Chapter 86 - The Plan Continues! Second group

The remnants of the imperial palace loomed around them, a graveyard of forgotten grandeur. The air was thick with the smell of dust and decay, mingling with the faint metallic tang of old blood. In the center of the ruins stood a crude sundial, its shadow creeping slowly as time ticked forward. The group gathered nearby, their eyes darting between the sundial and the shattered horizon.

Adam stood at the edge of the group, his fingers lightly brushing the surface of the teleportation orb tucked in his belt. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but his chest felt tight, as though an invisible hand were pressing down on him. His thoughts were a whirlwind of doubts and calculations. The what-ifs clawed at his mind, threatening to pull him under. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, grounding himself in the faint sting.

His eyes swept over the others, each absorbed in their own thoughts, yet the tension in the air was palpable, almost suffocating. Adam’s heart clenched when his gaze landed on Emir. The boy was trembling, his hands gripping the hem of his tunic as if holding on for dear life. Adam wanted to say something, to reassure him, but his throat felt dry, the words sticking like thorns.

“How am I supposed to calm him down when I can barely keep it together myself?”

The thought filled him with a heavy guilt that weighed down his already burdened shoulders.

Drake’s restless pacing filled the silence, the crunch of his boots against the debris echoing through the ruins. He stopped occasionally to glance at Adam, his expression a mix of determination and concern.

“We’ll get through this.”

Drake muttered, mostly to himself, but the words carried a weight that hung in the air.

Li stood apart, his hand resting on his already summoned spellbook. His face was a mask of stoicism, but Adam noticed the subtle twitch in his jaw, the way his fingers occasionally tightened around the weapon’s grip. Li was a veteran who had faced many more battles, yet even he seemed uneasy. Adam couldn’t decide whether that was comforting or terrifying.

Nikolai, as always, was silent, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. His posture was rigid, his arms crossed, but the faintest tremor in his fingers betrayed his tension. Every so often, he adjusted the straps of his gear, more out of habit than necessity. His quiet presence was both reassuring and unnerving; Nikolai was always the one who prepared for the worst.

Abbess, in stark contrast to everyone else, radiated an eerie calm. She stood behind Adam, her eyes closed, her hands clasped behind her back, as though she were meditating. Her tranquility was almost unnatural, and Adam found himself both irritated and envious. How can she just… stand there like nothing’s happening? He wondered, though he already knew the answer. Abbess wasn’t like the rest of them. She was an undead, her existence tethered to a different set of rules. Still, her presence had a gravity that was impossible to ignore.

Even now, with some time passed since they met as allies, Adam couldn’t help but feel a deep, instinctual unease whenever she was near. It wasn’t just the way she moved—silent, deliberate, almost predatory—but the memories that came with her presence. The blood, the pain, of what she had done to him. His body reacted before his mind could stop it, a shiver running down his spine when she shifted slightly.

Abbess seemed to sense his discomfort, keeping a deliberate distance from him, though she never strayed far. If she was aware of his lingering fear, she didn’t show it. Her expression remained impassive, and her focus was unwavering. Despite everything, Adam couldn’t deny how much stronger their group had become with her. The others had quickly come to rely on her, even celebrate her presence. But for him it was different.

The sundial’s shadow reached its mark. Adam’s pulse quickened as he pulled the orb from his belt, its surface cool and smooth against his clammy palm. He took a deep breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

“Alright, It’s time.”

He said, his voice barely steady. The group huddled closer, their faces illuminated by the faint glow beginning to emanate from the orb. Adam concentrated, channeling his focus into the artifact. The hum started low, a vibration that seemed to crawl up his arm, growing louder with each passing second. Sparks danced across its surface, tiny bursts of energy that crackled and fizzed in the tense air.

A blinding flash enveloped them, the ruins of the palace dissolving into a cascade of light and sound. For an instant, Adam felt weightless, as though suspended in a void where time and space had no meaning. The pressure in his chest eased, replaced by an almost eerie calm.

