Ding!
A deep chime echoed through the heavens as the Austere Clan's defensive arrays sprang to life.
An enormous ripple of spiritual energy surged across the skies, distorting the clouds and causing the earth to tremble faintly beneath the weight of its power.
Towering pillars of light rose from the ground, encasing the clan's territory in a fortress of ancient formations—silent guardians forged by generations of cultivators.
The air grew heavy, thick with spiritual pressure. Lesser cultivators would have fallen to their knees under such a crushing aura, their meridians straining to withstand the force.
But the army accompanying Veronica's father stood unshaken. They bore the pressure with eerie composure, their formation seamless, their eyes forward and unflinching.
These were no ordinary cultivators.
