Crack
The Grand Elder finished beating the big stick and said it was time for some sweet jujubes.
He glanced around, quite satisfied with the atmosphere in the room, stroked his beard, and began handing out the jujubes with a cheerful smile.
“Everyone, there’s no need to worry too much. Although the situation is urgent, it’s not without a solution—”
He deliberately paused, seeing everyone’s eyes full of expectation, then continued contentedly:
“The Bagua Sect has already issued warnings. Although this sudden crisis caught us off guard, we were not unprepared.”
The Grand Elder explained patiently.
The Headmaster of the Bagua Sect sacrificed his own lifespan to glimpse a fragment of Heavenly Secrets and left a dying message: a great calamity will soon befall the southwest.
Coincidentally, the Life Gate is also located in the southwest.
And in ancient times, the Great Marsh was situated in the southwest as well.
The exact location in the southwest is no longer known, but the direction is certain.
If this calamity originates from the southwest, then the situation there will be even worse than in Shangjing.
Southwest…calamity…
Bai Maomao’s eyes narrowed.
Wasn’t the reason they left Rain Marsh Mountain because the spiritual energy began to dissipate?
Bai Maomao pondered silently—could it be that from that time on, the Demon Clan’s plan had already begun, and they themselves were just a part of it?
Before he could piece it all together, the Grand Elder revealed an even more shocking piece of news.
Recently, a minor earthquake occurred in Rain Marsh Mountain in the southwest.
There were no casualties, but satellite surveys showed that a massive fissure had opened deep within the mountain.
An endless stream of mist poured out from the crack, already covering more than half of Rain Marsh Mountain.
And the captured Demon Clan member’s timeline coincides exactly with the time of that earthquake.
“Could the fissure in Rain Marsh Mountain be the place where the seal was broken?” someone cautiously asked.
The Grand Elder nodded.
“We have already sent the first group of people to investigate and attempt to seal the fissure using Fa Qi, but unfortunately, the results were not very effective.”
He quickly added that such news, which could shake morale, was better kept under wraps.
Since receiving the news, numerous people had been dispatched from Shangjing, but all were helpless against the thick mist of Rain Marsh Mountain.
The mist not only disturbs the cultivators’ senses but also affects their Dao Heart if they stay inside for too long.
Among the earliest disciples sent, three have already shown signs of mental disorder.
Keep in mind, cultivators fight for their lives against Heaven itself; their willpower is far stronger than ordinary people.
Yet these cultivators only wandered in the mist for three days before emerging with broken Dao Hearts and faint signs of madness.
After the news, Shangjing had no choice but to halt further exploration, and everyone only dared to wait on the outskirts.
No one knew exactly what this mist was.
Only the top-tier elites were fully informed; this meeting was not to lecture ignorant cultivators on ancient cultivation history.
The reason they gathered these disciples was because they suspected more than one Demon Clan member had escaped.
And the undercurrents stirring within the cultivation world might very well involve the Demon Clan.
If these forces stirred up chaos in the cultivation world, they would also threaten the safety of ordinary people.
The Mortal Realm’s common folk are unaware of the cultivation world’s existence.
The Dragon Nation government does not advocate these idealistic cultivation methods, focusing instead on scientific development.
However, cultivation families have taken root for many years, their branches and roots deep, and the power of cultivators is beyond ordinary control.
To maintain harmony between the two sides, the Dragon Nation government tacitly accepts the cultivation world’s existence.
In recent years, the influential families in Shangjing have even planted numerous insiders within the government’s core.
Currently, the Cultivation Faction and the Science Faction are evenly matched, neither able to fully suppress the other, maintaining a fragile balance.
But if the Demon Clan causes trouble, this delicate balance will be shattered instantly.
The moves of the elites in Shangjing not only concern the survival of the cultivation world but also impact government transitions and the entire stability of the Dragon Nation.
The Mortal Realm absolutely cannot fall into chaos.
The final decision at the meeting was: each sect must send at least twenty disciples to cooperate with their local special operations divisions, taking turns to maintain city stability and prevent the Demon Clan from causing disturbances in the Mortal Realm.
The leaders discussed the detailed rules until late into the night before finalizing the implementation plan.
Although some sects had minor objections, the decision was already made by the top figures, and they had no choice but to comply.
After settling the details, others gradually left.
