Kyrian remained seated on the high branch of the Ancestral Tree, the gentle wind swaying the leaves around him as if the tree itself breathed calmly. He watched the chaos below with half-closed eyes, his mind serene like the surface of a still lake on a windless night. Nothing down there attracted him enough to descend. Not yet.
The clearing around the colossal tree had turned into a true battlefield. Cries of pain, explosions of colored Qi, the metallic sound of clashing swords, and the roar of spiritual techniques echoed without pause. The ground was covered with splinters of wood, fresh blood, and destroyed leaves that still pulsed faintly before completely fading away.
