Mount Baiyun.
The moon hangs high.
At the peak, a man with disheveled hair holding a wine jug stands with a sword planted before him.
Behind him, dozens of people stand.
"Master Trent, is your information accurate?" someone asks.
"There's less than five minutes left until the time you mentioned."
"But right now, there's no sign of anyone."
Everyone expresses their opinions one after another.
"Based on my investigation and the accounts of many people, I can deduce that Julius Reed is extremely conceited. Someone so proud wouldn't lie; such people love to act openly and fairly." Trent Marsh raises the wine jug, which seems empty.
"Ah, good wine, the moon. To have such an opponent truly is one of life's greatest fortunes." Trent discards the wine jug, still sitting on a rock, and raises his head to gaze at the moon in the sky.
Not a cloud in sight.
The starry sky is brilliant.
