Swordfire State.
Sword Mountain.
Tianjian City.
Bound to a stone pillar, Xia Chan was covered in wounds, frail and weak.
Facing the jeers and taunts of thousands of Divine Sect disciples, her face was emotionless, her heart undisturbed. She could imagine her own fate, but she didn't care.
She never wanted to live in this world to begin with.
...
"Kill her!"
"Kill her!"
"..."
After the old man's splendid "speech" concluded, thousands of Divine Sect disciples raised their arms and roared, their voices like thunder. The deafening cries for her death dragged Xia Chan back to reality.
The old man, dressed in a Sword Robe and exuding the aura of an immortal, raised a hand. The entire field was plunged into an instantaneous, deathly silence. Then, he walked unhurriedly toward Xia Chan.
