Dongbo Xueying and his companions, along with the indigenous team, sped swiftly toward the core of the floating island. With the natives leading the way, their journey was smooth and unimpeded.
Meanwhile, in another location…
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
A mass of black mist coalesced, forming into a group of Deathblade Clan members—some in the shapes of exotic beasts, others in humanoid forms. At their head stood the black-clad maiden.
“Your Majesty, these intruders are formidable.”
“Alone, we cannot stop them!”
They all turned their gazes toward the black-clad maiden.
Her dark claws twirled idly as a cold glint flashed in her eyes. With an indifferent tone, she said, “The intruders have surpassed our ability to resist. All of you, retreat. Remember—avoid them. Do not throw your lives away needlessly. Our losses are already great enough. I will report this matter to the higher-ups and let the Elders deal with the headache.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.” All her subordinates bowed their heads in reverence.
The black-clad maiden then dissolved into black mist, vanishing without a trace in an instant.
Her followers, too, dispersed into dark tendrils, sinking into the earth.
The floating island was their birthplace—here, they held absolute dominance, striking and retreating as they pleased.
—
At the heart of the floating island stood a hollowed-out mountain, its interior carved into crude halls. For the Deathblade Clan, constructing such chambers was already an impressive feat. The weaker members of their kind possessed intelligence little better than wild beasts, while only the elite warriors exhibited slightly higher intellect. Even the highest echelons of their leadership paled in comparison to the wisdom of cultivators or the indigenous race.
An invisible ripple pulsed through the air.
A swirl of black mist materialized before the undulating waves, coalescing into the black-clad maiden, who stood coldly in place.
From the ripples emerged a grotesque, shadowy beast-face, its gaze fixed upon her.
“Queen Fusuo, why have you come to the ancestral grounds?” the monstrous visage rumbled.
“I bear urgent news for the Emperor! Relay my message at once,” the black-clad maiden snapped, her tone brooking no argument.
“News for the Emperor?!” The beast-face recoiled in shock. “Queen Fusuo, you dare disturb His Majesty?”
“Do you think I would lie about such a matter?” she hissed. “Stop wasting time. Move!”
The beast-face hesitated briefly. Though the Deathblade Clan of the ancestral lands looked down upon their outer kin, none would dare deceive the Emperor.
Whoosh.
The rippling waves parted, revealing a passage.
“Proceed to the Elder Hall and wait,” a massive, crimson-headed beast with an obsidian body growled from the side.
“Hmph.” The black-clad maiden ignored the guard, striding swiftly toward the Elder Hall.
The mountain spanned vast distances—it was the most crucial core of the entire floating island.
Without straying, she arrived directly at the Elder Hall.
The Elder Hall…
A dim, cavernous chamber loomed before her. At its apex sat three thrones, while the center of the crude hall housed an enormous black pool. Within its inky depths grew a twisted, otherworldly tree, its branches bearing two translucent fruits. Through their thin skins, countless swirling lights could be seen.
The tree stood over a hundred feet tall, its crown adorned with a single, eerie gray eye.
An oppressive aura radiated from the eye, casting a heavy silence over the hall.
“Queen Fusuo, you must wait,” two guards at the entrance intoned coldly.
With a disdainful snort, the black-clad maiden stood her ground, waiting impatiently.
Were it not for the overwhelming strength of the intruders, she would never have deigned to visit the ancestral grounds. The threat they posed was severe enough to warrant the clan’s full alert. Failure to report such news would bring dire consequences.
“Queen Fusuo, what matter could possibly require the Emperor’s attention?” A lanky figure strode in, his elongated tail dragging across the floor. “You know full well how enraged His Majesty and the Elders become when roused from slumber. Unless your news is of utmost importance, you may face punishment.”
“King Qidu, intruders have been spotted in my domain,” the black-clad maiden replied icily. “They consist of a native force allied with three cultivators from the Heartcontinent. The leader of the natives rivals my strength, while one of the cultivators surpasses me—at least at the peak of King-rank.”
“Oh?” The lanky man arched a brow. “Intruders from the Heartcontinent? A peak King-rank?”
