Back in the Divine Spirit Hall, black incense still curled lazily in the air, and the oppressive gloom of the chamber had not faded.
The obsidian table, carved from the petrified ribs of the ancient beast beneath Evil Dragon City, stood unchanged. Around it, the same familiar faces were seated—seven representatives of the Evil Alliance.
But Mie Lin's seat was no longer empty.
In her place now sat Gu Rong, robed in icy white, her silver hair bound neatly behind her shoulders.
The expressions of those present were guarded, though none spoke carelessly.
The only newcomer was Han Zhao of the Soul Refining Sect—still clad in his travel-worn robe, his expression tightly restrained.
"The matter has concluded. Sect Master Li Fang… is dead."
A hush fell across the table.
Han Yu of the Bone Forging Sect was the first to speak. "Dead, you say? And the other three?"
