A boiling cauldron of voices could be heard within Lemon Camping Ground, as if people were celebrating a festival.
Gu Xuan took in the surrounding environment and was rather shocked to see the excitement and joy in people’s faces. He carried a sword, his hair worn up in a bun which was kept in place with a wooden hairpin. His sparse stubble was well trimmed and stiff, making him look more robust.
He’d already found a few swordsmen and even more metal elementalists. The place was bustling with activity.
Lemon Camping Ground was overcrowded, yet orderly, and no one caused any problems. There had been a few troublemakers two days back who were killed by Master Yang on the spot. Their corpses were thrown outside the camp.
Gu Xuan wasn’t used to to this. The aura of a Master swept across the camping ground unceasingly, and every time this happened, the keen and perceptive Gu Xuan would automatically grab hold of his sword hilt.
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