And then, in an instant, they were gone. The ruins stood silent and empty, the faint shimmer of residual energy the only sign that they had ever been there.

The ruins were gone. Instead, they stood in the middle of an opulent room, grand and imposing, yet serene in its design. The space was vast, its high ceiling supported by intricately carved wooden beams adorned with gold inlays. The scent of polished wood and faint incense lingered in the air. Along the walls were lacquered cabinets and shelves displaying ornate vases, scrolls, and delicate figurines. A large desk dominated one side of the room, its surface immaculate except for a single, carefully arranged ink set. The room was filled with rich, warm hues, punctuated by intricate tapestries and silk curtains embroidered with elegant patterns. Every detail spoke of wealth, power, and refinement.

Standing at the far end of the room was a man they immediately recognized: Shu Rong. His presence was commanding, though not ostentatious. His sharp eyes swept over the group as they materialized, and without wasting time, he spoke in a calm but firm tone.

“For now, everything is fine.”

Shu said, his voice steady and measured.

“Lord Varek left the palace just moments ago. That gives us some time, but not much. You must move quickly. We will head to the fifth level of the palace and wait there to meet with Master Park Zhen.”

The group exchanged brief glances, silently acknowledging his instructions.

“We understand.”

Adam said, nodding as he tried to steady his nerves. Shu gestured toward a cabinet, opening it to reveal ceremonial cloaks of fine silk, dyed in deep, muted colors.

“We are in luck, there is a festivity now we can take advantage of, you’ll need these to pass unnoticed, they’ll mark you as servants. Wear them, and stay silent.”

Shu explained. One by one, they donned the cloaks, the fabric cool and smooth against their skin. The hoods provided ample cover, casting their faces in shadow. Abbess adjusted hers with an air of indifference, while Adam felt the unfamiliar texture weigh on his shoulders.

“Follow me.”

Shu ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. He led them out of the room and into the corridors of the palace.

The interior of the palace was a masterpiece. The floors were polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the grand chandeliers above, which cast a warm, golden glow. Walls were decorated with intricate murals depicting mythical battles and serene landscapes. Sliding doors made of paper-thin screens were trimmed with gilded wood, and the air was filled with the faint hum of distant activity.

The group moved silently, their footsteps muffled by the plush rugs that lined the halls. Occasionally, they passed guards and staff, all of whom exuded an aura of strength and discipline. The guards’ uniforms were immaculate, their movements precise and purposeful. Even the servants carried themselves with an air of quiet efficiency, their presence almost imperceptible unless closely observed.

Adam’s pulse quickened whenever they passed a group of martial artists. Their sheer presence was intimidating—muscles coiled like steel cables, eyes sharp and alert, movements fluid and controlled, all of them possibly hard to defeat.

The group reached the stairway leading to the fourth floor when a voice called out.

“Shu Rong!”

They turned to see a man approaching—a tall, imposing figure with a confident stride. He was dressed in a martial artist’s robe adorned with a golden dragon motif, and his long hair was tied back in a high knot. His sharp features and piercing eyes made him seem both regal and dangerous.

“Chao Wu…”

Shu muttered under his breath. Chao’s expression was amicable as he closed the distance.

“Shu, it’s been some time. What brings you here? … ehm… why are you guiding new staff? Isn’t that beneath a first disciple of Don Park Zhen?”

Shu inclined his head slightly, maintaining his composure.

“These are orders from my master. I’m ensuring they reach their assignments without issue.”

Chao raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to the cloaked figures behind Shu.

“Odd. It’s not like your master to waste your talents on such tasks.”

His tone grew sharp as he addressed the group.

“You’re dishonoring Don Park Zhen by making his disciple escort you like this. Who are you to demand such treatment?”

The group remained silent, each one focusing on their breathing, trying not to betray their unease. Chao’s expression darkened at their lack of response, and he stepped forward, his hand lifting to strike.

