Riding upon the edge of his celestial blade, Haoran cut through the atmosphere at a velocity that bordered on the speed of light.
To any observer on the ground, he would have appeared as nothing more than a fleeting silver needle sewing the clouds together before vanishing into the blue.
The wind did not dare buffet him, and instead it parted around his Qi-reinforced form in a perfect, silent slipstream.
Qinq'er had contacted him through a communication artifact—thought transmission couldn't work since the distance is too far—the previous night, her voice projecting a rare tone of apology into his mind.
She had explained that her return would be delayed due to the catastrophic fallout of the explosion incident and the subsequent stabilization of the Ning Clan's territory.
