Morning light was just washing over the broken walls and ruins of Longyuan Valley. As Pi Yanlin moved to help Gu Qinghuan to her feet, a sudden chill grazed the back of his neck.
The lazy outer corners of his eyes twitched upward—that wispy gray fog, which should have dissipated with the reshaping of the laws of reality, was churning once more above the altar. Drawn by a million invisible threads, it slowly coalesced into a human silhouette.
"Old Pi?" Gu Qinghuan's hand was already resting on the hilt of the broken saber at her waist. Through the faint rustle of the scabbard scraping against her clothing, she caught sight of an indistinct golden crown hovering above the figure's head—the exact attire of the "Son of Heaven's Mandate" described in the scriptures of the Holy Monarch Cult.
Chapter 148