Then, he turned to Hu Mazi, his expression darkening: “Master Hu, you certainly have some nerve, don’t you? Sneaking off without a word to the Seventh Heaven, with your level of strength, you nearly lost your soul just now!”
His tone carried a hint of reproach, but it was overshadowed by concern for Hu Mazi.
Hu Mazi scratched his head, his face full of guilt: “I didn’t want to worry you, and I also wanted to find my clansmen’s soul spirits sooner…”
His voice trailed off smaller and smaller, like a child who had done something wrong.
“Worried about me? You running off to a place this dangerous alone is what truly worries me!”
Chen Ping sighed, his tone softening a bit. “First, tell me what you’ve uncovered. What exactly is going on?”
His eyes brimmed with concern, hoping Hu Mazi would recount the full details of the events.
Hu Mazi hurriedly relayed everything he had overheard in the teahouse and witnessed at the altar, especially the matter of the temple stealing cultivators’ souls under the guise of an altar opening. He spoke through gritted teeth: “Those cultivators thought they were attending a lecture for cultivation, not realising it was a death trap! If we had discovered it a few days later, who knows how many more would have had their souls extracted!”
His voice was filled with fury, like a lion roused to anger.
Chen Ping’s face grew increasingly grave.
For the temple, as an organisation of the divine race, to collude with demonic cultivators and harm fellow cultivators like this, if word spread, the entire heavenly realm would descend into turmoil.
In his mind, visions arose of the heavenly realm plunged into chaos, countless cultivators perishing amid the flames of war, and the common folk displaced and destitute.
He fully understood the gravity of the situation and knew they must swiftly halt the temple’s conspiracy.
“Come on, let’s head to the Soul-Gathering Altar. We need to uncover exactly how they are extracting the souls.”
His eyes gleamed with resolute determination, like an immovable mountain peak.
The two found a clothing shop, changed into the coarse black robes commonly worn by Seventh Heaven cultivators, and used spiritual energy to subtly alter their appearances. Posing as rogue cultivators come to attend the lecture, they made their way towards the Soul-Gathering Altar.
Their steps were steady and resolute, each one driven by a pursuit of the truth and an unyielding commitment to justice.
The Soul-Gathering Altar stood upon a high platform at the heart of Black Wind City, surrounded by throngs of cultivators, most of them there to bolster their cultivation or hoping to join the temple. Their faces were alight with anticipation.
Their eyes reflected a deep yearning for cultivation, hoping to achieve a breakthrough during this lecture.
At the centre of the platform stood a cultivator in a golden robe, holding a jade ruyi as he proclaimed loudly: “Fellow daoists, today’s altar opening for the lecture is to draw the profound qi of heaven and earth into your bodies, aiding everyone in breaking through bottlenecks! Simply quiet your minds and concentrate, following my guidance!”
His voice boomed with resonance and charisma, as if imbued with a magical allure that drew the surrounding cultivators into a trance.
Chen Ping quietly released a thread of divine sense, sweeping over the platform.
His divine sense was like an invisible hand, gently probing everything around it.
Soon, he detected something amiss: beneath the platform lay a ring of black runes, emanating a sinister aura, as if concealing countless secrets.
The runes connected to a hidden groove at the platform’s centre, where a faint scent of soul jars lingered.
Moreover, the jade ruyi in the golden-robed cultivator’s hand emitted a subtle hypnotic aura, gradually lulling the surrounding cultivators into lowered vigilance.
That hypnotic aura was like an invisible thread, quietly winding around the cultivators and drawing them unwittingly into a slumber.
“Watch the cultivators’ brow centres closely.”
Chen Ping spoke to Hu Mazi in a voice only the two of them could hear. His tone was low and enigmatic, as if wary of alerting something.
Hu Mazi focused his gaze and saw that, from the brow centres of those cultivators with eyes closed in concentration, faint blue soul threads were slowly drifting out, slithering along the direction of the jade ruyi and quietly slipping into the groove beneath the platform.
