Gulp, gulp...
In a forest of vibrant green, Daoist Jiu sat upon a massive boulder, one leg bent and resting on the stone, his hand clutching a wine gourd against his knee. Though he looked disheveled and unkempt, his eyes were sharp as blades, fixed steadily ahead.
Behind Daoist Jiu stood a colossal mountain, split down the center by a gap three or four hundred meters wide. Within it lingered an icy, bone-chilling sword intent.
Chapter 441