“As for the remaining tokens, we‘ll tackle them as they come.” If i can gather every piece, I might truly uncover the Skyfall Grotto’s secret, and maybe find an opportunity to gain more power…
“All right, let’s head for the Seventh Hall,” said. The Seventh Hall outclassed the Barbaric Clan, Destiny Sect, and Bloodshadow Palace. After all, its overlord was at the Top Level Wandering immortal Realm Level Nine. And with the Celestial Palace of the celestials backing it, its strength was anything but ordinary. Hence, Jared dared not treat this trip lightly.
The party set off toward the Seventh Hall.
Unease shadowed Jared’s mind the entire way. The Skyfall Sect legend was too overwhelming, and the shadow group plainly intertwined with it.
Is Ghostmask’s token a pass into that organization or a key to the Skyfall Grotto?
***
While they journeyed, far away inside the Third Heaven lay a place cloaked in mystery.
Blinding white radiance surrounded it, to an outsider’s eye, there was nothing but light. Yet stepping through that brilliance revealed towering mountains crowned with magnificent palaces.
In one such palace, an elderly man sat cross-legged, eyes closed in deep meditation, or perhaps cultivation.
At the Chamber’s center, a dozen terrified children stared around, tear streaks still glistening on their cheeks.
“Mommy, I want my mommy… Please let us go… I’m scared…”
Their cries rang out, but the old man remained unmoved, as though were deaf to everything.
All around, wisps of collected souls and wandering spirits, directed by some unseen force, poured relentlessly into the children’s bodies. Those souls writhed in vain, unable to break free.
As the influx continued, the children gradually fell silent, their small faces twisting with unnatural ferocity.
Within moments, every one of them crumpled wordlessly to the floor, drained of life and pale as wax.
The elderly man opened his eyes at last. A weary breath slipped past his lips as muttered, “Worthless trash…”
With a lazy sweep of his sleeve, the dozen small bodies at his feet dissolved into ash that a cold draft carried away, leaving the floor of the great hall scrubbed of every stain.
“Grand Elder Dioz, terrible news…” A robed disciple burst through the doors, panic shortening his stride.
Dioz’s brows knitted. “Why the commotion?”
“G-Ghostmask has been killed…” the disciple whispered.
“What?” Dioz sprang upright, his chair toppling behind him. “Say that again!”
“The Five Wraiths, Ghostmask and the others, are all dead!”
“Rubbish!” Dioz‘s roar shookthe rafters. “Those five are unrivaled throughout the Third Heaven. Who could possibly kill them? Together they can even summon the Ravenousor Wraith, no one beneath the Earthly immortal Realm could touch them.”
He paced, voice shredding into a snarl. “A mere Third Heaven… No cultivator here could lay a finger on my Five Wraiths. Combined, they could crush a Top Level Wandering immortal!”
“Grand Elder Dioz, it is true. All five soul lamps went dark moments ago.” The disciple‘s helpless expression made the words land like stones.
“The token, Ghostmask’s token, did you recover it?” Dioz’s face blanched. Sweat pearled on his forehead.
The disciple shook his head. “It’s gone. Most likely lost…”
Dioz’s legs buckled, crashed to the floor, ice trickling down his spine.
If the token is missing, my own head will roll next…
“Go! Bring me the Nether Duo. Now!”
The disciple fled. Within breaths, two dreadful auras swept into the great hall, and the lights dimmed to a deathly gloom. Shadows congealed into a pair of figures.
