Two days later, Mission Hall.
The Mission Hall deacon frowned:
"Zhu Xu and Ge Hong's missions have both exceeded their deadlines. Has anyone seen them?"
Nearly all the Outer Area disciples had already turned in their missions.
This forcibly assigned mission was rarely difficult and rarely dangerous.
The crowd discussed it heatedly:
"Zhu Xu and Ge Hong still haven't returned. There's a good chance something happened to them."
"Ge Hong was ranked fortieth, so his strength was indeed somewhat lacking. But even Zhu Xu, who was ranked twenty-ninth, was killed?"
"Together with Pei Ziqian from before, in just one short month, three out of twenty Outer Area disciples have already been lost..."
Suddenly, someone said:
"When I went out, I was still chatting with Ge Hong. Who would have thought that in just a few days, we'd be separated by the gulf between yin and yang..."
For a time, the atmosphere grew heavy.
The Mission Hall deacon shook his head, lifted his vermilion brush, and drew four strokes across a roster.
Li Chuan stood amid the crowd and saw it clearly.
The names Zhu Xu and Ge Hong had both been crossed out.
"Go back. Come accept missions again next month." The Mission Hall deacon spoke calmly.
There was not much emotional fluctuation on his face.
Clearly, such matters were commonplace to him, something he had long grown accustomed to.
"Deacon," just as the crowd was about to disperse, Ding Luo's voice rang out, suppressing his anger, "Zhu Xu was, no matter what, an Outer Disciple of the Vajra Sect."
"He met with disaster while taking a mission for the Vajra Sect. It certainly wasn't a natural calamity—it was man-made!"
"Are we not even going to investigate?"
Ding Luo stepped out of the crowd alone and stared fixedly at the