The peak of the Imperial City.
The rain was a torrential downpour, and thunder rumbled incessantly.
A one-armed, middle-aged Sword Cultivator with a sword on his back stood before the Great Flame Dragon Wall, watching the rain. His expression was silent, and it was impossible to tell what he was waiting for.
At a certain moment.
The rain in every direction seemed to freeze. Each droplet hung suspended in the air, motionless. Even the splashes where they had struck the stone ground were frozen in time.
The one-armed Sword Cultivator looked toward one of the city gates, his expression impassive.
"I never thought the Dao Alliance's number one Tributor, the great Immortal Zuo Ren, would be here playing gatekeeper."
A drunken sot in a bamboo hat, leaning on a bamboo staff and carrying a wine gourd, sauntered over with a grin.
