Your Spell Version is Too Low!

The handwriting was peaceful, the content polite.

It even carried a hint of the carefree spirit of a reclusive mountain dweller.

But at this moment, to this menacing group of Masters who had come specifically to "pay a visit," these few simple words were the most scathing and direct form of mockery and provocation.

"Gone traveling? Return date undecided?" The Master in the ghastly green Daoist Robe’s face instantly turned livid. He ground his teeth. "That bastard... He actually dared to run off ahead of time?!"

"Search!" Black Mountain Master said quietly.

The Masters immediately fanned out. Their boundless Divine Senses poured forth like quicksilver, scouring every inch of land inside and outside the Daoist Temple, every brick and tile, even probing deep into the Earth Vein.

A moment later, they all reported back, each with a grimmer expression than the last.

"Master, there are no signs of any Concealing Arrays or entrances to hidden dimensions within the Daoist Temple."

"The Earth Vein is calm, with no anomalous Spiritual Power nodes."

"All the buildings are empty. No residual Restrictions..."

"Even the core Array Hub for the Mountain Protection Array has been dismantled and taken... The place has been completely cleared out."

Black Mountain Master stood in the center of the empty courtyard. The churning, pitch-black Evil Qi around him began to surge uncontrollably. Beneath his feet, the bluestone pavers emitted faint cracking sounds, as if unable to bear the pressure.

His gaze was locked on the piece of white paper fluttering on the doorpost, his eyes so sinister they seemed ready to drip ink.

The stifling frustration of winding up for a powerful blow only to hit empty air made his chest tighten, and even his Dao Heart wavered slightly.

"Good... Very good!"

Black Mountain Master said, his face a mask of indifference:

"Qi Yun, do you think you’re safe just because you’re in hiding?

As long as you’re still in the Profound Yellow Realm, still in the Northwest..."

Just then, another streak of light from a Communication Talisman shot across the sky and landed in the hand of one of the Masters. After reading the message, his expression turned even more peculiar. He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to report in a low voice:

"Master... I’ve just received news.

Qian Xin Master, who is... on good terms with Qi Yun, announced three days ago that he was entering seclusion until death. The Restrictions on his residence are fully active, he is refusing all visitors, and he has sworn not to emerge until he succeeds in Breaking Realm."

Another Master, who had apparently also received a message, added:

"Qing Li Master and their Daoist partner left the mountain yesterday. They said they were traveling to the East Sea to visit a friend. Their return... is undecided."

"Yang Cuan Master claims to have reached a critical point in his Artifact Refining and has sealed his forge room."

"Ming Yu Master accepted a long-term patrol mission for the Sect in a remote region and departed this morning..."

One by one, the names were announced. Every single one was a Holy Sect Master who had been close to Qi Yun, or had at least openly expressed goodwill toward him on certain occasions.

And without exception, all of them had recently used a variety of perfectly reasonable excuses to "disappear" from the Sect at the same time.

Their departures were clean, their timing impeccable.

Standing in the deserted Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple, where only the mountain wind whistled through the halls, Black Mountain Master stared at the glaring white paper on the door. For the first time, he had a crystal-clear realization.

The ant he had once considered beneath his notice was far more resourceful and difficult to handle than he had ever estimated.

His opponent seemed to have long predicted that he would strike at this exact moment.

And what’s more, he had prepared for everything in advance.

He fled to a distant place, while his allies went into hiding.

Even though they were seething with rage, there was nothing they could do.

Could they really go and ask True Monarch Wu Dao to issue an order to drag Qi Yun back?

If they dared even utter such a request, their fate would be far worse than Qi Yun’s.

The Demon Sect had its own way of doing things.

The True Monarch might turn a blind eye to their internal scheming and infighting.

But he would never tolerate an open, flagrant schism.

BOOM!

Smoke and dust billowed up as the doorpost and the white paper on it were pulverized into dust.

But the stifling frustration of finding the person gone, the temple empty, of a punch landing on nothing but air—that feeling lingered deep in the hearts of Black Mountain Master and the grim-faced Masters behind him.

The Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple still stood.

It just seemed all the more vast and desolate.

...