"You mean... I cannot return?"
The small pavilion on the hill was shrouded in a golden light.
Xie Xuanyi reached out and pressed his hand against the faint golden barrier. If he wished, he could unleash his Destruction Sword Intent at any moment, piercing through the golden barrier to make an opening, but he did not do so. Through the layer of golden light, Xie Xuanyi suddenly heard cries from not far away. There were streams of Sword Qi flashing across the Heavenly Peak, shuttles breaking through miasma, and war chariots crashing through mountains—sounds of this nature mingled together. He attempted to extend his Divine Thought to the edge of its limit... there he sensed a familiar aura, that of the Sword Cultivators from Baihua Valley on Round Turtle Mountain, as well as Cultivators from the Jiang Family.
No, something is wrong.
How could this be?
