The stone path was extremely long, stretching out like a coiled giant serpent winding up the mountain range, eventually vanishing into the distant layers of dark clouds. Walking upon it gave a distinct sense of being incredibly small. Xiao Yan moved at a steady, unhurried pace, advancing step by step toward the mountain peak. Along both sides of the path, towering silver trees stood in abundance—remarkably unique, these trees bore no branches or leaves, appearing instead like straight, sturdy pillars. What most astonished Xiao Yan was that within the trunks of these silver trees, a strong and concentrated electric energy flowed. With the sensitivity of soul power, one could detect a continuous stream of electric aura rising from the tree tops, steadily ascending into the gathering clouds above. Standing there, Xiao Yan pondered thoughtfully. The reason Lei Mountain possessed such formidable wind and thunder power likely stemmed significantly from these unusual trees. With these silver trees supplying constant thunder energy, the clouds in the sky would never dissipate. Consequently, practicing thunder-based cultivation techniques here would yield remarkable results—effort multiplied by effect. "Indeed, the Wind and Thunder Pavilion has chosen an excellent location," Xiao Yan murmured in admiration. As he took a step, a clear, melodious crane call suddenly echoed through the air. Instantly, the group saw a magnificent seven-colored giant crane soaring down from the mountain's base, swiftly ascending toward the summit. "A seven-colored giant crane? Surely the one atop that crane must be the Feng Miss from the Wind and Thunder Pavilion?" Upon seeing the crane, a wave of astonishment and admiration rippled through the mountain path. Xiao Yan's gaze also paused on the seven-colored giant crane. He didn't glance at the crane more than once; instead, his eyes remained firmly fixed on the graceful figure atop its back. From the familiar silhouette, it was clear that the woman was indeed Feng Qing'er. The giant crane did not pause despite the waves of exclamations rising from the mountain path. With a single flap of its wings, it surged into the clouds and soon vanished. When the crane disappeared, Xiao Yan slowly drew his gaze back, his brow furrowing slightly. There must be something concealing her aura—otherwise, with his current strength, he could not have remained unable to discern her true power. "This woman seems quite remarkable. I've met all the members of the Four Palaces, but if we're being honest, Feng Qing'er poses the greatest threat... " Xiao Yan frowned, murmuring to himself. The truly unsettling aspect was the unknown—Tang Ying, Wang Chen, and Mu Qinglun, though all three were exceptionally strong and possessed the caliber to challenge a Daoist Grand Master, did not instill in him the same sense of danger. Only Feng Qing'er remained elusive, leaving him completely unreadable. "If my intuition is correct, then Feng Qing'er will likely emerge as the winner of this year's Four Palaces Grand Assembly," Xiao Yan sighed. While he hadn't concrete evidence to back this up, a deep, intuitive sense of conviction led him to this conclusion. Regarding Feng Qing'er, perhaps due to her connection with the Fenglei Pavilion, Xiao Yan never developed much goodwill toward her, despite her outstanding appearance and demeanor. From the very beginning, he had harbored some reservations about her, so watching her secure victory in the final championship must have stirred a subtle sense of dissatisfaction within him. With a slight sigh, Xiao Yan murmured to himself and decided to move on, no longer lingering on the mountain path. He quickened his pace, eventually transforming into a streak of black rushing swiftly toward the summit. Though the Leishan was known for its towering waves, under Xiao Yan's swift pace, he reached the peak in less than ten minutes. As soon as Xiao Yan had just climbed to the summit, a vibrant, almost magical clamor surged directly into his ears, nearly causing him to feel dizzy. Upon regaining his composure, he felt a deep sense of awe, gazing out only to be stunned by the dense, unending sea of black figures stretching as far as the eye could see. "...” Even with his usual composed demeanor, Xiao Yan found himself at a loss for words. He had never imagined that the Four-Storey Pavilion Grand Assembly would draw such an overwhelming crowd. After a moment of hesitation, he finally sighed in resignation, shifting his body and stepping onto a towering silver tree. With several people already standing on the strange silver trees surrounding him, his movement drew only modest attention. With this excellent view, Xiao Yan was just able to roughly see the summit of Leishan Mountain. The place where they now stood was a plaza, its material clearly the massive silver tree beneath Xiao Yan's feet—uniformly brilliant silver, shining vividly. There were several uneven patches on the plaza, suggesting it had long served as a training ground for the disciples of Fenglei Pavilion. The most striking feature of the entire Tianmù Mountain summit was the towering silver spire. This spire stood at least thirty to forty zhang in height, impressively majestic. Outside its body, flashes of lightning danced continuously, while at its peak, the structure pierced directly into the cloud layer, creating a profoundly mysterious atmosphere. On the summit, there were numerous buildings, likely the residences of Fenglei Pavilion disciples. Xiang Yan glanced at them briefly and then stopped at the spot directly in front of the vast silver plaza. There, several silver wooden benches with excellent views stood ready, before which a number