The darkness inside the coffin did not last long.
After a while, the surrounding sounds came to an abrupt halt.
A sense of weightlessness enveloped everyone, and then, the darkness before them rapidly dissipated.
In the midst of a fog, they opened their eyes one after another.
A chant echoed in their ears, its tone low and bizarre. The voice seemed to hold a demonic quality, repeating the same line over and over in the silence.
"Fire Buddha Cultivation One, Xinsamou..."
"Fire Buddha Cultivation One, Xinsamou..."
'Who's speaking?'
'No, wait.'
'This voice... is it coming from me?'
The blood of all the undercover disciples and You Gu ran cold, and only then did they fully snap to their senses.
They found themselves sitting cross-legged inside an old wooden house.
The room was dim, with only a few red lanterns hanging from the ceiling beams casting a crimson glow. The swaying red light stretched and twisted everyone's shadow on the floor.
