Within the Holy Sect, a vast, endless, and majestic mountain range, wreathed in Evil Qi—this was the domain of the Black Mountain Master.
At the summit of the main peak, inside a magnificent grand hall constructed entirely from massive jet-black stones, the light was dim.
Only a few slivers of faint light penetrated through the cracks of the stone windows, illuminating the pitch-black Evil Qi that drifted slowly through the air like a living creature.
The Black Slaughter Master, as Black Mountain's most trusted younger brother and core follower, was currently seated in a subordinate position, slowly caressing an Azure Treasure Bead that shimmered with a watery, azure light. The bead's glow reflected upon his somewhat sinister face.
He lifted his eyes, looking toward the burly figure on the main seat, who seemed to have merged with the shadows. He slowly began to speak, his voice echoing in the empty grand hall:
