Edmund moved with practiced ease. He placed the burner on the table and projected a copper talisman mold into the incense bowl. Then he poured in specially refined incense ash. When he removed the mold, the ash had formed a complex rune pattern.
He lit the incense. Thin wisps of smoke rose in twisting strands, weaving themselves into symbols as they ascended—through the rafters, through the clouds, higher and higher—
A distant voice echoed down, faint but clear. “What happened? Why did Elder Klaus’s soul lamp extinguish?”
Lauren’s heart skipped. Two months had passed here. But above, only two hours.
They were exploiting the time difference. She glanced at Edmund and Drake. Drake dipped his finger in tea and wrote several quick characters on the tabletop.
Impersonate her. Lauren understood immediately. She and Indiana resembled each other somewhat—and their voices weren’t far apart. She steadied herself and spoke upward.
“We ran into trouble. While reinforcing the seal in Sky-Covering Valley, we were attacked by cultivators inside. Elder Klaus is dead. I barely escaped.”
Silence. Then—
“What? How can there be people inside Sky-Covering Valley?”
Lauren suppressed a cold smile. No matter how powerful the upper realm was, they couldn’t directly control what happened inside the valley.
She thought quickly, then continued, “Sky-Covering Valley has long been occupied by the worst criminals of this world. It’s a haven for madmen and murderers. Everyone inside is vicious and bloodthirsty. If an outsider enters, they tear them apart without hesitation.”
She added, calmly, “They were fighting over who would eat whom.”
A long silence followed. Finally, the voice spat, “Barbaric savages.”
Lauren pressed on. “What should we do now?”
“Hold your positions. New personnel will descend to assist you.”
“Understood.”
“And eliminate the one who destroyed the Heavenly Eye as soon as possible.”
The incense burned down to ash. The connection severed.
Lauren let out a quiet snort. Kill me? Idiot.
“They’re sending more people,” she said. “Probably to reinforce the seal again. Edmund, do you know what method they’ll use?”
“How would I?” Edmund replied lightly. “If they’ve lost one method, they’ll invent another.”
He looked unhurried. “Don’t panic. It won’t happen immediately. We still have time.”
Lauren rolled her eyes internally. Easy for you to say. “If they descend with their full physical bodies,” she continued, “they’ll need a Substitute Talisman, right?”
“That’s the only method I know,” Edmund said. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t have others.”
True. Human ingenuity had no limits. Block one path, they would find another.
“If they descend fully,” Lauren murmured, “they’ll be true immortals.”
“Dimensional suppression will compress them,” Edmund said calmly. “No matter how strong they are up there, once they enter this realm, they’ll be forced down to peak Mahayana.”
He and Lauren both turned to look at Drake. Already at peak Mahayana.
“If it’s only one person,” Drake said quietly, “I’m not afraid.”
Edmund nodded. “Their target is obvious. They didn’t bother with you—they went straight to Sky-Covering Valley. Even if more descend, their focus will remain the seal. We need to warn the people inside and prepare them.”
He turned to Drake. “Send a reliable disciple. Core Formation or below. No higher.”
Drake considered briefly. “Wayne?”
“Too young,” Edmund waved him off. “Someone steadier.”
Drake’s gaze shifted to Lauren—then he sent a telepathic summons.
“Gerald. Come to Starfell Hall. Bring a Core Formation disciple.”
......
Gerald, upon receiving the message, felt a wave of grievance surge up.
Mr. Drake finally came out of seclusion. Now he’d definitely stand up for him.
Without overthinking it, Gerald grabbed the nearest Core Formation disciple he encountered and flew straight to Starfell Summit.
He burst into Starfell Hall. “Mr. Drake! You’ve finally emerged. These past days—oh, Lauren’s here. She must’ve already told you?”
“Yes,” Drake said evenly. “I know. You handled things well. Sit.”
Gerald immediately brightened. “Thank you, Mr. Drake.”
Lauren glanced at the disciple he’d dragged along. Kareem. One of the children who had entered the sect alongside her years ago.
Wind Spirit Root.
Good. At least Light wouldn’t shave him bald and drag him into Buddhism.
Gerald had barely sat down before launching into complaints. “That bald monk detained my disciple! Forced him to become a monk! Mr. Drake, you must intervene!”
Drake listened calmly. Then he said, “That child has a Light Spirit Root. You do not possess a suitable cultivation method for him. Keeping him by force will only delay his growth.”
Gerald blinked.
Drake continued, “There are many gifted disciples in this world. But without the proper inheritance and guidance, even the greatest aptitude becomes mediocre. In my opinion, following Light to cultivate Buddhism may be the best path for him.”
Silence. Gerald stared. “Mr. Drake… did I hear that correctly?”
He leaned forward. “That’s a demonic monk! What if he corrupts him?”
“Light went mad because he cultivated both Buddhist and demonic arts,” Drake replied evenly. “Your disciple can cultivate only Buddhism. There is no risk of deviation.”
Gerald deflated slightly. “…He doesn’t even want to be a monk.”
Privately, he thought: Forget the monk part. What about my golden robe?
Drake’s gaze sharpened. “Gerald. You’ve been sect leader for so many years. How can you still be so petty?”
“Petty?” Gerald nearly jumped up.
Drake said calmly, “If it is fate, then let it go. Consider the robe a gift.”
Gerald froze. A gift? Just like that? That robe was practically his second heart.
“What’s the point of hoarding all those treasures?” Drake said coolly. “Look at me—I hand out innate spiritual artifacts without blinking.”
Gerald’s lips twitched. He muttered under his breath, “If I remember correctly, the Gintama Sword was left behind by Freya. I even helped him dig up that Mystic Ice back then. It’s not yours, so of course you don’t feel a damn thing giving it away.”
Lauren blinked in surprise. So the sword—and that ice bed—had both been left by her senior brother.
“No wonder,” she said. “Master’s a Thunder Spirit Root. What does he need with a Mystic Ice bed anyway? It’s useless to him.”
Drake’s expression darkened instantly. His aura sharpened, and the air itself seemed to hiss.
Gerald saw the look on his face and went pale. “You’re right, Mr. Drake. I’m stingy. I’ll fix it. I swear.”
The oppressive pressure in the air faded.
Gerald let out a shaky breath before asking carefully, “By the way… Mr. Drake, is Freya really inside?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did his soul lamp go out?”
“I extinguished it.”
Gerald: “…”
Putting out a soul lamp with your bare hands. Of course. Only you would do something that outrageous.
“Why? We all thought he was dead.”
“That’s none of your concern.” Drake’s tone turned icy, and whatever memory he’d touched clearly wasn’t a pleasant one.
Gerald shrank back, swallowing the rest of his questions. He changed the subject at once.
“Mr. Drake, why did you summon me here with my disciple?”
Drake’s gaze shifted to the young man standing behind Gerald. “This child has good potential. Lauren, take him with you.”
“Yes, Master.”
Gerald blinked. “Wait—where are you taking him?”
“Sky-covering Valley.”
“What? Sky-covering Valley again?” Gerald yanked his apprentice behind him. “No, no. Kareem doesn’t want to become a monk!”
Kareem looked like he’d just been struck by lightning.
“I don’t want to shave my head!” he blurted. “My father told me to go home in two years to get married and have children. I’m supposed to have lots of children!”
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