Before the blow could land, Abbess moved. Her hand shot out, catching Chao’s wrist with a grip like iron. Slowly, she lowered her hood, revealing her face.

Chao’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled back, nearly losing his balance.

“Don Abbess Xinhui…”

He stammered, dropping to his knees.

“Forgive me. I didn’t know.”

Abbess’s expression was cold and unyielding. Her voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Chao Wu, you forget yourself. Questioning my presence here is not your place. Do you doubt my authority, or have you forgotten the hierarchy of this world?”

“N-No, of course not!”

Chao stammered, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the floor.

“Then remember your place, I will let this slide because you are the first disciple of Don Sung Ja-In.”

Abbess said, her tone brooking no argument.

“You will leave now and speak of this to no one. Do not make me repeat myself.”

Chao scrambled to his feet, bowing repeatedly as he backed away.

“Y-Yes, Don. At once.”

As Chao disappeared down the hall, Shu exhaled sharply.

“This complicates things, there are survivors from the Shaolin Temple in the palace. If word of this reaches them, it could be disastrous.”

He said, his voice tight and turning to Abbess.

“I’ll go after him. Don Abbess Xinhui, with all due respect, please guide the group to the fifth level.”

The woman tilted her head slightly.

“I have vague memories of this place, but don’t worry. We won’t get lost.”

Shu hesitated, clearly uncertain, but he knew the situation demanded urgency.

“Very well, good luck.”

And with that, he turned and disappeared down the corridor.

Abbess stepped to the front of the group, her movements confident and deliberate.

“Follow me.”

She said simply. The group exchanged uneasy glances before falling into step behind her, their journey to the fifth floor now in her hands.

———

The air in the vast garden-like chamber was still, as if the space itself held its breath. The fifth floor of the palace was unlike anything else within its walls—a massive indoor garden with lush grass spreading across the ground, interspersed with delicate plants and stone pathways. Overhead, the ceiling gave the illusion of open skies, with soft, magical lights mimicking stars and clouds. The atmosphere was serene, yet heavy, as if the chamber bore the weight of unspoken secrets.

Standing at the center of this surreal environment was Sung Ja-In, his tall frame rigid and imposing. His blonde hair, styled sharply upwards like a bristle brush, reflected the ambient light. His piercing eyes stared at nothing in particular, and his expression remained calm, though his sharp features hinted at the discipline and resolve of a man who had seen countless battles. His gray robe, resembling a trench coat more than traditional attire, swayed faintly as a cool breeze whispered through the space.

The silence was profound until a slow, deliberate sound of footsteps echoed through the garden. Sung’s sharp gaze flicked toward the source, his posture unmoving. Emerging from the shadows at the edge of the room was Park Zhen, his steps unhurried, his presence like a predator savoring the hunt. His dark hair was slicked back, and his elegant robes flowed as he moved, exuding an air of both regality and menace. A faint, practiced smile rested on his lips, but his eyes gleamed with a calculated sharpness.

“Sung Ja-In.”

Park Zhen greeted, his voice smooth and composed.

“What a picturesque setting for such a grim moment in our history. It’s almost poetic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sung inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the arrival of his fellow Don.

“Park Zhen, you’re late.”

He replied, his tone measured and polite. Park Zhen chuckled softly, his false smile widening.

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“Forgive me. I had to ensure everything was in order below. I assume you’ve heard about Bai Huolong and Abbess Xinhui.”

Sung’s expression didn’t change, but a faint flicker crossed his eyes.

“I have. Tragic losses, though inevitable. Lord Varek’s vision demands sacrifice.”

Park tilted his head, his smile unwavering.

“Indeed, sacrifice is the cornerstone of progress. Still, don’t you find it peculiar how easily they fell? Abbess Xinhui, especially. She was said to be nearly indomitable.”

Sung crossed his arms, his voice steady.

“The path we walk leaves no room for weakness. If they fell, it was because they were no longer aligned with Lord Varek’s will. Their fates are no longer of concern.”

