## Chapter 1438: The Third Sister and the Fourth

But as the aged figure, completely concealed within a sable cloak, extended a gnarled finger towards the water’s surface, a sudden surge of cerulean light erupted from the depths. In the blink of an eye, a blinding radiance consumed the pond, colliding with the elder’s outstretched hand.

There was no resounding boom, no shattering crack. Instead, a ripple of pure energy, a shimmering halo, spread outwards from the point of contact, washing over the cloaked figure and causing his garments to snap and flutter in its wake.

“I may choose to ignore your meddling with him, your ‘Moon in the Well’… but if you dare to extinguish his life, I believe…” A tranquil voice, imbued with immense power, emanated from within the azure glow, then paused for a breath before continuing.

“I will intervene.”

The cloaked elder remained silent for a long moment, then spoke in a voice rasped with age and weariness. “You are no match for my…”

“I can worsen your wounds,” the voice within the blue light responded, still calm, yet unwavering. The elder made no reply, sighing heavily after a considerable silence. His words echoed with a strange resonance. “We had an agreement…”

“You called upon me once, and I answered,” the azure voice countered. “Does your wife’s vessel mean nothing to you? Do not forget, you are one of the Five of Old.”

Silence descended within the blue light, heavy and profound. Then, with the cadence of ages and the weight of sorrow, the voice spoke once more, its echoes filling the grand hall.

“I am also a father.”

The hall remained hushed, the flickering candlelight the only sound, as if even the very air held its breath in contemplation.

“Only this once…” The cloaked elder slowly turned, retreating into the depths of the hall.

The well of cerulean light faded silently, returning the pond to its tranquil state.

“Good sir, might I entreat you for assistance?”

Outside the rift leading to the Ancient Burial Ground, amidst swirling, dense mists, Wang Lin’s footfall did not falter, nor did his purpose waver upon hearing the fair, melodious voice.

He proceeded as if deaf, uncaring. His form transformed into a streak of dazzling light, plunging headlong into the twisting, ethereal veil.

The fog itself was in constant flux, a chaotic tapestry of nothingness. As Wang Lin crossed its threshold, he seemed to sever his ties with the world, his aura vanishing completely. Before the startled gaze of a scholarly man, his figure dissolved into the twisting mist, lost within the fractured realm of the Ancient Burial Ground.

Wang Lin was no naive child, nor was he plagued by frivolous curiosity. He harbored no desire to assist others without understanding their motives. He sensed a potent danger emanating from the scholarly man, one who had traversed the perilous path to the rift’s edge, and wished to avoid any entanglement.

Even if the man had offered riches beyond measure, Wang Lin would have turned a deaf ear. His mind was clear, sharpened by the unsettling realization that his actions within the Ancient Star System had been influenced by an unseen force. He grew wary, convinced that his very thoughts had been subtly manipulated.

As the eerie youth vanished before his very eyes, the scholarly man furrowed his brow. Although he stood less than a hundred paces from the rift, his power and treasures could carry him no further.

Seeing the roiling mists grow increasingly violent, the man sighed, a sound heavy with regret. “It seems a direct assault upon the Burial Ground is impossible… The youth bore no mark upon his brow… His identity is now clear: one of the ancient gods. Perhaps he is the one who caused the demise of Seventh Sister’s avatar…”

With a flicker of his gaze, the scholarly man raised his hands, weaving a complex series of hand seals. The nine bald statues surrounding him shimmered with light. As he swept his hand through the air, the light intensified, forming a protective sphere around his form.

In a burst of ethereal radiance, a female figure emerged from within the fog. Her beauty was breathtaking, her hair cascading down her back. She wore garments of pure white, and her form possessed a translucent quality, revealing the nine streams of light swirling within her.

The moment she materialized, the mists surged towards her, invading her very being and leaving a faint mark upon her brow.

With a whispered sigh, the woman stepped forth, entering the hundred-pace distance to the Ancient Burial Ground rift.

As her figure vanished into the rift, the sphere of light faded, and the scholarly man retreated, his face pale. “I must send a fragment of my soul into the Ancient Burial Ground. The small god seems to be affected by the Moon in the Well. I must work with him, perhaps… First and Eighth Sister have been missing for years. Second Sister has allied herself to another. Even Fourth Sister, the cunning fox, has taken the fool Torsen… If I do not make alliances, I will be ostracized.” As the man reached the edge of the mist, he suddenly stopped. He looked up and saw through the fog.

From within the swirling mists, a low, bestial roar echoed, suffused with raw rage.

“I will come here of my own accord, even without your prodding! Silence, you harlot!”

A ripple of enchanting laughter followed the roar, a siren’s call laced with an intoxicating allure.

“Oh, must I be silent, you beast? Your rage only endears me to you further… Our union is far more…satisfying than that useless Immortal Emperor.”

A titanic form erupted from the mists, as large as a small star. But as it progressed, it grew smaller.

It was Torsen, his eyes bloodshot, a snarl contorting his features. He exuded a palpable aura of savage power as he charged, a prisoner of his own unbridled fury, about to burst past the scholarly man.

“Is this not the proud Third Sister? Has your virtue, your grace, not been enough to enter the ancient tomb?” The enchanting voice, laced with subtle mockery, echoed from the very core of Torsen’s being.

The scholarly man retreated with a sneer, and then spoke.

“Oh, how the old habits die hard. One can smell the stench of your corruption from miles away. And to think that once, Third Sister was a pure Saintess. What a waste. And once, too, the Emperor kept you as livestock. What a waste, as well. What will become of you?” Her figure was already drifting away.

The scholarly woman’s eyes flashed with ice, and she turned her back on the scene.

Within the Ancient Burial Ground rift, Wang Lin was assailed by a powerful teleportation force. Before he could assess his surroundings, his instincts screamed a warning. He stumbled back, weaving a protective barrier of light around his form, a radiant echo of himself.

His caution proved warranted. A moment later, a thunderous impact shook the air, as a powerful force slammed into his glowing shield.

Wang Lin’s forethought had saved him. The barrier of light erupted, deflecting the force, and a muffled groan signaled a hasty retreat from the shadows.

Now, Wang Lin could finally survey his surroundings. Though the landscape bore a semblance to the mist-shrouded plains he had glimpsed outside the rift, it was clear this was an entirely different realm.

As soon as they entered, they were scattered to the winds.

The sky was cloaked in perpetual twilight, and the ground was a swirling sea of impenetrable fog, like the gaping maw of some slumbering beast.

Floating in the sky were shattered stones. Each platform had a head upon it. There were too many platforms to count.

Before him stood a Daoist, who began to retreat. It was the man who had attacked him. His face was pale.

Dozens of other people were looking at Wang Lin. They began to retreat.

The air was filled with the smell of blood, from countless murders.

Further away, some people seemed to be trying to walk upon the stones. The platforms seemed to be warded by some strange power. Hundreds of people were in the area, though it did not seem crowded.