tone. While she could plainly see how afraid of her he was, there was some weight behind his words, almost as if he had a trump card to fall back on.

“Then who do you think is responsible for this?” she asked, eagerly awaiting their answers.

“The real question is, how did the outsiders know about the altar buried beneath the city? Even more so, how did they reach it?" the middle-aged woman asked, hiding her smile behind a floral-patterned fan. "Do not think you can hide this from us even if you locked down all access."

“How, indeed..." Zou Lan replied, scanning her guests once again, yet she failed to pinpoint their motives.

They were sorely mistaken if they thought they could make her responsible for the attack on the Dragon Vein. Still, she wondered how they came to know what had happened within the underground chamber. She first thought of Qin Yun, then thought against it. While his motives were veiled in shadow, this didn't align with his actions.

There was one most probable possibility, but also the worst if it was true. She could scarcely believe it, yet couldn't dismiss it. As she was deep in thought, facing the three elders in this battle of words, probing each other, the young man finally opened his eyes and chose to speak for the first time.

“Enough!" His voice was powerful, easily reaching the Nascent Soul realm and even surpassing the early stages.

This couldn't help but make Zou Lan frown as he was barely in his late thirties. Not even she was so far along the path at that age. Surely, this man couldn't be unknown within the Western Regions. She tried to probe her memories, seeking any mentions of him yet none came to mind.

“I tire of this discussion. Get to the point." the man ordered, his voice deep and calm.

“As you wish, my lord!" the three elders said in unison, bowing their heads. This couldn't help but give Zou Lan pause. She felt apprehension growing in her heart, almost as if she had lost control of the situation.

“Who might you be?" she asked, yet her earlier imposing nature had turned to caution.

The man ignored her, closing his eyes again as he began to ignore the situation. She couldn't help but grit her teeth when she noticed the three's smug attitudes as they answered her query.

“This is Lord Lao, Vice-Patriarch of the Soaring Dragon sect, but also a Core Disciple of the Immortal Beast Alliance!”