Park observed Sung carefully, the smile never leaving his face.

“And you? How do you feel about all this? The crumbling of our order, the constant battles, the rising resistance...”

Sung’s lips tightened slightly, but he maintained his composure.

“My feelings are irrelevant. What matters is fulfilling Lord Varek’s vision, no matter the cost.”

A faint sigh escaped Park’s lips as he took a step closer.

“Ah, ever the dutiful one. But tell me, Sung, what if Lord Varek himself falters? What if his judgment, too, is flawed?”

Sung’s brows furrowed imperceptibly, but he quickly shook his head.

“Lord Varek does not falter. He left the palace to deal with the invaders personally. Once they are eliminated, our path will be clear.”

Park’s smile grew sharper.

“And yet… what if he suddenly comes back here?”

Sung’s eyes narrowed.

“Coming back here without finishing the otherworlders? Why would he do such a thing?”

“I told you.”

Park replied, his voice dropping to a more sinister tone.

“In the end, Lord Varek is also human. He can make mistakes. What if someone he wants to kill appears? He might come back.”

Sung stiffened, his gaze fixed on Park Zhen.

“Who does he want to kill?”

The smile on Park’s face twisted into something darker, something predatory.

“For example... a traitor.”

Before Sung could react, Park moved with inhuman speed. His hand darted forward, a single finger piercing Sung’s chest with pinpoint precision. The sharp pain was immediate, and Sung’s eyes widened in shock as he stumbled backward.

For a moment, their eyes met. Sung’s were filled with disbelief and fury, while Park Zhen’s retained their false geniality, though now tinged with a sinister satisfaction. Sung felt the violent surge of energy within him as his main meridian shattered under the other man’s strike. A cry of rage escaped his lips, echoing through the garden.

Park, unfazed by the outburst, calmly reached into his robe and pulled out a small sphere. He held it between his fingers, the light from it reflecting eerily against his face.

“Catch.”

He said softly, tossing it toward Sung. He instinctively caught the sphere, but before he could comprehend its purpose, it activated. A swirling light engulfed him, and he felt the ground beneath his feet vanish. Park Zhen stepped back, watching with mild amusement as the teleportation orb took effect.

As the light consumed him, Sung’s final sight was Park’s dark, mocking smile. Then, with a brilliant flash, he was gone.

The air grew heavy as the second group arrived. Their approach was subtle, almost ghostly, as they materialized in the chamber, led by Abbess. She moved with a precision and grace that betrayed no emotion, her figure cloaked beneath the heavy mantle that shrouded her identity. The others followed closely behind her, their presence muffled as though they dared not disturb the tense stillness that filled the strange, grass-covered room.

Park Zhen turned to greet them, his movements smooth and deliberate. His face maintained its usual mask of polite charm, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes—a sharpness that suggested he was weighing every possible outcome even as he spoke.

"Ah, there you are."

He began, his voice calm, almost casual, but laced with an undercurrent of urgency.

"Everything is proceeding as planned. In just a few minutes, Lord Varek will appear here, exactly as intended. We must stay focused and adhere to the plan. No distractions."

Nikolai, one of the more visibly anxious members of the group, stepped forward. His movements were hesitant, his hands fidgeting nervously as he scanned the open space around them.

"Park Zhen, where are we supposed to hide? This place... it’s completely open. There’s nowhere to conceal ourselves. The plan required us to hide, how are we supposed to wait until his guard is down?"

He said, his voice low but strained with worry. Park Zhen’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a faint edge to his tone as he replied.

"You are already hidden."

He said, gesturing to their cloaks.

"These mantles are sufficient. Stay behind me, and do not move until I give the signal. When the time comes, run toward me. The teleportation sphere will handle the rest."

Nikolai opened his mouth to argue, his anxiety clearly outweighing his trust in Park Zhen’s plan, but Li interrupted him sharply.

"We don’t have time for this, just do as he says."

