Chapter 14

Sect Master Milgor, unaware of his sworn brother's mounting concerns, spoke with a touch of weariness in his voice.

"Setting that aside, the alliance is scheduled to convene a week from now. I can't shake the feeling that they won't extend us a warm welcome."

"They'll likely find a way to pin the blame on us. If Elder Jin's account holds true, they might argue that he never contributed anything substantial, conveniently forgetting the wisdom behind his choices," Master Lou chimed in, his fingers reaching for his tea cup.

"Indeed, I'm not casting blame on him. But given the current circumstances, they might resurrect that discussion. However, they won't be eager to overlook their own elder's misjudgments either. On the other hand, there will be representatives from several Supreme Martial Domains attending, and they could back us up," Sect Master Milgor replied, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"The whole situation is a nuisance. If only The Fourth were still alive, we could leave matters be… those ungrateful ingrates!" Master Lou's grip tightened on his tea cup, causing it to crack, yet miraculously, its contents remained contained.

"And The Fifth as well, if only he had managed to survive…" He sighed heavily, a mixture of exasperation and longing evident in his gaze.

A mere fourteen days ago, an enigmatic Spirit Beast, its exact species a mystery, broke free from the formidable Eight Sealing Dome Formation. Reports indicated that the creature's strength stood at, at least, the level of a Middle 1st Tier Beast Emperor. This clash was against none other than the Fourth Supreme, renowned as 'The Berserker'—Fred Bleine. To put it into perspective, a Middle 1st Tier Beast Emperor was the equivalent of a 3rd Level Venerable cultivator.

The fact that the Beast Emperor emerged victorious in its confrontation with the Fourth Supreme raised alarm bells. The danger it represented could disrupt the delicate power balance that had been maintained across the continent for generations, drawing the attention of malevolent forces with sinister intentions.

The imperative lay in locating this elusive Spirit Beast swiftly—either subduing it or, in the worst-case scenario, neutralizing it. The Guardian Alliance, entrusted with safeguarding Pandora Island, shouldered a monumental responsibility. The peril lurking within the island's depths had already triggered the Nether Calamity a century prior, reducing once-thriving sects to wastelands.

Curiously, the danger that the Guardian Alliance sought to evade was simultaneously an object of desire. The dichotomy underscored the complexity of their role.

***

The sun hung high in a sky painted azure, casting a serene ambiance over the surroundings. A gentle breeze danced, causing the robes of two figures to flutter as they approached another pair suspended mid-air in conversation.

"Isn't his Spirit Art one of the sect's treasured secrets?"

"Rumors suggest otherwise. Apparently, it's a forgotten manual relegated to the Archive as worthless. Who could have foreseen its potency?"

"I see…"

"During the comprehension test for Inner Sect admission, he happened to draw it."

"A stroke of heavenly fortune, indeed."

"Yet, attaining the Grand Accomplishment Stage remains a challenge. Our diligence must redouble."

"Absolutely, your sentiments ring true."

Meanwhile, two youthful men drew near, their robes billowing gracefully.

"Good day, Brother Ivan, Brother Lemar," Hun greeted politely.

"Greetings, Brother Ivan, Brother Lemar," Jurik followed suit, addressing them individually.

"I'm not your brother, you scoundrel. Brother Ivan, let's proceed," one of them retorted curtly, prompting Jurik to emit a resigned sigh.

Hun observed the exchange with curiosity, sensing an underlying tension between the two.

"The view from here is truly splendid," Jurik commented, deftly steering the conversation to lighter matters. Hun smiled in response.

"Is it true that Beast Kings reside on this island?" Hun's gaze drifted toward the land they were tasked with guarding.

Pondering the question, Jurik shifted his attention toward the massive dome—an imposing barrier that encompassed land, air, and water, forming the boundaries of the vast island. He hadn't encountered a Beast King firsthand, and the idea intrigued him.

"Once, they did. However, their current status remains uncertain. Some say several Beast Emperors dwell here," Jurik explained, contemplating the barrier's shimmering surface.

"Beast Emperors? Can that really be?" Hun's voice reflected a mixture of fascination and disbelief.

Jurik reminisced about a time when a certain Beast King's escape had been thwarted. He hadn't witnessed the event personally, being just an outer disciple at the time, incapable of contributing to the creature's capture. The Guardian Alliance and the Black Dragon Sect had jointly subdued the threat, offering the crucial Soul Beast Collar that had prevented the Supreme Sect from acquiring the creature.

Regret lingered in Jurik's heart—had that Beast King come under their control, their sect's strength would have soared.

"Elders speak of around ten Beast Kings that once inhabited Pandora Island. Curiously, they never sought to escape. There were instances where they assisted cultivators, striking bargains to preserve the island's tranquility for a century…"

"Until fifty years ago, when they turned against each other," Hun concluded, filling in the narrative.

Recalling his father's tale, he continued, "My father was among those aided by the Beast Emperors. Were it not for their intervention, I wouldn't stand here today." A sigh escaped him as he remembered his father's expression upon hearing of the calamity. "My father desired to convey his gratitude to them, but fate intervened too soon."

"Let's steer clear of somber subjects," Hun suggested, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Speaking of matters of the heart, I've heard whispers of another contender vying for Sister Lerie's affections."

