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Cold dampness seeped through the ancient cracks in the stone, licking the stagnant air of the underground chamber.
This was a stone chamber forgotten entirely, buried deep within a junction of some ancient drainage system beneath Heaven Dou City. Only a few specially made soul guidance lamps of "blooddrop stone" stood in the corners, casting a wavering, viscous glow that stained everything a sickly reddish brown.
Five figures sat around an enormous round table that seemed to have been cast from melted bones.
Their postures varied, but every face was covered by a grotesque mask. The voices emerging from beneath them were distorted by soul tools, sounding inhuman, cold, and strangely doubled:
Number One, wearing the Golden Ghost Mask, spoke first, his voice shrill and hurried. "The uproar has been quiet for seven days and nights. They've already held their seventh-night rite to summon the dead."
"That seemingly vicious 'decapitation strike' by the Crimson Church only lopped off a few broken branches and rotten leaves."
"The Chen Residence... even its gate plaque remained intact. Heh, heh. All they did was get themselves smeared with filth."
Number Two, wearing the Earth Stone Serpent Mask, gave a hiss like grinding gravel. "Broken branches and rotten leaves?"
"As far as I know, Crimson did kill some people, including an old fossil from the Chen Clan-the old fellow who used 'stone armor.' Surely that wasn't a sham."
"To those sword maniacs with their noses pointed at the sky, that was real pain."
"As for the price... didn't Yan Wushuang's nephew, that little snake from the Yan Family called Chou Long, die in there too?"
Grains of sand fell, piling soundlessly on the floor.
Number Three, wearing the Deer Antlers Mask,