The silence lasted for three heartbeats.
Then the sky above the plaza tore open.
It wasn't a sound, but a sensation—a deep, resonant rip in the world itself. The perfect blue dome fractured into a spiderweb of violet light. The last dregs of the Progenitor Rift were bleeding out, and the energy painted the heavens in violent, shifting hues of amethyst and indigo.
Lin Tian didn't look up. He kept his eyes on the faces of the rival elders. The violet light cast their features in stark, ugly shadows.
He rose effortlessly. His body felt denser, more real. As his soles touched the stone, roots struck deep into the mountain. The spiritual pressure became a gravitational field, making the air around him thick, settled, and quiet.
A disciple in the front row of the Azure Snow section gasped and took an involuntary step back.
"Earth Spirit," someone whispered, the word carried on a shocked breath.
It wasn't a question.
