Inside the grand palace, the marble pillars shuddered, dust cascading from the vaulted rafters like heavy gray snow.
Chen Feng's eyes blazed with incandescent light as the blood within his newly forged Saint physique roared like an ancient, untamed dragon breaking through its primordial shackles.
He looked at the trembling faces of his brothers-in-arms, at the pale expressions of the Four Sacred Masters, and felt the volcanic heat of his own unyielding pride surge straight into his throat.
He had spent eight agonizing years crawling his way out of the dimensional abyss; he had not ascended to the supreme realm of Sainthood merely to hide beneath the roof of an unfamiliar sect while a foreign devil cast a shadow over his world.
"Let's go."
Chen Feng's voice was not loud, but it resonated like the strike of an ancient bronze bell directly within the spiritual seas of every living being in the compound.
