Ethan soared into the Eye of the Hurricane, his gaze locking onto the solitary mountain ahead.
Direction didn't matter—he took a single step into empty air and shot upward like an arrow, straight toward the summit.
The Windspirit Faction's gatekeepers could only stare in exasperation.
Their mountain gate might as well not exist.
But what shocked them more was the sheer number of powerhouses striding through the skies today. In all their years guarding the faction, they'd rarely glimpsed their War God-ranked elders, who spent lifetimes secluded in meditation atop the peaks. Even when not in retreat, those legends never descended to the lower slopes, let alone mingled with lowly disciples like them.
Ethan reached the summit platform in the blink of an eye. The shimmering water barrier around him dissolved just as his feet touched stone.
"We greet the City Lord—"
Regis, flanked by Julian, Quinn, and Hank, rose from their seats and bowed deeply.
