Organization.
Ancient hall.
Beneath bronze candlelight.
The cultivator hidden upon the high seat could not help but lean out half his face, covered by an antique bronze mask. His eyes stared fixedly at the dossier and jade slip in his hands, and even his voice carried a trembling murmur. "You mean this treasure can actually advance through some unknown method?"
"It was not that we underestimated him!"
"It was he who advanced and climbed to a new realm while we were overlooking him."
The cultivator on the high seat closed his eyes.
The candle flame swayed, its light falling upon the cultivator kneeling on one knee within the hall.
This man wore a bronze fox mask. The precise expression in those pale yellow eyes could not be seen, but he clearly seemed relieved, slowly exhaling a breath of foul air.
So their plan had not contained a flaw, nor had there been a problem with his execution.
From beginning to end, there had been only one reason: their intelligence had been wrong.
The Soul Banner was not an inanimate object, but "alive."
That was why they had failed.
"It seems you have already guessed something." The cultivator on the high seat opened his eyes. Terrifying pressure made the cultivator half-kneeling in the hall unable to breathe. When he lowered his eyelids, two cold gleams, like two unsheathed swords, pressed against the bronze fox-masked man's throat and heart.
Wild Fox's heart skipped a beat. He said in a deep voice, "This subordinate does not know what Hall Master means."
"Do not pretend with me."
"You understand."
The Hall Master on the high seat sighed.
He did not care about such matters, only reviewing the dossiers of Spirit Transformation cultivators' failures.
Yet before he could find anything amiss, the Altar Master's decree