Eleven Fires

At Cloud Palace.

Quite a few people were gathered there.

Zhao Zixuan and Mo Chen were both present.

Among them, the two from Ghost Gate Pass were a man and a woman. The man's face was bluish-green, the woman's flushed red. One wore black funeral robes, the other a red bridal gown.

The man had a dead man's face, blue and stiff. Chains coiled around his body, and a mourning staff floated at his side. The staff was white, black qi streaming across it, laden with overwhelming yin energy. It struck directly at the soul.

The woman's face glowed red, joy written across her brow, yet she also seemed mournful and self-pitying, like a young maiden about to be married—half delighted, half anxious. Red threads wound around her, while ghost infants crawled back and forth beneath her skirt. Thump, thump, thump—sounds like heartbeats echoed from her body, plural in number, from within her hands, feet, and torso alike. There seemed to be seven or eight of them, sounding without cease. The noise was deeply strange; as one listened, one's own heartbeat involuntarily linked with it, falling under the control of her heartbeats.

Both their auras were immensely powerful, already beyond Ten Fires, touching upon a higher realm.

Strangely, the two of them stood around Zhao Zixuan, placing her at the center.

Yet Zhao Zixuan did not react with much enthusiasm, helplessness written on her face. The bizarre doll perched on her shoulder, meanwhile, displayed intense resistance. Its little hands clutched Zhao Zixuan tightly, like a Chihuahua whose territory had been invaded, constantly letting out low whimpers.

The man from Divine Forging Sect somewhat resembled Du Fei. He too was a member of the Du family from Divine Forging Sect. Yet unlike Du Fei, he was not of the Du family's