The rear mountain of Twin Peak Hill, nestled within the sprawling expanse of the Hanz Clan Estate, loomed with an eerie stillness, its jagged peaks shrouded in a perpetual mist.
In a secluded courtyard villa, hidden amidst a labyrinthine compound of abandoned residences, Alena Newman, the female Eighth Layer cultivator, caught her breath, her chest heaving as she leaned against the intricately carved pillar of a pavilion. Her blonde hair, once meticulously styled, clung to her sweat-dampened brow, its golden strands glinting faintly under the orange dusk sunlight filtering through the villa’s lattice windows. Her sect dress, embroidered with the Thorn Squad’s sigil, were torn at the hem, revealing the smooth, toned curves of her round thighs, their lithe strength a testament to years of grueling cultivation, yet now trembling with the aftershocks of terror.
Moments ago, she and her squad mates had shattered the heavy doors of the Hanz Clan’s Ancestral Shrine, driven by Captain Garrick Blackthorn’s orders to uncover the fabled Hanz Clan Treasury House. Instead, they had unleashed a ninth-layer wraith, a spectral girl whose power overwhelmed them easily, her rampaging fury scattering the squad in blind panic. Carl had fled toward the Hanz Stronghold at the hill’s base, Cade had bolted for the water lily lake in the residence district’s southeast corner, while Alena, her heart pounding with primal fear, had plunged into the maze of the rear mountain’s compounds, her footsteps echoing in the ghostly silence.
Alena’s mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of dread and regret as she wiped cold sweat from her brow, her fingers trembling against her flushed skin. "Damn it! The Hanz Clan Ancestral Shrine was a death trap," she cursed inwardly, her voice a shaky whisper lost in the courtyard’s stillness. "Even Captain Garrick fell to that strange shrine. The Hanz Treasury House must not be there then. Shit! What in the abyss calamity struck this clan to curse their entire mountain estate with such annihilation and horrors?"
The memory of the Thorn Squad’s collapse haunted her. The shrine’s altar loomed as an invisible powerful wraith, a chilling specter wreathed in rotten, tar-like black ghost smoke, struck with terrifying speed, taking her peak Ninth Layer Squad Captain Garrick down and engulfed his body by the shrine’s maw in a single motion. Countless vengeful wraiths swarmed the squad, attacking with frenzied malice. The Thorn Squad scrambled into a frantic retreat as an overwhelming powerful Ninth Layer girl wraith’s spectral claws slashed through the air.
Lordi Payne and Ruru Rosa, too slow to react, were left behind in the chaos. Their fates remained unknown—Alena and the others had fled without looking back, the life-or-death urgency leaving no room for hesitation.
Had the rest of the squad escaped the shrine? Had they survived the wraiths’ pursuit, or had the horrors of the Hanz Clan claimed them, just as they had claimed Garrick?
The uncertainty weighed heavily on Alena, her breath hitching as she scanned the courtyard, its lush greenery and vibrant flowers—jasmine and moonlilies—blooming with an vitality.
The courtyard villa, with its delicate swing swaying gently in the cool breeze, offered a deceptive respite. After probing the area with her Spirit Sense Dao Fulu and detecting no immediate traps or lingering wraiths, she eased onto the swing, her dress rustling as she settled, the motion soothing her frayed nerves.
Swaying gently, Alena’s mind raced, plotting her next move amidst the chaos of the Hanz Clan estate.
"Five battle squads took on the Hanz Clan Estate task, and we Thorn Squad were at a disadvantage from the start," Alena thought bitterly, her fingers tightening around a jade embed dagger in her storage pouch, its runes pulsing faintly with protective energy. "Now, with Captain Garrick Blackthorn lost to the Ancestral Shrine’s horrors, we’re worse than doomed. Even if we stumble upon the Hanz Treasury House, we lack the strength to hold it."
The absence of Garrick, a peak Ninth Layer cultivator whose Iron Thorn Barrier Art had been the squad’s backbone, left them vulnerable in the ruthless hierarchy of the Abyss Pit Sect, where weakness invited predation.
