“What exactly is the Malevolent Path Hall?” Jared asked, genuinely puzzled.
“It’s an organization, one that collects the souls of the dead. I never dreamed they’d descend to the Third Heaven,” Saleto answered, his shock plain to see.
His words left Jared certain that the mysterious group Everett had mentioned was indeed Malevolent Path Hall.
“Are they powerful?” Jared pressed. “Very… They’ve existed for several thousand years, gathering wandering souls wherever large numbers of cultivators die, battlefields, sect massacres, you name it…”
“I even heard that during a sect war in the Ninth Heaven, more than ten thousand dead, their people showed up…” Saleto spoke in a shaken whisper.
“Oh?” Jared’s brow furrowed. “That means their strength must surpass even the Ninth Heaven.”
“Of course. They appear everywhere, yet they never join fights, only harvest souls. No one knows what they do with them,” Saleto said. “And now they‘ve clashed with you for reasons we still don’t understand.”
Saleto could make no sense of it. Jared, however, understood perfectly. Malevolent Path Hall wanted Vermilion Demon Lord’s divine soul, when refused, they attacked.
Just then, a memory of the token flickered through Jared’s mind. If those people scoured the realms for souls, the token was probably connected.
He almost asked Saleto about it, then thought better of revealing carried the token. Better to stay silent.
“What message did they send you?” Flaxseed’s tone was grave.
Saleto‘s voice shook. “Dioz, their Grand Elder-ls coming here himself. He says either we surrender you, or levels the entire Seventh Hall.”
He drew a ragged breath. “He’s bringing the Eight Shadow Pavilion Devotees and the Twelve Blood Guards. Even if every sect in the Third Heaven joined forces, we might not stop that army.”
Jared’s fingers brushed the hilt of the Dragonslayer Sword. His gaze was calm, too calm. “Looks like they’re truly desperate…”
“Jared, maybe you should leave first,” Jhaelyn blurted. “The Third Heaven is vast. If you hide, they might never find you.”
Saleto nodded quickly. “Live to fight another day. Their power is overwhelming, there’s no need to meet them head-on.”
“As long as you aren’t here, they’ll have no reason to hurt me. I still have the Celestial Palace behind me, the entire celestial race.” Jared slowly shook his head and looked northwest.
At some point, inky clouds had swallowed that stretch of sky. Lightning flickered within, and a crushing aura hurtled closer by the second.
“We can’t run,” said quietly. “If Dioz dares come in person, the Worldlock Net is already spread. Besides…”
He paused, a shard of killing intent flashing in his eyes. “I don’t leave my troubles for others. They’re after me. Let them come, I’ll be waiting.”
Outside the Seventh Hall, a howling came from the Darkwind Abyss. Gritty wind lashed the blue-slate tiles with sharp cracks, a drummer beating out death.
Inside, Saleto’s voice quivered beyond control. The communication device had already been ground to dust in his fist, the grit sifting through his fingers.
Jhaelyn clutched Jemima‘s hand so tightly that both sets of knuckles blanched. Even Flaxseed, forcing calm, kept glancing toward the cave mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing.
Hands clasped behind his back, Jared stood at the stone door. His gaze pierced the thick rock to the rolling black clouds beyond. Spiritual energy coiled around like a crouching beast, still on the surface, but ready to spring.
Inside its sheath, the Dragonslayer Sword hummed, sensing the battle to come. A faint golden glow bled along the blade.