He snapped, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Nikolai hesitated but ultimately fell back into line with the others. The group arranged themselves behind the Don, their breaths quick and shallow as they tried to steady themselves. The chamber felt oppressively silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on them like a physical force.

Then, without warning, a deafening crash shattered the stillness.

The ceiling above them exploded in a shower of debris, massive chunks of stone and metal raining down. Yet none of the falling rubble seemed to reach the group, as though an invisible barrier protected them. A tremendous force descended from the sky, striking the ground with enough power to shake the entire palace. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the earth, causing the grass to bend and the air to vibrate with an almost electric tension.

As the dust settled, a figure stood in the crater that had formed at the point of impact. Lord Varek.

He was a towering presence, his figure exuding an aura of raw power and unrestrained fury. His silver hair shimmered faintly in the dim light, framing a face that was both regal and terrifying. His crimson robes billowed around him, stained with faint traces of battle, and his piercing eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to strip away any illusion of safety.

"Park Zhen!"

His voice roared through the chamber, deep and resonant, carrying a mixture of rage, betrayal, and a pain so profound it seemed to hang in the air.

"I saw it all!"

He growled, his tone laced with venom.

"Through Sung Ja-In’s ingrained observation skill, I saw everything! Why? Why would you do this? Why betray us like this?"

The room seemed to tremble under the weight of his fury. An oppressive wave of Ki radiated from him, suffocating and almost tangible in its intensity. The grass beneath his feet withered, and the air grew heavy, making it difficult for anyone to breathe. Even Park Zhen, whose calm demeanor rarely wavered, felt a bead of sweat trail down his temple. Still, his ever-present smile remained intact, a testament to his unshakable facade.

Lord Varek’s eyes narrowed, his rage unquenched.

"No, it doesn’t matter why you did this."

He snarled, raising his right hand. Energy began to swirl around it, a crimson vortex that crackled and hissed with lethal intent.

"You’ll die for it all the same."

As he prepared to strike, his arm was suddenly halted mid-motion. A pale hand gripped his wrist tightly, its strength undeniable.

Lord Varek turned his head sharply, his fury redirected toward the one who had dared to stop him. His gaze landed on Abbess Xinhui, her hood thrown back by the force of her movement, revealing her face.

He froze, his expression shifting from anger to disbelief.

"Xinhui…?"

He whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackling energy surrounding them. His mind reeled. She was supposed to be dead. The observation skill linked to her had been severed, and every other trace of her existence had vanished. Yet here she stood, alive and standing with Park Zhen.

"Why...?"

His voice cracked, the weight of his confusion and betrayal evident.

That moment of hesitation was all Park Zhen needed. His smile widened ever so slightly as he activated the [Interdimensional Containment Cube]. The artifact, a small, innocuous-looking device, hummed with power as it emitted a web of crimson energy.

The energy shot out and ensnared Lord Varek, wrapping around him like chains. He roared in defiance, his voice echoing through the chamber as he struggled against the cube’s power.

"No! You dare—!"

But his words were cut off as his body began to dissolve, breaking apart into streams of glowing red light that were drawn into the cube. His final scream of rage and despair lingered in the air even after his form had been fully absorbed.

Park Zhen wasted no time. He turned sharply to the group behind him, his voice sharp and commanding.

"Now!"

The cloaked figures reacted instantly, rushing toward him as he raised the teleportation sphere in his other hand. The device activated with a low hum, its mechanism glowing faintly as it prepared to transport them away.

However, before they could fully escape, the cube in Park Zhen’s hand began to glow ominously. Without warning, it reopened, releasing the red energy it had just captured.

Lord Varek reformed in the same spot, his expression one of unrestrained fury.

"You think you can—"

He started, but his words faltered as his eyes fell upon the cloaked figures gathered behind Park Zhen.

The teleportation sphere activated, and a blinding white light engulfed the group.

But just before the light consumed them entirely, a voice cut through the chaos.

