Soul Devourer’s lip curled. “But this guy wields some Dragon Bell that’s capable of replacing the Roaring Storm Bell. Thanks to that, I continued to be sealed in for several more days. Tell me, Stebarin, was it Malevolent Path Hall that stole the Roaring Storm Bell from Roaring Storm Church?”
Not daring to lie, Stebarin bowed low. “Yes, My Lord. We knew the seal had to be reinforced with the Roaring Storm Bell every hundred years, so we stole it. That way, it’d be easier for you and the demonic souls to break the seal.”
A thin smile touched Soul Devourer’s lips. “Then I ought to thank you, huh?” Stebarin straightened half an inch, missing the menace beneath the courtesy. “There is no need, My Lord. We are all Demonic Cultivators. Helping one another is only natural.”
To Stebarin’s surprise, Soul Devourer let out a cold snort. “You stole the Roaring Storm Bell and freed us only because you guys wish to harvest my demonic souls for your cultivation. Isn’t that right?”
His contemptuous grunt echoed like distant thunder. Stebarin’s mouth went dry. No answer came, for Soul Devourer’s accusation struck all too close to the truth.
After all, the demonic souls were all Demonic Cultivators slain in the past. Whenever a demonic soul was suppressed, it would be absorbed by Malevolent Path Hall for cultivation. Whether demon, human, or beast, it made no difference to them.
Soul Devourer’s voice softened, though it remained edged with iron. “Even so, you guys have been a big help. No matter what motives you had, I still ought to thank Malevolent Path Hall… This time, I will go on a killing spree in level six. You’re free to collect every soul that crosses your path.”
“Thank you, My Lord!” Stebarin exclaimed, the promise of fresh souls making bubble over with excitement.
The group continued to advance, with Soul Devourer at the front and his entourage of demonic spirits and cultivators fanning out behind. But just as the jagged silhouette of Roaring Storm Church rose over the mist, a sudden ripple of spiritual energy sliced across the air, causing Soul Devourer to frown.
“There are celestial cultivators nearby,” muttered, voice low and cold. “Find them…”
At the command, every demonic soul and Demonic Cultivator scattered like shards of living shadow, sweeping through ruined courtyards and broken pavilions.
Moments later, they returned, dragging more than a dozen trembling cultivators and forcing them to their knees before Soul Devourer.
Stebarin stepped forward, eyes narrowing behind his crimson mask. “Are you guys celestial cultivators? Have you come to spy on us?”
He studied the captives, robes torn, faces pale, then let the question hang like a blade above their heads.
“No, no,” the cultivator at the helm blurted as shook his head frantically. “We are from the Celestial Palace’s Sixth Hall. I am Sixth Hall’s overlord, Drystan Hexford.”
“Members of the Celestial Palace?” Soul Devourer’s eyes flickered with surprise, though the chill in his voice never thawed.
Behind him, an elder clad in ragged black scoffed. “Those from the Celestial Palace are like those in Celestial City, nothing more than a bunch of arrogant celestials. I’m sure they’re here to pry, then strike us when we let our guard down. I say we spare ourselves the nuisance and silt their throats now.”
His words drifted forward like a death sentence, and the captives shrank.
Drystan lifted both hands in frantic denial. “No, no, no! W-We may share the same blood, but we are different from Celestia.”
He waved even harder, as though shooing away the very idea. “So you serve the Third Hall instead?” Stebarin quickly asked.
“That’s right!” Drystan seized on the lifeline. nodding until his neck ached. “I am Stebarin Hemato of Malevolent Path Hall,” Stebarin announced, letting the captives taste each syllable.
His name fell like an iron weight, making several of them flinch. Recognition swiftly dawned in Drystan’s eyes, followed by desperate hope.
“Third Hall’s overlord has long had close ties with Malevolent Path Hall, Mr. Hemato. I hope you can put in a good word for us,” Drystan pleaded. “We have absolutely no intention of opposing My Lord. If you wish to kill the people of Celestia, we will not stand in your way either.”
Stebarin leaned close to Soul Devourer and whispered. Whatever promise offered coaxed a cold, satisfied smile from the demonic figure.
“I see… Turns out celestials are not wholly unbending after all,” mused, voice dripping with mockery. “Since you aren’t allies of Celestia, leave this instant and get out of level six. From this moment on, level six belongs to me.”
Color flooded Drystan’s cheeks, shame, fury, and helplessness warring beneath his skin. He bowed anyway, knowing full well that in Soul Devourer’s shadow, power alone dictated pride.
Drystan hurriedly nodded, his voice cracking under the weight of panic. “Sure! We’ll leave. We’ll be gone this instant!”
With that, spun on his heel, robes flapping, and shot downhill with his entourage in tow, all of them scattering faster than startled jackrabbits.
Whatever grand promise Drystan had made about slaying Jared evaporated the moment Soul Devourer emerged with that overwhelming display of force. Drystan assumed, quite reasonably, that no matter how formidable Jared was, would undoubtedly meet a tragic end.
