Chapter 3107: The Terror In The Ninefold Crypts

The chamber shook with another uproar, but this time, the disbelief was tinged with fear.

To wipe out a sect’s base and slay its leader was not an ordinary feat.

This was extermination.

The High Priestess raised her hand again, silencing them.

Her cold gaze swept the chamber, and then she nodded toward the cultists. "Show them."

A trembling man rose from the group, his eyes bloodshot and his lips cracked. He clutched a formation disc with both hands as though it were a cursed object. Stumbling forward, he placed it before the High Priestess and staggered back.

She activated it with a flick of her fingers. The disc flared, and above it shimmered an illusory projection, grainy and fractured.

"This," the High Priestess said, her voice lowering into a whisper, "is what was transmitted by their emergency arrays. Only fragments survived... but fragments are more than enough."

The chamber went still. All eyes locked onto the flickering images.

At first, the view was distorted; stone walls quaking, muffled screams, arrays cracking like glass. Then came the first clear sight: a figure cloaked in flames, his very presence bending the world around him.

The Magma Asura.

Lin Mu.

Even fragmented, the vision tore at their minds.

His colossal form glowed like molten death, each movement a calamity in itself. Walls of the Crooked Abyss splintered under his strikes, the air rippling with waves of destructive heat.

Cultists died by the hundreds, burned alive, crushed, or erased entirely. The illusion carried no sound at first, but when it came, it was worse than silence. The thunder of collapsing stone.

The screaming of men and women. And beneath it all, a roar that was not entirely human.

The chamber’s temperature seemed to plummet. Many clutched their robes tighter, though sweat dampened their brows.

"This... this cannot be real," someone whispered, yet their own voice betrayed their terror.

Another spoke more harshly, trying to convince himself, "A trick of the arrays! A false illusion!"

But then came the final fragment... The Cult Leader himself, unleashing his full might.

The illusory scene showed waves of flame and water energies crashing down upon the magma-clad figure.

Yet it was futile.

The Magma Asura tore through it as though it were mist, and in a single horrifying motion, he struck down the leader. The vision cut abruptly after that, but the result was undeniable.

The Drowned Crescent Cult had been annihilated.

"We’ve confirmed the death of the leader... His Soul Lamp has been snuffed out." The High Priestess dropped the sentence like the blade of a guillotine.

Silence fell once more, heavy and suffocating. No one dared breathe too loudly. The terror on the faces of the surviving cultists was proof enough of the truth.

The High Priestess’s gaze swept across them all, her voice carrying the weight of inevitability. "Now you understand. The divination was wrong. The ancestor saw destruction, yes, but not upon the orthodox world as we believed. The vessel of destruction is not our ally. It is not our weapon. It is the end of us."

Her words sank like poisoned daggers into their hearts.

Those gathered had thought themselves hidden in shadows, untouchable in the depths of the Marshes of Silent Skies. They had thought of themselves as conspirators waiting for their moment to rise. Now, every man and woman in that hall felt like prey caught in the path of a beast that should not exist.

Cold sweat ran down spines. Breaths came shallow. Even the most battle-hardened among them could not shake the sight of that fragmented figure of molten terror.

The realization spread through them all, unspoken yet undeniable.

Lin Mu was not simply an enemy. He was a calamity.

And he was coming for them.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

The fractured images faded, leaving behind nothing but the dim light of the hall and the lingering weight of dread that pressed down on everyone’s chest.

The High Priestess of the Ephemera Sect did not speak immediately. She let the silence stretch, let the cold fear sink deeper into the bones of all who were present. She wanted them to feel it, to understand the enormity of the calamity that had befallen them.

The representatives from the allied powers shifted uncomfortably, but not one dared to break the stillness.

Their minds replayed the fragments they had just seen: the shattering ground, the inferno of molten earth, and above all else, the figure of the Magma Asura that tore through the Drowned Crescent cult’s base like a nightmare given form.

A man from one of the smaller allied sects could not take it anymore.

He clenched his trembling hands against the stone table and hissed, "That... that thing... was no man. What was it?"

His voice cracked, betraying his terror.

The priestess’ gaze, sharp as a dagger, flickered to him and silenced the hall once more. Finally, she spoke in a voice like steel dipped in shadow.

"It was him. The one the ancestor warned us about. The one we thought the divination had misjudged. We thought he was destined to topple the great sects of the orthodox path, but..." She let her voice drop lower, each word curling into the minds of the listeners like a serpent. "...it seems his sword points instead at us."

A sharp intake of breath swept the hall.

The surviving members of the Drowned Crescent cult looked hollow, their eyes sunken, their spirits already broken.

They trembled, one of them whispering under his breath, "He crushed us... like ants... not even resistance... nothing left." His voice turned shrill. "Our leader’s Nascent Soul was devoured! Not destroyed, devoured! Who can stand against something like that?!"

His panic rippled through the assembly, igniting murmurs of disbelief and horror.

"How do we know that for sure?" Someone asked.

"The Soul Lamp... The way it went out was normal. It was classic signs of a soul being consumed." One of the members explained.

"Impossible. No normal cultivator could consume a soul like that."

"Could he be a Soul Cultivator?" A person wondered.

"No, if it were a Soul Cultivator we would have known..."

"Could he be a devil in human skin?"

Their words buzzed like flies, thick with fear.

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