"Lord Varek!"

Park Zhen’s eyes darted upward, catching sight of a figure running toward them at breakneck speed. It was Shen Yue, the son of Jianfeng, his arm outstretched as if to reach them.

The light flared one final time, and the entire group, including Shen, vanished from the chamber, leaving nothing but silence and the faint echo of their departure.

The teleportation was instantaneous. In a blink, the world shifted, and the group found themselves in an entirely different location. Before anyone could properly react, Park Zhen and Abbess moved in unison, their hands flowing through precise and practiced motions. Their martial technique was breathtaking in its efficiency, a blur of synchronized movements that conjured an overwhelming gust of wind. The sheer force of their combined efforts detonated a powerful current of air in the center of the area. The gust surged outward, violently separating Lord Varek and Shen Yue from the rest of the group and forcing them several meters apart. The blast sent dust and debris scattering through the air, adding to the disorienting chaos.

Shen staggered backward, his long white hair catching the wind and flowing wildly around his strikingly handsome face. His pale complexion was a sharp contrast against the dark ruins they now found themselves in. His tall, well-built frame tensed as his grip tightened on his Bo staff, the polished wood glinting faintly in the dim light. His confusion was evident, his sharp eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings. His brows furrowed, and his lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words came immediately. The suddenness of the teleportation, coupled with the explosive separation, had left him momentarily stunned.

Lord Varek’s expression was a storm of anger and frustration as he took in their new surroundings. His dark eyes swept over the ancient, crumbling walls and the faint outlines of shattered pillars around them. The air was thick with an oppressive weight, and the eerie silence of the place made every small sound echo hauntingly. It didn’t take long for Varek to recognize where they were. His eyes narrowed, and his voice came out in a low, menacing growl.

“These are the Imperial Palace ruins.”

He said, his tone laced with incredulity and fury.

“What is the meaning of this? Why are we here?”

Before he could demand further answers, movement from the other side of the space caught his attention. Adam, Drake, Li, Nikolai, and Emir, still wrapped in their cloaks, calmly shed the coverings, revealing their faces and stances. Each of them stood with a mixture of caution and resolve, their eyes fixed on Lord Varek.

The moment Adam’s face came into view, recognition flashed in Varek’s eyes, followed immediately by unrestrained fury. His entire body stiffened, and his voice thundered across the ruins.

“You!”

There was no mistaking the venom in his tone. Varek’s mind reeled as he connected the face in front of him to the chaos that had plagued him before. He remembered Adam from the disaster that led him to believe Abbess had been killed. But now, standing before him, was the very woman he thought lost, alive and unharmed.

His gaze snapped to Abbess, and his voice rose again, harsher and more demanding.

“What is this? How are you alive?”

Abbess didn’t flinch under the intensity of Varek’s questioning. Her expression remained composed, a calm yet unyielding resolve radiating from her every movement. She met his furious gaze with her own, steady and unwavering. Her voice, when she spoke, was even, carrying a weight of inevitability that only seemed to stoke the fires of Varek’s anger.

“This is how things are now.”

Abbess stated plainly, her tone carrying a subtle finality, as if no further explanation was necessary.

Varek’s brow furrowed deeper, confusion mingling with his simmering rage.

“What does that mean?”

He demanded, his voice sharp and biting, cutting through the tension-filled air like a blade. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his Ki flickered faintly, as though feeding off his escalating emotions.

Before Abbess could respond, Shen Yue’s voice broke through.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What is happening here?”

He asked, his tone laced with desperation and disbelief. Yet, Shen Yue’s words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Varek had fixated entirely on the woman, and Abbess, still standing resolute, took a single step forward.

“He is my master now.”

She said, her voice calm but firm, her gaze unyielding as she gestured toward Adam. Shen’s confusion deepened.

“Master?”

He repeated, disbelief coloring his words. His grip on his Bo staff tightened, his knuckles whitening.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand any of this!”

