At the summit of Shu Mountain stood a pitch‑black tower, rising high into the sky. No one knew how many years it had been there; just looking at it, one could feel an ancient, time‑worn aura.
The tower had seven levels. The higher it went, the smaller it became, until the very tip was as thin as a needle. From all eight directions around the Octagonal Exquisite Tower, identical pitch‑black Mystic Iron Chains anchored it firmly, nailed into the massive boulders at its base.
Cold wind howled across the mountaintop, rattling the Iron Chains with a clanging din that made one's skin crawl just listening to it.
Li Zhengyang's second disciple, Xu Rong, was sitting there cross‑legged, guarding the Evil‑Suppressing Tower.
"There's movement again."
He frowned and looked up. The Evil‑Suppressing Tower seemed to be swaying, yet clearly it hadn't budged in the slightest!
