Empty Cicada Temple, rear courtyard.
An ancient tree, thousands upon thousands of years old, had taken root here. Its surface was covered in moss, while its dense branches and leaves blocked out the sunlight, making the surroundings tranquil and secluded.
A dazzling golden Buddhist radiance suddenly appeared in the sky, transforming into a beam of light. An elderly man dressed in golden monk's robes descended to the ground.
His face was like gold paper, his aura fluctuating unstably. His monk's robes were stained with blood, and he staggered upon landing, nearly unable to remain standing. He had suffered grievous injuries.
"Abbot!"
An old monk hurried forward to support him. The instant he touched him, his heart was filled with horror. More than half the bones in the abbot's body were broken, held together only by spiritual power, with a dense, evil aura lingering around him.
At the same time, he was puzzled. Four people had gone there—why had only the abbot returned in the end? Could it be... He did not dare continue thinking.
The elderly abbot coughed several times, black blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. Forcing himself to remain conscious, he gave an order. "Seal the mountain gates tonight. Activate the protective formation. No one is allowed to enter or leave."
The people around him widened their eyes. This was a measure the ancient temple would take only when facing a grave crisis.
"Abbot, what exactly happened?" A blind old monk uttered a Buddhist invocation and could not help asking, "How are the other three now?"
He had never supported the plan for this journey in the first place. There were differing philosophies within Empty Cicada Temple as well.
The elderly abbot shook his head, his expression desolate. "There was an expert guarding the snake demon.