Serra had finally arrived in the Wintercleave Capital.

"What a bustling city."

Serra remarked.

This world was far larger than his own homeworld.

For the nation that conquered this world, it's only appropriate that they have a large capital.

Serra understood this quite well.

After all, given his own and his comrades residences, isn't it a given?

As those that stand at the pinnacle of cultivation, they decided that long ago that they must act as their status demands.

The world of cultivation is the past was extremely lawless and chaotic.

It was only when the four of them rose up to reach the pinnacle that they subdued all the powerful forces that waged war on the Higher Planes and brought peace.

There were still deaths, wars and conflicts in the world, but at a much smaller scale.

After all, with the Four Season's Sovereigns governing the land, it's finally peaceful and the weaker cultivators now have a chance to grow.

Serra remembered his bitter experiences in the past when he first arrived in the Higher Planes.

Weak cultivators like themselves were bullied around and killed or used as fodder by those above them.

Most cultivators arriving therefore had a 20% chance of survival.

Serra shook his head and began thinking on how he should meet his disciple.

"I could use Aura's methods again but it's not that efficient to use the same trick twice. For now... Perhaps I'll just do the more normal approach and ask around."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Indeed, furthermore, althought Serra had used that method, he never really intended to harm someone.

He merely used it for future reference.

It was quite effective though and saved him time.

With a thought, Serra appeared in within the crowd but none noticed him.

In the busy streets, none could see that this man suddenly appeared out of thin air.

"Now... I suppose anyone would do."

----------------------------------------

Within the alleyways, there were a group of people arguing and fighting.

"Daring to attack us, don't you know the price you'll pay!?"

A heroic woman shouted at several men wearing vulgar expressions.

"Hahaha, and so what? This might be the Capital, but this is our territory! Furthermore, we have the backing of someone quite high up here! Shout all you want, none will come to save you!"

Afterwards, they laughed.

The heroic woman had a vexed expression on her face and her companions had the greatly dismayed faces.

"Speak! Who ordered you to attack us!"

This heroic woman was quite intelligent.

She knew that the Capital wasn't a place for fights for the law was enforced here.

However, she also knew that there were exceptions such as when high-ranking nobles or aristocrats would have the Winter Claw Guard would not appear in a certain area while rogues would attack.

This was one such occasion.

"Haha, you'll know soon when I bring you to my boss. He was quite mighty generous too. He told us he only needed you alive and unhurt while we could do as we please with the rest! A lucky day for us indeed eh!"

The vulgar man who looked like the leader shouted.

"Hehehe, I've had enough with those petty wenches. Time for some fresh fruits!"

"I've long heard how beautiful the maidens of the Sky Blossom Sect are and how rare it is that men get to enjoy them. I'm looking forward to this taste!"

"Hahaha, I can't wait to enjoy them!"

The other men let out vulgar laughs.

"Hmph, don't take us lightly! We're not just a bunch of pretty flowers you can pick as you please!"

The heroic woman shouted in a valorous voice while she drew her spear and took a stance.

Her red hair swaing beautifully in the wind as she prepared for battle.

Her fellow disciples took out their various weapons and prepared to fight as well.

"So these little ladies think they can fight us? What a joke! Think you can take on me, Bado of the Green Ghost Tiger Gang? Alright boys, you know the drill! Anyone except that lass is fair game."

His men let out vulgar laughs as they also prepared for battle.

They were up against the cream of the crop of a second-rate sect.

Although their strenght and numbers was far superior, disciples of such sects usually have trump cards of their own.

As they were preparing to duke it out, a third party intervened and knocked all the men out.