Night. The moon was cool as water, its bright silver radiance spilling across the valley and sweeping away the desolation, wreckage, and devastation of the day.
It lent a few touches of secluded tranquility to this land so battered by calamity.
Unlike the daytime, when dense clouds gathered, lightning flashed, thunder roared, and a downpour seemed ready to fall at any moment—
the valley at night lay beneath a bright moon and clear breeze, carrying a faint warmth, perhaps also influenced by the departure of the evil weapon.
Suddenly, several figures flickered through the moonlight and arrived atop the ritual altar at the very heart of the valley.
Their movement techniques were not especially swift, but they were remarkably uniform.
There were three of them, dressed in matching black fitted outfits, with unconventional cropped hair.
Their faces were pale and bloodless, and each carried a sheathed longsword on his back. They looked like deathly emissaries who had emerged from hell.
"It seems Commander Bai's arrangements were indeed undone. Not only was the evil weapon not brought back, but this place was somehow preserved as well. Those useless Death Thunder Guards are truly worthless. If Commander Bai had been willing to let us act, we would have seized it as easily as reaching into a bag. There would never have been such an accident."
The one standing on the left looked very young, only sixteen or seventeen. His face was pale and bloodless, yet his features were refined and handsome. His sword-like brows were sharp, and his aura carried a certain forcefulness. He spoke with clear disdain.
This person was one of Commander Bai's two personal guards, a Death Sword Guard—and the one among them with the strongest aptitude, comprehension, and talent.
Though only sixteen or seventeen, he had not only