Sect Leader's Hall.
Chen Tianyuan sat behind his desk, his Vermilion Brush pausing mid-air before landing on the open scroll.
Just then—
An indescribable presence suddenly arose from somewhere on the mountainside.
The aura's arrival was abrupt, yet it seemed as if it had always existed between heaven and earth, like an invisible sharp sword piercing the tranquility of the early summer morning.
The tip of Chen Tianyuan's brush froze on the scroll for an instant.
He lifted his head, his gaze piercing through the window lattice toward the source of the aura.
As a Martial Artist at the peak of the Late Stage of First Grade, he was all too familiar with such an aura.
It was Sword Intent.
The Sword Intent that only a select few among the Upper Three Grades Martial Artists could ever comprehend.
"Someone has comprehended Sword Intent."
Chen Tianyuan muttered to himself, a flash of unconcealable surprise in his gentle eyes.
He stood up and walked out of the Sect Leader's Hall.
