The next day. The Wudang Sect leadership began their meeting. Even Sect Leader Jeong Hyeong the True Immortal had his arm wrapped in bandages.
A bone had broken in the middle of the fierce battle. Thankfully, because Jin Cheon-hee had treated him quickly, he said there would not be much in the way of lasting aftereffects. It was heavenly luck.
‘With the Fist Emperor not here, I have to endure until Daoist Cheon-u can completely take his place.’
Maybe it really was true that the end times were drawing near. At first, even the Elders had shouted in disbelief, saying, What kind of nonsense is this, some false cult babble deceiving the people? But now, a few had started to seriously believe it.
Which made sense. Wudang also had eyes and ears.
And also.
Every year, every single year, had been a crisis. It was not only the Sect Leader who had been injured. All the Elders had suffered wounds, big or small.
A few had already passed on and were no longer present in this place. Jeong Hyeong the True Immortal stared blankly at those empty seats left behind. He thought he had grown used to blood calamities, but having their mountain gate invaded was something he would never grow used to.
The pain of sending off martial brothers and senior brothers who were like flesh and blood was the same. In the middle of that, the Sect Leader opened his mouth.