In the two hours that Su Yu had been away, the Icy Camp on the slopes of Yunlu Mountain had autonomously built itself up. Of course, it was built under the watchful eyes of hundreds of cultivators.
It was early October now, the season with fair autumn weather, but the slopes were covered in a thick layer of snow that showed no signs of melting.
The Icy Camp, identical to the one in the illusory battle, sat atop the snow.
In the main hall of the camp, an old man with a patchy white goatee was calmly smoking his pipe, looking at Su Yu, Zhong Feng, and the hundreds of grandmasters outside the camp as if they didn't exist.
Out of courtesy, Su Yu didn't use his psychic power to probe the old man. He exchanged a glance with Zhong Feng and said, "Let's go in."
"Alright." Zhong Feng nodded and followed Su Yu into the Icy Camp.
As for the other hundreds of grandmasters, they didn't follow but continued to watch from the outside.
...