Chapter 3000 On the Verge
Chapter 3000 On the Verge
"Oh?" Everyone instinctively turned their heads in the direction of Holy Son Mi Yan.
His Excellency Holy Son had maintained his composure all along, as if he were anticipating someone's arrival.
Could it be that apart from this Holy Son, the Divine Palace had dispatched even more formidable experts?
As these thoughts coursed through the minds of those present, they faintly caught the strains of an elegant tune wafting into their ears from the distance.
Raising their gaze, they witnessed flowers cascading from the heavens. Enveloping a white-clad maiden, four to five young women adorned in ethereal and gossamer garments circled around her. Descending gracefully from the sky, they resembled fairies alighting in the mortal realm.
Qiao Mu spied them and couldn't help but roll her eyes discreetly.
Each time Holy Daughter made an entrance, there was always an ostentatious display involving the scattering of flowers to welcome her. Today, however, the spectacle was relatively subdued.
Merely four or five young women accompanied her, tossing flower petals and radiating halos. Compared to their first encounter in the capital, when they had been enveloped by hundreds or even thousands of onlookers, the difference was striking.
"Greetings, Holy Daughter," everyone from the temple greeted in unison.
Holy Son Mi Yan cast a cold gaze toward Nie Yaoguang, giving a slight nod. "Yaoguang, have all representatives from the other three academies arrived?"
Holy Daughter Nie Yaoguang took a step forward, offering a slight bow to Holy Son Mi Yan. He nodded and replied, "The members from the Sword-Flying, Hong, and Lanyang Academies are all present."
"Go and tally the headcount," Holy Son Mi Yan instructed with a composed demeanor. "If everyone is accounted for, we shall commence."
Nie Yaoguang complied. Throughout the entire exchange, his gaze remained fixed straight ahead, never veering an inch from Qiao Mu.
Whether it was due to the lingering apprehension from the earlier episode with the stoic figure's scolding or simply an outright indifference, he steadfastly chose to ignore the stoic countenance.
Since she had chosen to ignore Qiao Mu, the stoic figure naturally refrained from initiating any attention towards her as well.
Observing Holy Daughter Nie Yaoguang embarking on the task of headcount, Miss Qiao positioned herself to the side, maintaining her calm and unruffled demeanor amidst the surrounding tumult.
Before long, Nie Yaoguang returned to Holy Son's side, nodding in confirmation. "Practically everyone is present, save for Madam Guo'an and her entourage…"
"Apologies for the delay." A voice suddenly interjected, and the assembly beheld a rotund Consort, her countenance concealed by a black veil. She was accompanied by a burly man and an elderly, black-bearded individual.
Qiao Mu recognized the burly man; he was the one she had encountered in the courtyard while rescuing Fifth Young Sir Qin that day.
The black-bearded elder projected a rather stern expression that Qiao Mu had never before witnessed. However, it was evident that the elder possessed considerable cultivation, as it was impossible to gauge their level with a mere glance.
Upon approaching Holy Son Mi Yan, Madam Guo'an finally espied the stoic figure standing at the side.
The Consort's visage darkened instantly, and without uttering a word, she retrieved a spiritual tool from her consciousness pool and hurled it in the direction of the stoic figure, who remained expressionless.
This time, the stoic figure had employed a spiritual tool. It would be interesting to see how she would evade this one.
Qiao Mu extended her hand and projected a ripple-shaped, radiant barrier, which imprisoned the spiritual tool launched by the Consort. The sound of colliding air currents echoed through the vicinity, as the spiritual tool remained ensnared within the luminous, radiant barrier, unable to penetrate or breach its defensive boundaries.
Madam Guo'an's countenance darkened drastically. She ground her teeth and activated the spiritual tool in her grasp, harboring a fervent desire to carve a gaping wound into the stoic figure's neck right then and there, hoping to teach her an unforgettable lesson.