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墨書 Inktalez
The Legend of the Immortals Prequel: Wilderness Journey
Under the peculiar high tower of the Demon Cult Holy Temple, a large crowd had gathered, all members of the Demon Cult. Among them were the highest-ranking sect leaders, nearly all present. Aside from the major sects, the three most powerful factions within the Demon Cult were represented: Poison God at the forefront, along with Heavenly Joy Sect and Changsheng Hall. Standing at the front of the crowd were San Miao and Yuyangzi. However, another powerful faction, the Ghost King Sect, was notably absent, leaving their whereabouts unknown.
Additionally, many who had originally followed the previous leader Qiu Wangyu were present, including those from the original Four Great Saints of the Demon Cult. Yet now they were scattered, with many having directly aligned themselves with other major sects, clearly having been swayed. Only a few from the Qinglong, Baihu, and Zhuque remained isolated, appearing particularly lonely.
Many members of the Demon Cult cast glances toward Qinglong and others standing beneath the Shura Tower, cradling a large urn. Their eyes revealed a hint of hostility, making the scene feel particularly poignant. Just not long ago, when the previous leader was still alive, Qinglong and his companions were rising stars in power; now their situation had drastically changed.
Despite the veiled hostile gazes around him, Qinglong seemed oblivious to them. With a pained expression, he held the urn containing Qiu Wangyu's ashes before the tower. Suddenly, an ancient song floated from afar within the hall—melancholic and mournful. The wind stirred the banners as members of the Demon Cult lowered their heads; some closed their eyes in silence while others softly sang along.
The voice seemed to echo from ancient times, resonating between the earth and soaring into the sky.
Qinglong stared at the tower and suddenly lifted a bowl of crimson blood from the ground, splashing it onto the tower's surface. Moments later, a thunderous sound erupted as a beam of light descended upon the tip of the Shura Tower. A rumbling noise followed as black light surged from the tower, illuminating a shadow that stretched across the sky—dark and ominous like an abyss of hell; it felt as if one glance too long could lead to eternal darkness.
When that abyss-like shadow appeared, all members of the Demon Cult knelt down. Qinglong stood at the forefront, closest to both the Shura Tower and that dark abyssal shadow. Even with his level of cultivation, he couldn't help but shiver. He quickly scattered the ashes gently before the Shura Tower, then silently recited ancient scriptures while kneeling in reverence.
A piercing howl suddenly erupted from within that dark abyss-like shadow, resembling a wailing ghost as if someone was raging inside. The voice was fierce and terrifying, causing all living beings to tremble in fear. The ashes were swept up by the wind and mixed with sand before sinking beneath the Shura Tower.
Darkness surged and flickered with dim light as if something was attempting to break free from its confinement. But just then, a gentle breeze swept in from afar within that Sanctuary, brushing over the sandy ground like sunlight piercing through shadows, causing all darkness to recede.
The sharp howls from within that shadow quickly faded away; soon after, it shrank gradually until it vanished atop the Shura Tower.
Qinglong watched as those ashes scattered in the wind; tears streamed down his face without him realizing it as he heavily bowed his head to the ground with muffled sobs. Behind him, Baihu and Zhuque appeared similarly affected; only Zhuque's face was obscured by black veils, preventing outsiders from seeing her expression. However, her shoulders trembled slightly, clearly indicating her deep sorrow.
Compared to the three Holy Envoys of the Demon Sect, the others seemed much more relaxed. After the ceremony concluded, many quickly stood up, showing little sorrow on their faces. Instead, their gazes toward Qinglong, Baihu, and Zhuque were filled with a hint of disdain.
A few coughs were heard as Poison God approached the three of them and said gently, "Please accept my condolences. The Sect Leader was an unparalleled hero; being buried beneath Shura Tower was his wish. There is no need for you to be sad."
Qinglong took a deep breath, wiped away his tears, and after calming himself slightly, he stood up and bowed to Poison God, saying, "Thank you."
Poison God nodded and looked back at the crowd before speaking loudly, "Everyone, please follow me into the Sanctuary. The Sect Leader's affairs have been taken care of; now we should discuss the current strategies for the Holy Sect."
Among the crowd of the Demon Sect, some responded enthusiastically while others remained expressionless and unresponsive. A few glanced around uncertainly, seemingly indecisive.
Poison God paid no mind to that and led the way toward the grand hall. Behind him, many disciples of Wandu Sect immediately followed, creating a significant presence.
Once Wandu Sect moved forward, other factions observed for a moment before gradually making their way toward the grand hall as well. However, the atmosphere in the air began to grow heavy and tense; whenever they looked at those beside them, if they were not fellow sect members, there was a sense of wariness.
Qinglong, Baihu, and Zhuque stood at the back. Baihu snorted coldly and said, "Elder Brother, should we go over too?"
Before Qinglong could respond, Zhuque interjected, "I think we should just stay back. These people seem to wish for our early demise; it's disgusting just to look at them."
After pondering for a moment, Qinglong sighed and said, "We might as well go take a look. After all, we are still members of the Holy Sect."
Baihu and Zhuque fell silent. Although they appeared somewhat reluctant, they did not insist on staying behind any longer. Clearly, they still valued their identities as members of the Holy Sect. As Qinglong led them forward a few steps, Zhuque suddenly spoke again:
"Elder Brother, is Xuanwu really not coming back?"
Qinglong nodded and said, "That's how he was when he left."
Baihu angrily replied, "This guy is really ungrateful. Clearly, the four of us swore together back then, yet he..."
"Alright, enough," Qinglong interrupted Baihu wearily and said, "We can't blame him. It's really our Holy Sect that is in a bad situation now. When the opportunity arises in the future, I will naturally seek him out again."
Baihu nodded and fell silent. Qinglong then glanced at the large group of Cultists gradually entering the main hall and suddenly said, "Not a single person from the Ghost King Sect has come."
Zhuque chimed in, "Yeah, I heard they were busy holding a grand funeral for the Demon King Sect Master out in the wilderness. Then that guy named Wan just disregarded everything and somehow got his hands on a letter left by the Demon King Sect Master. He took the body of the Demon King Sect Master along with everyone else and inexplicably ran back to Fox Ridge Mountain."
Baihu grumbled, "I think he's really lost it. How can he get anything by not coming here?"
Qinglong scoffed and said, "You don't understand; he's actually very clever."
Zhuque and Baihu were both taken aback. Qinglong looked up at the sky and snorted, saying, "Just wait and see. In the future, as the world changes, we still don't know who will end up laughing last."
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