Appearing

Heavy and messy footsteps echoed within the pitch-black passage as Aaron and his companions continued their trek through the sewers.

The deeper they went, the more they felt a chill and damp cold.

"This should be it," Siosand said, playing with the bronze-colored card that belonged to Tien, glancing at the surrounding terrain. "This spot should be about right."

His tracking spell had a distance limitation, unlike Sart's ability to ignore distance. This was why he had to enter the sewers.

Furthermore, since the target was a fallen one of the Gold Coin Path and Silver Tier, Sart dared not perform the ritual again to ascertain his movements. It was up to Siosand to complete the marking and tracking mission.

No matter how skilled Sart was in rituals, he was still only Bronze Tier. Escaping from a Silver Tier's countermeasure unscathed was already a difficult feat; there was no way he would dare to perform another ritual.

The last encounter was at best a skirmish, with both sides caught off guard, allowing Sart to gain some advantage.

This time, however, it was anyone's guess.

Lord Bals glanced at the cracked text on the wall beside him and said, "This is probably the west side of Leyden City, near the filtration layer."

"Filtration layer?"

"Leyden City's sewers are divided into three layers. The third layer is the filtration layer, specifically designed to filter out large debris and prevent them from clogging the outlets."

Although Lord Bals did not explicitly state it, everyone knew that the so-called large debris likely consisted of corpses. It was even possible that the filtration layer was intentionally designed for this purpose from the start.

In Leyden City, even the city guard consisted of ordinary people, and order relied mostly on personal strength and overt legal codes.

Peace and safety were merely relative concepts in Leyden City.

However, under the formidable reputation of Iron Arm Balthus, very few dared to cause widespread chaos.

For the few homicides or murder cases that occurred each month, Bals remained silent or tacitly approved.

"There's residual energy from the Heretical Cult here. It seems someone frequently enters and exits this place," Siosand murmured, looking around. "And there's more than one cultist?"

His soul could easily sense the heretical energy permeating the surroundings.

The subtle point was that there was more than one such energy.

"More than one?" Aaron was stunned.

But Siosand didn't reply. He simply snapped his fingers crisply. The card in his hand flew out of thin air, hovering silently before them, then disintegrating piece by piece.

Countless shadows surged out again, dimming the torches in their hands.

Faced with the familiar scene, Aaron couldn't help but frown, recalling his previous experiences.

However, in the next second, he saw Siosand take a deep breath. A massive amount of darkness seemed to be pulled into his body by some force.

Mysterious runes appeared on the surface of his simple linen robe, shattering and regenerating in a constant collision.

The inconspicuous, tower-like rune, however, now emitted a dazzling silver-white light, so bright it was blinding, sweeping away the darkness of the sewer and illuminating it as if it were day.

Aaron felt an inexplicable wave quickly spread out, extending in a certain direction with a sense of sentience.

He only looked at the runes on the linen robe for a few seconds before his eyes began to ache unbearably, forcing him to look away.

"What is that?" he nudged Sart beside him and said softly.

"Spiritual Sense Tracking. It's about guessing the target's location based on intuition and instinct. It's a specialty of the Prophets," Sart replied in a low voice, his eyes also twinkling with starlight. "Prophets are different from us. They believe that abandoning their physical bodies makes their souls more sensitive, allowing them to see things they normally couldn't. The body is merely a vessel to sustain the soul."

Aaron's heart stirred, and he suddenly recalled the sounds he had heard earlier. He hesitated and said, "So, the soul can see more?"

"That's roughly the idea. But without the protection and training of transcendent energy, our souls would quickly dissipate after leaving the body. Only Prophets and a select few can achieve soul separation."

See more...

Aaron lowered his head, hiding the astonishment on his face.

If that were the case, then did the conversation between Old Albert and his past self truly happen?

Or was this some kind of implication?

Before he could finish his thoughts, he heard Siosand exhale a long breath.

The silver light quickly dimmed, the runes on the linen robe vanished, and deep darkness emerged from his mouth, eventually condensing back into the bronze-colored card.

"Found him. He's still below us," Siosand said calmly, though the exhaustion in his words was evident.

Lord Bals frowned. "Still below us?"

"Yes, still below us. I can sense his presence." Siosand looked down at the filthy but solid stone bricks beneath his feet, his gaze seeming to pierce through all restraints to see the cultist.

"But, there shouldn't be any path further down," Lord Bals said. "I participated in the renovation plan for Leyden City's sewers back then. There was no space below the filtration layer."

"So, that's why the Earth Demon Spider was there?" Alice was still bothered by the Earth Demon Spider.

Sart frowned. "Perhaps the cultists dug it out?"

After all, the city guard hadn't even thoroughly cleaned the first layer of the sewers, so how could they possibly go down to the filtration layer to check?

Theoretically, as long as they didn't make too much noise and ensured the excavated underground space wouldn't collapse, almost no one would know.

"If that's the case, then this is likely the hiding place for the Heretical Cult in Leyden City," Bals said with a grim expression. "In that case, we might have to leave."

Aaron feigned surprise, staring at Bals. "Leave?"

"Leave," Bals nodded. "If Master Siosand is not mistaken, then this hiding place likely contains many cultists..."

He looked at Aaron and Sart, his eyes revealing hesitation.

As a Gold Tier, and in the confined space of the sewer, Iron Arm Balthus certainly wouldn't be afraid. In fact, he'd welcome a fight in such an environment.

But the problem was, he wasn't alone. Aaron and Sart were in the party, and even Alice was there.

It would be one thing to face a single Silver Tier fallen one, but if they had to fight multiple enemies, the variables would be immense.

Even as a Gold Tier Transcendent, Balthus wasn't confident he could challenge multiple Heretical Cultists at once.

However, it seemed the Heretical Cultist wasn't giving them many choices.

In a daze, Aaron seemed to hear a high-pitched cry from beneath his feet.

There was no wind, yet their torches swayed violently. An inexplicable chill surged from the ground to the top of his head, making Aaron shiver uncontrollably.

Following an unseen connection, he turned around and froze.

In the pitch-black darkness, there was a figure.

A figure as dazzling as the darkness itself.

At that moment, a raspy, dry voice echoed through the sewer, "Lord Bals, you kept your promise."