of Fenglei Pavilion disciples stood straight and composed, their demeanor stern—clearly not ordinary disciples. Though all the benches were currently empty, it was evident that only the most prominent figures from the Four Pavilion would have the privilege of sitting here. Seeing that the grand assembly had not yet officially begun, Xiao Yan simply settled himself onto the silver wood, folded his legs, and closed his eyes to meditate... His meditation session didn't last long. Suddenly, a clear and crisp chime rang out, drifting gently across Leishan. Immediately, numerous agile figures leapt from the summit and dispersed, forming an optimal arrangement that completely encircled the entire mountain peak—any movement or disturbance would be instantly detected and locked onto by these sharp-eyed guards. "The disciples of Fenglei Pavilion truly are well-trained," Xiao Yan remarked, his eyes opening as he casually glanced at the positions of the figures, silently noting their arrangement. "Boom!" As he was speaking to himself, a massive lightning bolt surged suddenly from within the clouds, flashing with such intensity that most people instinctively closed their eyes. Xiao Yan narrowed his eyes, gazing at the massive lightning bolt. Several figures stepped forward slowly and finally settled onto the silver wooden throne. As his gaze swept across the group, it immediately settled on a familiar figure, and a cold glint passed through his eyes: "Fei Tian..." "Four masters from the Wind-Light Pavilion—remarkable. This time, the Wind-Light Pavilion truly has its strongest talents all present. The one in the center must be the renowned Thunder Sovereign, as rumored." When the others opened their eyes and saw the four seated on the platform, waves of astonishment rose instantly. Upon hearing this, Xiao Yan's heart stirred, and his gaze instantly settled on the person standing at the center. This individual was notably tall, appearing to be in his forties or fifties, though a streak of silvery beard adorned his chin. He wore a set of silver robes, intricately embroidered with lightning patterns that seemed to ripple and flow continuously—almost like living entities—while a subtle aura of thunder power radiated from within. Though his overall presence appeared less formidable than that of Fei Tian and his companions, even seeming ordinary, Xiao Yan, with his exceptional soul perception, clearly sensed an intense sense of danger emanating from him. This sensation was one that Fei Tian himself had never experienced. "Then this must be the headmaster of Feng Lei Pavilion—the Lord of Lightning?" Indeed, quite terrifying...” Xiao Yan exhaled softly. This was undoubtedly the first time he had faced a true Dou-Zun-level powerhouse in his physical form. Although he had encountered a silver-robed elder at the Soul Palace who was also a Dou-Zun, at that time, Xiao Yan had only been a fragment of his soul. “Whoosh!” As Xiao Yan was marveling, a sharp, piercing wind sound suddenly echoed across the Lei Mountain. Instantly, everyone was stunned to see a colossal sword, stretching ten zhang in length, slicing through the sky and swiftly appearing above the plaza. “Hah! Sword Sovereign, you’ve come the fastest this time,” the silver-robed Lei Sovereign rose to his feet, his laughter resonating like thunder across the mountain. The great sword trembled slightly, then fragmented into countless shimmering points, scattering like sparks. Yet, two figures descended gracefully from the sky, landing gently upon the seating area. Two figures stood there—one elderly, one young. The younger one, Xiao Yan recognized immediately, as he was none other than Tang Ying, the envoy from the Ten-Thousand-Sword Pavilion. The elder, though slightly shorter in stature, wore simple cotton robes, appearing unremarkable—a quiet old man among the crowd. Yet everyone present knew that this seemingly ordinary elder was no less formidable than the Thunder Sovereign himself. Just as the Sword Sovereign had settled into his seat, a strange, somewhat eerie laugh echoed forth. Then, a surge of dark light burst from the foot of the mountain, swiftly materializing before the seat as if by teleportation—without ceremony, he merely swept his robe aside and sat down. The figure who appeared was an elderly man clad entirely in black robes, his complexion pale, with a shadowed air about his features, his brows bearing an aura of gloom. His eyes—one black, one white—gave off a particularly strange contrast. Behind him stood a familiar figure, none other than Wang Chen of the Yellow Springs Pavilion. "Back then, I was only slightly outmatched, and thus fell to him. Compared to someone who barely managed a hundred rounds against the Wind Sovereign, that's quite an improvement, wouldn't you agree, Sovereign of the Yellow Springs?" the Sword Sovereign glanced at the black-robed elder, speaking with a calm, neutral tone. Hearing this, the cloaked elder's eyes instantly grew cold. Yet as he was about to speak in mock rebuke, his expression slightly changed, and his somber gaze fixed firmly on the sky—where suddenly, a wind sound reminiscent of a dragon's roar burst forth. "This old man is clearly the fastest, yet he always arrives last," remarked the Sword Sovereign, lifting his head and gazing steadily toward the distant sky with a smile. As soon as the Sovereign finished speaking, the dragon-like wind sound roared steadily and swiftly, and then a massive green whirlwind materialized, appearing before the eyes of everyone on the mountain peak. At that very moment, Xiao Yan's attention shifted sharply, fixing his gaze on the figure ahead, and clenched his fists tightly within his sleeves.