“Brat, that token is strange, did you not notice?” Vermilion Demon Lord suddenly growled.
“Strange? How?” Jared frowned, pulling the token back out. Cold as before, the single “Nether” character glimmered, yet saw nothing odd.
“Hmph!” Vermilion Demon Lord snorted. “Your spiritual sense is still shallow. There’s an illusion over the token’s surface. If it were ordinary, why would even my fragment of a soul feel a tremor of dread?”
Jared’s expression tightened. He turned the token over and over, but no clue revealed itself.
“Use your Nethersky Eye!” Vermilion Demon Lord barked. “And learn to pay attention!”
A jolt ran through Jared. Knowing Vermilion Demon Lord had sensed something, used his Nethersky Eye. An eye blossomed on his forehead, and the world shifted into a murky monochrome haze.
Under the unblinking gaze of the Nethersky Eye, the black mist covering the token began to writhe as though it were alive.
The once-smooth character for “Nether” suddenly caved in, exposing a minuscule word beneath it, “Skyfall”.
That tiny word glimmered with a gentle, jewel-like light utterly at odds with the icy aura shrouding the rest of the token.
Jared drew in a sharp breath and focused on Vermilion Demon Lord resting inside his consciousness field. “Mr. Vermilion, what exactly is this?”
“Just as I thought!” Vermilion Demon Lord’s soul shuddered violently. “The Skyfall Grotto, one of the most mysterious existences of ancient times! Legend says the people of that place could stride across every plane of existence, picking cultivators marked by extraordinary fate…”
“Even several ancestors of the celestial realm were once ushered away by them. Yet, ten millennia ago, the entire place vanished, along with the sect behind it, as though they had never existed.”
Hearing the explanation, Jared frowned.
What link could that vanished sect have to the secret organization we’re tracking?
And why would its name appear inside this token when it supposedly disappeared ages ago?
“Everett, have you ever heard of the Skyfall Grotto?” asked.
At the mention of those words, Everett‘s weapon slipped from his hand and clanged to the floor.
Color drained from the man’s face, his voice trembling. “Jared, the Skyfall Grotto is supposed to be nothing more than a myth…”
“They say the only criterion for entry is to upend the celestial realm’s Heavenly Law itself. Once, a wandering cultivator, a mere Wandering Immortal Realm Level One cultivator, carried an exceedingly rare spiritual root. The Skyfall Sect bent its rules and took in.”
“Three days later, returned as an Earthly immortal Realm cultivator and wiped out every foe he’d ever made within the Third Heaven before vanishing again… That story has circulated for countless years…”
“A whole major realm in three days?” Jared was dumbstruck.
That speed makes even my progress look tame!
A startling thought struck him.
What if time flows differently there, three days outside becoming three years inside?
Only that could explain such monstrous advancement. With enough resources, even could reach a higher realm within three years.
Training in the Pentacarna Tower already gave a ratio of three days to one year.
At some point, Flaxseed had edged over, eyes round as saucers. “Good grief, that’s insane! If we could get into the Skyfall Sect, we’d shoot straight to the top!”
“Mr. Flaxseed, you’ve never heard of it?” Jared asked.
Flaxseed laughed awkwardly. “After cycling through who-knows-how-many lifetimes, I don‘t exactly keep up with current legends.”
Jared pocketed the token, brow furrowed. “Let‘s set aside whatever ties exist between the sect and that mysterious group for now. Our priority now is the Seventh Hall.”