But Varek wasn’t paying attention to Shen Yue anymore. Abbess’s words had pierced him like a dagger. Her earlier statement echoed in his mind, twisting and turning as it burrowed into the deepest recesses of his thoughts. A flicker of realization crossed his face, his features contorting into a mask of disbelief. His posture stiffened, and his dark eyes widened in horror, as though he had just uncovered a truth too terrible to accept.

“No…”

He whispered, his voice trembling, barely audible at first. Then, as if a dam of suppressed fury had broken within him, he roared with unrestrained anger.

“No! I won’t let it happen again! Never again will the people of Murim be puppets for invaders from another world!”

His Ki erupted from his body in a violent surge. The energy was so overwhelming that the air around him seemed to distort and ripple under its sheer force. An oppressive weight pressed down on everyone present, forcing even Shen to stagger back a step.

Powerful gusts of wind exploded outward, carrying with them a choking cloud of dust and debris. The crumbling ruins groaned under the onslaught, ancient stones cracking and falling as the sheer force of Varek’s power tested their structural limits. Adam, Drake, Li, Nikolai, and Emir instinctively raised their arms to shield their faces, the swirling chaos making it difficult to even stand upright.

“I will destroy you all!”

Varek bellowed, his voice booming through the ruins, echoing with an almost primal rage.

“Not just you, but your entire cursed system! As long as that abomination exists, my world will never be safe!”

His Ki flared even brighter, waves of energy cascading from his form in all directions. The ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered, fractures racing outward like jagged lightning bolts. Dust and rubble cascaded from the ceiling, and the walls shuddered as if in fear of the unrelenting power being unleashed.

His entire body went rigid, and his eyes widened further, filled with an unholy mixture of rage and despair. It was as though her statement had shattered something inside him, dredging up memories and fears he had tried desperately to bury.

“No!”

Varek howled, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

“No! I won’t let it happen again! Never again will we be controlled! Never again will we bow to your kind!”

The surge of Ki around him intensified further, becoming almost unbearable. The pressure in the room was suffocating, the air thick and heavy with his rage. Another violent burst of wind swept through the ruins, forcing everyone to brace themselves. Shen, despite his martial prowess, found himself struggling to maintain his footing.

Varek’s voice rose above the cacophony.

“I will make sure you’re destroyed, not just you, but everything you represent! This is my world, and I won’t let you destroy it!”

His Ki surged one final time, radiating outwards in an explosive burst that sent cracks racing up the walls and caused pieces of the ceiling to rain down.

Then, his voice dropped, cold and unyielding.

“Jiangshi Creation!”

The ground trembled violently, fissures opening as the earth itself seemed to answer his call. From the broken floor beside him, a sarcophagus slowly rose, its surface covered in intricate carvings glowing faintly with an ominous light.

Adam’s heart sank as recognition hit him. This was the same technique Bai Huolong had used to summon the Jiangshi that had slaughtered the resistance’s vice-captains. But something was different this time. The aura was darker, heavier, more focused.

The lid of the sarcophagus fell away with a deafening crash, and from within, a figure emerged. Its skin was gray and lifeless, its eyes glowing an eerie, malevolent red. Long black hair hung down in matted strands, and a martial uniform clung to its unnaturally stiff frame. A talisman, inscribed with strange, arcane symbols, was affixed to its face.

Adam’s blood ran cold as he recognized the figure. It was Bai Huolong, reborn as a Jiangshi.

The air was thick with tension as everyone stared at the scene, their expressions ranging from shock to dread. Even Shen seemed at a loss for words, his earlier confusion replaced with wary apprehension.

Park Zhen, standing slightly apart from the group, broke the silence. His voice was grim but steady, a thin edge of resolve cutting through the chaos.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.”

The plan was a total failure, Lord Varek’s was showing a skill he never had before, every necromancy related skill was always Abbess forte, not his, and now they had to fight not only Varek’s enraged state, but also Shen and another Don… It was, in paper, an impossible fight.