Beneath Mount Sumeru on the Western Continent, amid the underground ruins.
A sinister wind swept loose stones into whirling circles within the vast, empty pit.
Two streaks of black-and-gold light tore through the dim sky and slammed down before the white jade doors.
Jie Yin and Zhun Ti tumbled out of a void rift, their monk's robes tattered and stained with dust and blood.
Zhun Ti rubbed his aching chest, his heart pounding so hard it nearly leaped into his throat.
Their trip to Kunlun Mountain had been nothing short of a journey through the King of Hell's court.
Qin Mu's terrifying Grass Sword, his boundlessly domineering True Form of Pangu, and the sight of the Primordial Heavenly Demon bowing his head and surrendering the Investiture List still flashed wildly through Zhun Ti's mind.
"Senior brother, are we... are we really going to tell the ancestor the truth?"
Zhun Ti swallowed, keeping his voice extremely low for fear of disturbing the being behind the stone doors.
His heart swung between dread and uncertainty. Their trip to Xiqi had gained them nothing; the Dark Night Monarch had been slaughtered on the spot, and even the Primordial Heavenly Demon had been beaten until he vomited blood and conceded defeat.
As for the blood essence collection mission the Chaos Ancient Buddha had entrusted to them, they had failed to pluck so much as a single hair.
Jie Yin's face was as black as the bottom of a pot as he straightened his disheveled robes.
"Could we hide it? With that old fellow's cultivation, how would lying to his face be any different from courting death?"
Jie Yin drew a deep breath, strode up to the tightly shut Black Iron Gate, and bent both knees, kneeling firmly on the ground.
Seeing this, Zhun Ti