Alena’s seasoned instincts, honed through years as an Outer Sect disciple, painted a stark picture of the sect’s cutthroat nature. "Without Captain Garrick, if another squad learns we’ve lost our Ninth Layer leader, they won’t hesitate to crush us," she mused, her heart sinking with the weight of the Abyss Pit Sect’s predatory ethos. The oath to share the Hanz Treasury’s spoils—particularly the Alchemy Formula for the Foundation Establishment Pill and the clan’s cultivation insights—had been a fragile pact, proposed by Shirley Quinn of the Suicide Squad, backed by Jorge Blue of the Thirst Bull Squad, and tacitly accepted by Garrick Blackthorn. The three Ninth Layer captains had coerced Donovan Valdez, the formidable Mister First Dominator, into agreeing, but the oath’s strength hinged on Garrick’s peak Ninth Layer prowess.
With Garrick’s life or death unknown, swallowed by the Ancestral Shrine’s wraith, the other squads had no reason to honor their promise. "They’ll claim the treasures for themselves, leaving us with nothing—or worse, they’ll slaughter us like scavenger vultures to eliminate any claim we might have," Alena thought, her breath hitching as she imagined the cold pragmatism of her sect comrades.
In the Abyss Pit Sect, kindness was a luxury, and hesitation a death sentence; a squad that didn’t strike first against a weakened rival was considered unusually merciful.
Resolved to act, Alena steeled herself. "I need to find Carl, Cade, or anyone from Thorn Squad to regroup and strategize," she decided, her mind mapping the rear mountain’s labyrinthine compounds and the risks of moving openly. Without Garrick, the squad’s survival depended on cunning and unity, perhaps leveraging Lordi’s erratic but potent Seventh Layer strength—if he still lived—or Ruru’s Crimson Thread Goldwing Centipede, her battle demon beast, to bolster their defenses.
Just as she prepared to rise from the swing, a gentle force pressed against her back, sending the swing swaying forward with an unsettling creak.
Alena’s heart lurched, her body tensing as she dug her high-heeled boots into the earth, halting the motion with a jolt. Whipping around, her Jade Thorn Dagger flashed into her hand, its runes blazing with emerald light as goosebumps prickled across her exposed skin, her torn robes fluttering in the sudden movement, accentuating her lithe form in a fleeting, vulnerable moment.
A tall figure in white robes loomed behind her, his hands outstretched as if to push the swing, his posture eerily still under the faint orange dusk sunlight.
Alena’s breath caught, her eyes widening in shock as she recognized the peak Ninth Layer captain from GhostClaw Squad, who was presumed absent or late after failing to join the crowd outset.
The handsome man’s face was blank, devoid of emotion, his head tilted forward horizontally, but his eyes—unnaturally rolled downward—locked onto hers with an eerie, unblinking intensity that sent a chill racing down her spine.
"S... Senior Brother Langley?!" Alena gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and dread.
The southeast corner of the Hanz Clan estate’s rear mountain, where the vast Water Lily Lake shimmered under the dusk sun, exuded a deceptive calm, its surface dotted with ghostly white lilies that glowed faintly, their petals swaying in the night breeze.
Ruru Rosa stood by the waterfront, her delicate frame tense as she scanned her surroundings, her emerald robes clinging to her slender curves, their silken fabric slightly torn from her frantic escape, revealing glimpses of her porcelain skin. Her violet hair, loose from its usual braid, cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face etched with anxiety.
Just as she prepared to bolt into the shadows, a hushed voice hissed from an inconspicuous rock garden nearby, "Pss! Pss! Ruru, over here!"
Ruru’s eyes darted toward the sound, catching the glint of Cade Barret’s dark eyes emerging from the shadows, his taut, fear-stricken face barely visible against his dark skin.
"Senior Brother Barret, you made it!" Ruru exhaled, a wave of relief washing over her as she hurried to his side, her robes rustling softly, her slender form momentarily vulnerable as she crouched beside the rock garden.