For if the renegades could challenge the supremacy of the righteous path and emerge victorious, what other immutable truths might prove to be nothing more than comforting lies?
What other shackles of tradition might be cast aside by those with the power and the will to reshape the world in their image?
These were dangerous thoughts, heresies that could see one flayed alive in the halls of the orthodox sects. But here, in the wake of Lin Xiang's terrible glory, they bubbled to the surface like poison from a festering wound, insidious and oh-so-tantalizing.
And yet, even as the specter of upheaval loomed over the martial world, the cultivators of the Nine Star City found themselves transfixed by more immediate concerns.
Blood pooled on the cracked flagstones, the cloying scent of offal mingling with the acrid tang of scorched flesh and stone.