Immortal aura rippled outward in waves, pressing down upon the courtyard like collapsing heavens.
One of the newly arrived figures stepped forward first. His robes were deep gold, embroidered with blazing solar patterns that seemed alive.
His hair was streaked with white, yet his posture remained upright and imposing.
"Haoyu," he said calmly, though his voice carried across the entire battlefield. "Are you alright?"
Wen Haoyu immediately bowed deeply, relief flooding his face.
"Ancestor! This junior is unharmed."
The pressure weighing on his heart lessened the moment the four Immortals appeared.
Another asked, "What's the situation? Why is our Sect still losing?"
Wen Haoyu straightened slightly and added quickly, "As long as we capture Bai Zihan, we will win this fight!"
His eyes burned with urgency.
Everything hinged on that.
If Bai Zihan captured—
The Bai Clan would hesitate.
The two Grand Elders would be restrained.
The tide could still turn.
