Outside the Grand-Orient Formation.

“Dead, they’re all dead!”

“Damn the Onyx Sect, curse those traitors!”

Shrieks of anger and misery could be heard everywhere as eight thousand Cloudmist keepers scrambled back to their own sect.

“This will be the end of our sect. Thousands of years of history all gone to waste, and the Cloudmist Sword School is no more.”

“Run while you still can, forget Heaven’s Elysium!”

The Cloudmist keepers weren’t the only ones in distress. The Elysian purifiers who were lucky enough to escape the slaughter were also wandering the mountains like headless flies. With their numbers limited and their morale gone, they no longer posed a threat. The priority for them now was to heal the injured with spirit herbs before their injuries worsened, then find their way back to their own sect.

Some of the remaining Elysian elders gathered in a corner together with Jun Niancang, who was still alive. He had intended to join...