The sky above the borderlands of the State of Yue had ceased to look like a sky. It was a bruised, heaving canvas of violet and crimson, torn apart by energies so vast they made the very mountains below tremble in fear. The arrival of the five Great Demonic Sects from the State of Qin had shattered the grinding stalemate between the Mystic Peak Sect and the Azure Sword Clan, replacing a war of attrition with an apocalypse.
High above the clouds, far beyond the perception of ordinary disciples, the Nascent Soul Ancestors clashed. Every few seconds, a shockwave would roll down from the heavens, flattening forests and vaporizing entire companies of cultivators who were unlucky enough to be underneath. The air tasted of copper, sulfur, and the cloying, rotting sweetness of demonic qi.
