Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 2888: The Crimson Root

Chapter 2888: The Crimson Root

"Yes. Extracted by force. Not destroyed. Not scattered. Taken."

The humming deepened.

"That's impossible. No one should be able to pierce our Soul Locks."

"Unless," said a fifth voice, barely more than a whisper, "they used forbidden methods. Something aligned with the Killing Path."

That silenced the chamber.

Even the crystals in the walls seemed to dim, as if listening more carefully now.

"Are you saying a Devilish technique was used?" someone asked.

"There are signs," the first speaker said carefully. "What little our anchors could relay before going dark… suggested a technique similar to the Soul Slaughter Art."

A sharp breath escaped one of the cultists. Another trembled faintly.

"That technique was sealed. Buried beneath layers of curse arrays and forgotten in the ash of the Last Cycle."

"Then someone unearthed it."

"Or it found someone," the elder voice intoned.

The suggestion sent a ripple through the group.

"It can't be the same technique," another said, attempting to regain composure. "Many techniques mimic its patterns."

"And yet no known art—Daoist or demonic—can consume a soul whole through layered seals. Not like this," the elder replied. "Only one lineage could do such a thing."

"Do we know who did it?"

"No. The identity of the attacker remains unknown," the original speaker said. "Our tracking arrays failed. There was… interference. A void around the event. Whatever they used, it suppressed even spiritual residue."

"Could it have been a Transcendent?"

"Possibly. Or someone using Transcendent-level methods."

The room fell silent once more.

Then, the elder turned toward the center of the chamber. A small orb floated above the dais, faintly glowing red. With a silent gesture, the elder activated it.

A swirl of murky images spun into view. The final moments of Unit Seventeen—blurry figures in a forest clearing, flickers of battle, a golden burst of energy. Then, darkness. A single image lingered—a ripple of pale light, shaped like a hand reaching into the soul.

"That aura…" the elder murmured. "Unfamiliar. But strong... Dangerous."

One of the cultists knelt. "What should we do?"

The elder's voice deepened. "We do not retaliate. Not yet. We do not expose ourselves further."

"But they've seen our operatives. If they track the seal—"

"They won't," the elder cut him off. "The seals were designed to fracture completely. Only one was captured, and now his soul is gone."

"What about the Crypt?"

"It remains intact," another cultist answered. "The Ninefold Gates are sealed. The baleful fog still covers the marshes. No one without the key can enter."

"Then we hold the advantage… for now."

"But we must act," the elder said. "Whoever this unknown force is—they are too close. Too effective. And if they truly possess the Soul Slaughter Technique, or something akin to it…"

"…Then the Seed may awaken prematurely," another finished grimly.

The room darkened again.

"We issue the silent summons," the elder ordered. "Call the Fanged Envoy. Have him go to the Silent Skies. Quietly. No engagement—only surveillance."

"And if this force nears the Crypt?"

"Then we let the Ninefold defend itself," the elder replied. "Even Transcendents have perished in that swamp. Let them throw themselves into the abyss, if they dare."

The pool in the dais shimmered, glowing faintly.

"We also inform our people in the Darkhan Dynasty," said another. "Their border will be the next path. We ensure they know it's in their interest to keep the region locked down."

"They'll demand payment."

"They'll receive it," the elder said. "We have reserves hidden in the old Vault."

A moment passed. Then, one by one, the robed cultists bowed their heads.

"For the Root."

"For the Thorn."

"For the Eye."

"For Ephemera!"

As they chanted, the pool at the center bubbled once more, this time forming no image—only a vertical slit of bloodlight in the dark, like an eye blinking open within the void.

Watching.

Waiting.

The next day, the sun rose gently over the flatlands that cradled the Hawk Eye Sword Sect, painting long shadows across the polished stone courtyards. A faint breeze stirred the surrounding fields, carrying the scent of morning dew and distant immortal herbs.

Lin Mu stood at the sect's outer gate, clad in his simple traveling robes form created by the Silver Mirage Circlet, while Meng Bai adjusted the straps on his spear holder. He had taken a liking to carrying it on his back, as it made him feel like a warrior from story books.

Little Shrubby meanwhile lazily draped around his shoulders like a sash of fur and muscle. Dugu Ciu stood before them, hands clasped behind his back, a gentle smile playing on his face.

"It's been a pleasure having you here," Dugu Ciu said, his tone sincere. "Your lecture has certainly left an impression… my disciples won't shut up about it."

Lin Mu chuckled. "I'm glad they found it helpful. Sword Dao is a path of endless tempering—it's always good to see those eager to walk it."

"You've more than just shared wisdom," Dugu said, his expression turning more thoughtful. "You've helped us uncover threats hidden right beneath our noses. That's not a debt I take lightly."

He extended a hand. "If ever you find yourself in need—be it for knowledge, shelter, or sword—I'll come. And if I can't help myself, I know a few friends scattered across this world who just might."

Lin Mu clasped the hand firmly. "I'll remember that."

Dugu smiled wider, then glanced at Meng Bai. "And you, young man. Make sure to give your master trouble—he seems the type who learns best when challenged."

"I'll do my best," Meng Bai said with a grin, earning a raised brow from Lin Mu.

Little Shrubby let out a soft purr, tail curling upward.

"Take care, both of you. The road ahead… isn't simple." Dugu Ciu's voice turned quieter, more knowing. "Especially if you're heading to the Great Burden Monastery. I heard its been closed for a while now." The man warned.

Lin Mu nodded. "It won't be our first tangle with sealed sacred grounds."

"But perhaps your most introspective," Dugu said cryptically, then stepped back. "Go with clarity."

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