The Pursuit

The bandaged elder used the Earth Escape Technique to tunnel rapidly through the muddy underground.

Although he had hidden well just moments ago, the destruction of the altar had still affected him. His inner energy was in disarray, and his internal organs throbbed with pain.

But he had no time to worry about his injuries. He rushed toward the underground palace at the fastest speed possible.

He had to inform the Grand Elder immediately and relocate their operations.

The entrance to the underground palace was hidden beneath the ancient roots of a thousand-year-old banyan tree. Without knowledge of the secret mechanism, one could dig a hundred feet and still never find it.

The elder sped through the earth, burning through his inner power. After tunneling for over ten minutes, he finally neared the palace.

He flicked three bone talismans from his fingers. The banyan’s roots parted slowly, as if alive, revealing a pitch-black tunnel.

As he crawled inside, the earth behind him surged violently and quickly sealed the passage shut.

Thud!

His strength depleted, the elder collapsed on the palace’s stone floor, gasping for breath from the heavy loss of inner power.

“Protector? What happened to you?!”

A cultist guarding the palace turned pale and rushed forward to help him up.

These cultists all had bloodless faces, sunken eyes, and wore black robes reeking of rot and decay.

“Hurry… report to the Grand Elder…”
The elder clutched the cultist’s wrist with a death grip, his fingers nearly piercing the skin.
“That supreme powerhouse… he’s already here!”

The cultists were shocked to their core. Without hesitation, a few turned and ran to deliver the message.

Soon, the news spread through the underground palace like a plague.

The massive palace, built from the bones of ten thousand corpses, was thrown into a chaotic uproar.

The corpse oil lamps lining the walls flickered wildly, casting twisted shadows on the grotesque bone-carved reliefs --- it looked like a hellish dance of demons.

In the deepest chamber of the palace --- the sacred sanctuary --- the Grand Elder of the Bone Cult sat cross-legged atop the Bone Throne. He resembled a dried husk, with skin tightly clinging to his skull, but his eyes glowed with a ghostly green light.

Upon hearing the report, his shriveled fingers clenched the throne’s armrest, causing the embedded skulls to emit sharp, piercing screams.

“Useless trash!”

The Grand Elder’s voice was like stones grinding together.

“The three enforcers couldn’t even stop a single brat?!”

The bandaged elder knelt on the floor, not daring to lift his head.

“That man is no ordinary expert. He’s a Landed Celestial. Wherever his golden light touches, flesh disintegrates. Even Bloodhand’s Blood River Formation couldn’t withstand it!”

“Landed Celestial?!”

The Grand Elder’s face changed dramatically.

“Wasn’t he still busy dealing with the corpse plague? How did he arrive so quickly?!”

“The imperial dogs already discovered this location. I dealt with them silently, but it must have drawn his attention. That’s why he followed the trail here,” the bandaged elder explained.

“What a disaster…”

The Grand Elder suddenly rose, black mist surging from his body --- towering several meters high. Within the mist, countless anguished souls writhed and howled.

“Activate the Blood Fiend Formation! Have the Twelve Venerables withdraw with me!”

At his command, the sound of heavy mechanisms echoed from deep within the palace.

Twelve shadowy figures emerged from the walls flanking the sanctuary. They wore bone-inlaid armor and carried all sorts of bone-crafted weapons. Every step they took stirred a faint mist of blood.

These were the Bone Cult’s most elite warriors --- the Twelve Venerables.

Each was a Grandmaster, and together, they could rival an Ultimate Grandmaster.

They were the culmination of the cult’s years of preparation --- its hope of rising again.

No matter what, the Twelve Venerables could not fall here.

“Grand Elder, this underground palace is our cult’s foundation of a hundred years. Are we truly abandoning it so easily?”
The first Venerable on the left couldn’t help but ask. His bone flute dripped with dark red liquid.

The Grand Elder cast him a cold glance.

“If the green hills remain, we needn’t fear the lack of firewood. That man destroyed our altar and killed our enforcers. This grudge will never be forgotten! Once we regroup with the Holy Son, we will rise again!”

The Twelve Venerables said no more and bowed in unison.

The bandaged elder struggled to follow, but the Grand Elder kicked him to the ground.

“You worthless cripple. Keeping you around is just dead weight.”

Before the words even faded, a bone needle shot from the Grand Elder’s fingertip, striking the elder squarely in the back.

The elder’s eyes widened. His throat gurgled, and his body shriveled at a terrifying speed, collapsing into nothing but a sheet of skin on the ground.

“Open the secret passage!”

The Grand Elder picked up the human skin and pressed it onto the bone altar in the sanctuary’s center.

The altar shuddered violently. The floor split open, revealing a wide chasm and a staircase descending into darkness.

The Twelve Venerables filed in one after another. The Grand Elder stepped in last.

Just as he was about to vanish into the crevice, the entire underground palace began to shake violently.

“Not good! He’s already here!”
The Grand Elder’s face turned grim as a powerful sense of danger flooded his heart. - Ton

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