Jurik's countenance shifted, an expression of mild irritation replacing his prior melancholy.

"Oh, not again," he groaned, appearing as though he had endured this conversation countless times before.

"Hahaha, you're quite the topic of conversation, my friend," Hun remarked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Let's divert our minds from these somber topics," Hun suggested with a bright smile, revealing his white teeth. "Speaking of Sister Lerie, I've heard whispers of another suitor making his advances."

"Hah… I thought we agreed not to dwell on these depressing matters," Jurik responded, his eyes conveying a mixture of fatigue and plea, as if he had been subjected to this line of inquiry countless times.

"Hahaha… No luck for you then, huh?" Hun teased.

"It's... complicated." Jurik's gaze drifted downward, settling on the vast expanse of water surrounding the island. Its deep blue depths mirrored the complex emotions swirling within him. Yet, these emotions, these profound feelings, were directed towards a woman he knew he could never attain. She was a star, luminous in the night sky, inspiring nothing but awe and admiration from afar.

A heavy sigh escaped him, carrying the weight of his emotions.

"...unrequited love or one-sided affection?" Hun's persistence continued.

"Isn't it the same thing?" Jurik mused.

"Hmm, perhaps. Well, why not give it a shot? I'll be there to support you," Hun encouraged.

"You should be more concerned about your own matters," Jurik replied, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I don't have any," Hun stated matter-of-factly, his response resolute and accompanied by a chuckle from Jurik.

Hun's dense nature had earned him the moniker of the 'apathetic prince'. Even Jurik had his doubts about whether Hun would ever find love, let alone a bride.

Suddenly, a dark figure emerged near the transparent barrier—not from the outside, but from within. A corner of their eyes caught the movement.

"Who are you?!" a startled disciple from the other side shouted. The figure slipped eerily through their respective boundaries.

A man.

With bare feet, clad in ragged attire—shirt, pants, and a cloak reminiscent of commoners—and a bizarre mask concealing his face.

Jurik observed a grin on the man's face and instinctively yelled, "Stay back!"

Two disciples, approaching the man for a closer look, heard the warning but...

"Boom!"

...it was too late.

The force of the impact sent the two disciples tumbling, struggling to maintain their balance in mid-air. Fortunately, the barrier separated them, averting even greater harm. Yet, the shockwave left them bloodied and disoriented, with a trail of crimson seeping from their ears as they struggled to recover.

Jurik witnessed this scene in stunned disbelief, while Hun, also affected by the shockwave, stood frozen. The wave-like ripples in the air, visible to the eye, induced a shiver of fear.

Drawing closer, Jurik and Hun rushed to the aid of the injured disciples.

"Retreat!" was the unanimous decision, echoed by those at a distance who could feel the vibrations.

This sphere-like island, stretching a thousand kilometers in radius, was a topic of debate—whether a natural formation or the result of human endeavor. Nonetheless, its peculiar structure facilitated pinpointing the source of the tremors.

"Activate the Tortoise Array!" an on-site disciple urgently commanded, finally steadying the nerves of those present.

Those assigned to this duty had undergone rigorous training in the array's activation. It was essential, for any mistake could lead to disastrous consequences. Two disciples, positioned at each of the eight cardinal directions, acted as nodes for the formation.

Gradually, scales began to materialize on the expansive dome enveloping the island. As the scales appeared, the man in question became shrouded as well. Just before disappearing from view, Jurik caught a glimpse of his smirking countenance, sparking an ominous premonition.

"Return to the islands!" another disciple cried urgently, prompting others to hasten their retreat.

And then...

"Boom!"

The shockwave reverberated through the air, causing even the waters to churn.

...

Throughout the corridors, the sounds of hurried footsteps resounded. Pallor gripped every face, some trembling, others sweating, all concealing their fear and anxiety.

"Boom!" the thunderous sound struck once more. Panic seized the populace, rendering them incapable of fulfilling their duties.

"Hurry!"

The white-robed man barked orders, arms outstretched as he poured his energy into a massive pillar. Stern determination painted his expression, his focus fixated on the towering black monolith before him. A throng of men and women gathered, each bearing peculiar rings as they produced mountains of stones.

Another group appeared, their arms outstretched, their bodies beginning to emit a subtle light—some radiating red, others yellow, and still others orange. The scene unfolded spectacularly, these individuals aglow in an otherworldly manner, as if celestial beings were descending to offer their devotion.

"BOOM!"

Simultaneously, on eight islands, people converged, pouring forth every ounce of their energy. The cost was inconsequential; the world teetered on the brink of chaos. Some expended their energy, while others depleted their stores of spiritual stones and treasures, all to reinforce the barrier encasing the heart of the island—the Pandora Island.

"Just a bit more."

The man raised his fist once more, his strikes against the barrier relentless. The trees swayed, the ground trembled, and all living beings within the radiant golden dome recoiled. Each blow carried immense power, causing animals to faint or perish under the crushing pressure. The grasses undulated, and a vast crater formed beneath him, inch by inch, as the surrounding vegetation withered.

"Gah!"

"Ugh!"

"Urk!"

Several men succumbed to internal injuries as they struggled to absorb the barrier's impact. An elderly man offered them pills, cupping his hands in respectful offering, before they resumed their efforts.