Gwendolyn stood at the highest point of the city walls, ice-blue divine radiance flowing across her palm.
Behind her stood the Frosthall's 137 disciples. In every pair of eyes, the flame was burning. They had only awakened the bloodline not long ago, and their cultivation still hadn't stabilized. Even so, not one of them stepped back.
Gideon stood in the doorway of the Council Hall, staring at the five upper-realm celestial warriors in the distance. A cold glint cut through his eyes. A longsword was clenched in his hand, and a glaring silver light ran along the blade.
Behind him stood those dozens of human cultivators who had escaped from the Sixteenth Firmament. Every one of them was above the fifth tier of the True Immortal Realm. Their wounds still hadn't closed. Bandages were still wrapped around their bodies, but their eyes shone hard and bright.
"The Sixteenth Firmament... The Celestial Alliance's lapdogs..." Gideon's voice was quiet, but every word came out like it had been forced through clenched teeth. He tightened his grip on the longsword, then turned to the dozens of human cultivators behind him.
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