Cultivators from the Heartcontinent were rare.
Though the Heartcontinent’s Cosmic Gods occasionally ventured into the depths of the Broken Tooth Mountains with their avatars, the range was vast. This floating island had encountered few such intruders in its history, and a “peak King-rank” had only appeared once before.
Far more common were clashes with the indigenous race.
“Now that you understand the threat, report it immediately,” the black-clad maiden pressed.
“No need for haste. Whether awakening an Elder or the Emperor, this is no trivial matter. I must confer with the other Kings,” the lanky man said dismissively.
“More delays?” she snapped. “By the time you finish deliberating, the intruders will be upon us!”
The lanky man merely smirked.
An outsider “Queen” like her had no right to question the ancestral clan’s procedures.
The ancestral lands ruled the floating island.
“Hmph.” The black-clad maiden scowled. “I have delivered my warning. If disaster strikes, the Emperor’s wrath will not fall upon me.”
“Rest easy,” the lanky man said, already communicating telepathically with the other Kings.
After lengthy discussions—
A full incense-time later.
“After deliberation, we have decided that an intruder at peak King-rank—likely an invincible expert by Heartcontinent standards—warrants awakening the Second and Third Elders. The First Elder and the Emperor shall remain undisturbed,” the lanky man announced.
“The enemy may still be hiding their true strength,” the black-clad maiden argued.
“Ha! Are we not Kings ourselves? We were born from the deaths of Primordial Lifeforms, just as those indigenous mongrels carry diluted Primordial blood,” the lanky man sneered. “Compared to our two races, cultivators are weak. And this is our floating island—we hold every advantage. They are no match for us.”
“Cultivators ascend from weakness through sheer skill. Their mastery of power is profound. At the very least, the First Elder should be awakened.”
“Two Elders, both at peak King-rank, plus our host of Kings… If we cannot stop them, we can always awaken the First Elder later.”
The lanky man chuckled. “Wait here. I shall rouse the Elders.”
Just as he stepped out of the Elder Hall—
A figure rushed in frantically.
“Quickly! Intruders have breached the outer perimeter! They move with terrifying speed and will soon reach the ancestral lands!” A horned man cloaked in black roared. As one of the Kings stationed at the outermost defenses, his alarm was dire. “One of the Heartcontinent cultivators is overwhelmingly powerful—peak King-rank, on par with an Elder!”
“What? So soon?” The lanky man paled.
Inside the hall, the black-clad maiden scoffed. “King Qidu, I warned you to act swiftly. Now they are at our doorstep!”
Without another word, the lanky King Qidu dissolved into black mist, streaking toward the Elders’ resting place.
Deep within the mountain’s bowels…
A vast pool of emerald-green liquid sprawled before him, its surface barely concealing a colossal, shadowy figure.
Three smaller pools branched from the main one, each cradling a slumbering form.
“Second Elder. Third Elder.”
King Qidu’s voice resonated through the chamber as ripples of energy seeped into two of the smaller pools.
Slowly, the waters stirred.
Two figures opened their eyes.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
Transforming into black mist, they reappeared beside King Qidu.
“Why have you awakened us?” the Elders demanded.
Bowing slightly, King Qidu replied, “Intruders approach—a native force allied with three Heartcontinent cultivators. Among them is a swordsman of peak King-rank. Given their profound mastery, we may hold our own but cannot guarantee their suppression.”
—
Meanwhile…
Dongbo Xueying and his two companions, alongside the indigenous team, had just annihilated an ambushing Deathblade squad. Unaware of their true strength, the attackers were swiftly dispatched—five slain outright by the Swordmaster, twelve dispersed into mist, and the rest fleeing in terror.
“We move quickly. Many among the Deathblade Clan remain unaware of our strength,” the native leader, Prince Yanhui, transmitted urgently. “Press onward—their ancestral heartland is near. Once there, seize what you seek immediately. Then we retreat without delay.”
“Understood.”
Anticipation surged within Dongbo Xueying. The core of the Deathblade Clan… They were almost there.
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