At this moment, on a bustling city, the clamor of Mortals and cultivators collided in a cacophony of sound, scent, and vibrant movement.
The grand avenue of the border metropolis was paved in polished river stone, flanked by multi-tiered timber pavilions adorned with swaying red silk lanterns and shimmering spirit-ward banners.
Cultivators from across the southern marches rubbed shoulders with traveling merchants, beast-tamers guiding chained scaled hounds, and robed disciples sporting crests of lesser regional sects.
The air was rich with the aroma of roasted spiritual venison, steaming buns infused with sweet cloud-herbs, and the metallic tang of freshly tempered spirit swords resting upon the velvet cloths of open-air stalls.
Here, Qian Yunxi walked with an effortless, buoyant stride, her pristine white martial tunic embroidered with silver feather motifs that billowed slightly around her lithe, athletic frame.
