Rodney’s gaze flicked toward the distant wing where thunderous echoes had erupted minutes prior. "Donovan Valdez is the strongest among the five task battle squad. Whether the treasury house is in the Royal Study or not, we can’t let his Dominator Squad clear it too quickly unchallenged."
A pause. "Tell your Thirst Bull to stay sharp and keep distance from Dominator. If Valdez spots us, we’ll become their first target to remove—a mistake we can’t afford."
"Noted," Jorge Blue inclined his head, squinting thoughtfully as his squad rifled through cabinets and chests. "Rodney, I’ll admit... I’m curious about what rattled Donovan’s Dominator Squad so badly in that Royal Study Library," he mused aloud. "After genius cultivator Senior Brother Kroger Hanz vanished, not a single late-phase Qi Refinement cultivator remained here in this Hanz Clan Estate. Any seventh-layer or higher fighter could’ve slaughtered everyone here in this mountain estate alone."
Jorge Blue paced the Main Hall, his voice low and measured. "Think about it—The Hanz Clan Estate falls under our holy sect’s territory. A fallen clan like the Hanz shouldn’t have drawn the ire of any formidable enemy. Even if they provoked someone, with Kroger Hanz’s soul lamp still burning—proof he’s alive—any foe would hesitate to massacre the clan, fearing a genius cultivator’s return. So, their doom wasn’t a simple vendetta."
He clenched his fist. "That’s why the Outer Sect Elders deemed this task ’safe,’ restricting it to disciples at the Sixth-Layer Qi Refinement or higher. They accounted for every conceivable threat. Yet..." His jaw tightened. "Four Battle Squads vanished without a trace. Only Hughie Wing escaped—barely—with fragmented clues."
He paused, brow furrowing. "And now, even Donovan Valdez, with his strength, used a Violet Noir Lightning Fulu so early. What did the Hanz Clan cross? What happened here?"
Rodney Luther’s gaze darkened, his sallow face calm, pondered briefly "Not a cultivator’s slaughter," he said flatly. "If it was, the Foundation Establishment Pill’s Alchemy Formula, the Crimson Whisker Vine, the entire treasury house—they’d have been looted by now."
"Exactly," Jorge nodded. "The Hanz Clan, however diminished, is still under our holy sect’s protection. A cultivator bold enough to kill them would’ve fled immediately after the act, not lingered to murder more Abyss Pit Sect’s disciples."
"Nor a demon beast rampage," Rodney Luther added. "No trace of demonic Qi lingers here. No claw marks, no corrupted vegetation. The Gloomwater Phantom Lily Array, the estate’s buildings, and the surrounding woods and bushes are nearly pristine, untouched by the chaos a demon beast would leave."
Jorge Blue lifted his gaze, his face darkening. "It feels like... a scourge curse."
His voice dropped to a tense whisper. "Hughie Wing, only at the peak of Eighth Layer Qi Refinement Stage, saw the treasury’s treasures with his own eyes and escaped to the holy sect. Yet, we lost nearly ten cultivators from four squads before even stepping foot inside the Hanz Clan Estate." A chill crept into his words. "If this is a scourge curse, it’s not static. It feeds on death. The more cultivators perish here in the Hanz Clan Estate, the stronger it becomes."
Heard this, Rodney Luther’s expression turned grim. "That would be trouble."
Lost in thought, Rodney opened his mouth to say something, but a nearby cultivator’s low exclamation cut him off.
In a blur of motion, Jorge and Rodney materialized to the side of a pale-faced young male cultivator, demanding in unison, "What is it? Did you find something?"
"J-Junior Sister Paton... she’s gone!" the cultivator trembled, stammered, hesitating before pointing to the empty space beside him. "She was right here a moment ago. I looked away for a second, and... she’s gone."
"What?" Pulse spiked, Jorge and Rodney exchanged a sharp glance.
As they stepped forward to investigate, the solid wooden floor beneath their feet suddenly softened, an eerie, unnatural shift rippling through the hall.
Twin Peaks Summit – Clan Chief’s Royal Study
The world moved in slow, suffocating stillness, as if time itself had drowned beneath dark waters.
Donovan Valdez stood at the center of it all, his scarred face a mask of icy calm. Gone was the impatience he’d shown the other battle squads earlier. Here, in this trapped silence, he was a blade honed to lethal focus.
His fists hammered the air before him!
Strike after strike. A hundred more.
Each blow carried killing intent forged from countless slaughters, clashing the void with screeching fury. The air in this suffocating illusion screeched, cracked under the onslaught, a long scar tearing through the void’s oppressive stillness.
His relentless assault cracked the trap array, revealing glimpses of neat bookshelves of the untouched Royal Study Library beyond.
Donovan pressed the attack, each punch widening the rift in the midair, hammered the fracture wider, muscles coiled like steel springs. Until—
With a roar, the silence split like torn silk.
Reality snapped back.
Donovan Valdez and his Dominator Squad reappeared in the Royal Study Library, gasping. The suffocating illusion dispelled, the array shattered. Behind them, an ink painting scroll with Blood River Netherworld slid from the wall, its spiritual glow fading into nothingness.
"Zach Wright’s missing," Donovan growled after scanning his squad. He turned to a white-robed female cultivator with tattoos on her face and hands. "Zoe, sense the whereabout of your brother. Is he held up somewhere, or still trapped in that damned painting realm?"
The female cultivator closed her eyes, her expression serene. Moments later, she paled, unease flickering across her face. "Captain Donovan, Zach... He’s... still at the ambush point," she whispered. "Where we left him to block Garrick Blackthorn and his Thorn Squad earlier."
"What?" Donovan’s frown deepened. "Move. Let’s check it out."
The Dominator Squad descended the hill, arriving at a shadowed courtyard littered with shattered Battle Dao puppets, their broken limbs strewn like grotesque offerings. What they found froze even Mister First Dominator’s battle-hardened heart, a chill seeping into their souls.
Dozens of puppet limbs, slick with fresh blood and pulped flesh, were meticulously arranged on the gore-soaked ground, their twisted forms crafting a grotesque arrow that pointed to the courtyard’s heart. There, Zach Wright’s severed head rested on a bed of crimson-stained moss, its face eerily cleaned, his lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead, his expression eerily calm. Without this horrific marker, they might not have recognized him at first glance—their comrade, who’d shared their battles day and night.
Zoe Wright’s scream died in her throat, choked by overwhelming grief. Her body trembled, silencing further words as she knelt, cradling her brother’s head to her chest.
Donovan Valdez knelt beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder in comfort. He examined the head, spotting ghostly hand marks on the severed neck. "Zombie Morphing Art," the Captain of Dominator Squad snarled. The martial spell’s name alone ignited inferno rage in his eyes.
"Garrick Blackthorn..." The Mister First Dominator stood, the air around him crackling with murderous intent. His voice, when it came, was a promise carved in ice. "How dare you kill my squad brother? I swear on my soul! None of Thorn Squad will leave this Hanz Clan Estate alive."