The scent of blood and ozone hung heavy in the air over Qunyu Peak, a grim perfume that clung to the damp night mist. The Nimbus Cloud Sea Formation, once a pristine white, was now stained with patches of crimson, slowly churning as it digested the last vestiges of the invaders' life force.

Qingyuan Sect disciples moved with grim efficiency, their faces pale but their movements steady. They stripped the corpses of the Demon Summoning Cultists, piling storage rings and spiritual artifacts into designated chests. There was no triumph in their expressions, only the cold, hard finality of a task completed.

Li Mo stood on the precipice of the Autumn Water Pavilion, his gaze sweeping over the scene of methodical cleanup. The frigid night air did little to cool the arctic fury that had taken root in his soul.

His eyes, which now saw the world in a terrifying new clarity, were fixed not on the carnage below, but on the distant Main Hall where Shangguan Wencang had likely returned.