Lang Junxian remained seated, as did Bai Maomao.
A stout man called to Bai Maomao to leave together, but Bai Maomao shook his head and smiled at him, “I’m waiting for a friend. I’ll come find you once this is over.”
Though sensing he wasn’t being entirely honest, the stout man took the hint and left on his own.
The conference room quickly emptied.
Lang Junxian stood, his tall stature commanding attention.
Bai Maomao stared fixedly as he approached.
“Had your fill of looking?”
Lang Junxian bent slightly, their noses almost touching.
Bai Maomao’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gave up pretense, “Not yet.”
Lang Junxian chuckled softly and brushed his finger across Bai Maomao’s nose.
“Go back and look then. You’re the Young Master of the Qianji Sect now—wipe the drool from your mouth.”
Bai Maomao reflexively wiped the corner of his mouth, realizing he’d been tricked but unable to retaliate on the spot, so he glared at Lang Junxian and stood with a stern face.
Lang Junxian indulged him with a smile and led him to a smaller conference room.
The small room was in the basement of Mojia Villa, its entrance protected by an array formation allowing only certain people to enter.
Bai Maomao went through the back door, clearly among the designated few.
The other elites were surprised to see him arrive, then immediately turned to look at Mo Qin.
Lang Juntian even glanced questioningly at Lang Junxian.
Mo Qin shrugged.
“Sit down first, then we’ll talk.”
Bai Maomao met the intense gazes of the assembled elites calmly and took a seat.
He looked good; even without expression, he naturally carried a cold aura and could hold his own in any situation.
Once the last elite had taken their seat, Mo Qin cleared his throat.
“Everyone knows why you were called here.”
“The situation at Rain Marsh Mountain is not as optimistic as I previously mentioned. Satellite monitoring shows the fissure continues to expand, and the mist covers an ever-widening area.”
“In a while, even satellites will no longer be able to observe what’s inside.”
His tone lost its usual levity, replaced by a coldness that sent chills down spines.
The reality of the situation was far graver than the rumors and was steadily moving beyond control.
They were certain now—the fissure in Rain Marsh Mountain was the link between the Void Realm and the Mortal Realm.
But what exactly was inside?
How many Demon Clan members had emerged?
What were their objectives?
They knew nothing.
The enemy hides in darkness; we stand in the light.
Aside from relocating nearby villages around Rain Marsh Mountain and surrounding the area with multiple layers of defense, they currently had no effective way to contain the situation.
“Does the mist affect ordinary people?” an Elder from the Bagua Sect asked.
Since the Bagua Sect’s Headmaster had passed away, and the new Headmaster was still handling internal affairs, this time a senior Elder with considerable influence was present.
The first disciples sent were from the Ji Family, which gave them the most say.
The Ji Family head spoke, “Ordinary people who inhale too much mist become extremely irritable, and prolonged exposure leads to mental disorders.”
Reports indicated that villagers at the foot of Rain Marsh Mountain were already affected.
In just one month, over ten violent brawls had occurred.
The once peaceful mountain village was now filled with fear.
Some even posted videos online showing the mist, claiming there were biochemical weapons in the mountains and villagers were already being killed.
This was also why the villagers didn’t strongly resist the evacuation orders.
Silence fell over the room again.
The situation was far more complicated than expected; this time the Demon Clan did not seem to be targeting only the cultivation world.
Bai Maomao exchanged a glance with Lang Junxian.
Lang Junxian gave a barely perceptible nod.
Bai Maomao understood immediately and, sticking to their prearranged story, said, “I might have a way to deal with the mist from Rain Marsh Mountain.”
All the elites turned to look at him.
Bai Maomao felt like he was being sieved but maintained a cold expression as he continued, “An ancient Half-Divine Artifact passed down from my ancestors can dispel illusions.”
“Artifact?” the elites focused sharply.
“Half-Divine Artifact,” Bai Maomao emphasized.
“May I ask where you hail from?” the Ji Family head inquired.
“The Qianji Sect. Our founder, Qian Jizi, has passed it down since ancient times,” Bai Maomao said earnestly, spinning a tall tale.
The elites frowned, pondering deeply.
Finally, they confirmed they had never heard of such a sect before and exchanged looks that clearly said, “Are you joking?”
Bai Maomao shrugged inwardly and coldly shifted his gaze to Mo Qin.
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