Zhao Feng and his three companions had just approached the main tower's entrance.
They saw a figure appear atop the tower, dressed in a dark robe whose edges fluttered slightly in the wind.
His face gave no hint of his age; they could not even make out his features clearly.
But Zhao Feng could tell that he stood precisely in the center of the surrounding array patterns.
The moonlight traced his silhouette out of the darkness, leaving a sharp boundary between light and shadow in its cold white glow. His hands hung naturally at his sides, palms turned inward, empty of weapons.
Although he neither spoke nor introduced himself, Zhao Feng and the others knew he was the sect master of the Nine Nether Demon Sect.
The sect master looked down at the four of them. "You're here. A little sooner than I expected."
Under the moonlight, his features finally emerged from the dusk. The skin over his cheekbones followed the contours of the bone, his eyes were deeply sunken, and an exceedingly faint veil of darkness covered his pupils. The corner of his mouth twitched. He looked into the distance.
An arc of light extended from the ground and joined the heavens.
The whole world instantly became as bright as day.
"The hour has come." The sect master laughed heartily. He took a circular ritual implement from his Mustard Seed Pouch, slowly ran his fingers around its rim, and then placed it against the inner wall of the tower's pinnacle.
At the center of the inner wall was a recess whose shape matched the disc's outer curvature perfectly. The stone inside had been polished repeatedly, and several narrow grooves radiated outward from the center of its base.
The sect master fitted the disc into the recess. An extremely soft