The march toward their assigned campsite began smoothly enough.
The disciples, though tired from the journey and the trials of the beast tides, walked in tight formation behind the elders. The forest canopy thinned steadily, the dense shadows of the inner marsh forest giving way to open light.
The deeper they went, the more the air shifted from the damp heaviness of swamp mists to a subtle dryness that hinted at the presence of the wide plains they had seen from afar.
When they finally broke through the last stretch of trees, the sight that awaited them froze many in their steps. Before them, spread across the land, was a veritable gathering of sects.
Dozens of camps were already erected across the open fields, their banners rising proudly in the morning air, fluttering in sharp contrast against the still ancient aura of the tomb complex that loomed behind them.
Han Yu narrowed his eyes slightly, taking in the sheer size of the gathering.
