Chapter 291: Contact: Part 1
At the Moon Basin, the highest echelon of Carte Blanche.
In the expansive white space, there was no sky nor land but a floating city suspended right in the center. It looked like a huge basin when looking from above with seven purple ribands twirling around a dark vortex in the center. This vortex was continuously emitting tons of dark energy to suppress and seal a certain force field. In the middle of one of the purple ribands, a tall man, wearing a lunar-white, half-body armor, was walking toward the center.
“Azem, what are you doing here? You’re no longer a member of the Moon Basin!” A burly looking woman, wearing the same lunar-white, half-body armor, stepped out from the circular opening appearing on the white wall. She stopped the man right away, her eyes cold and laced with a concoction of emotions.
“Merrie, it’s you! Only you still keep my detector. You are always the first to know as soon as I step into the Moon Basin.” The man smiled and stopped in his tracks.
“What are you doing here? Answer me.” Out of nowhere, a long and dazzling spike appeared in Merrie’s hand. Strands of snake-like filaments were spinning around the spike.
“I-I’ve come to deliver a message for my lord.”
“Your lord?” Merrie’s heart sank, her expression changing as if she had thought of something. “Is the rumor true you have joined the Sevenlocks Tower?”
Azem did not reply. He lifted his arm and with the wave of his hand, he shot out a strand of black filament into the white wall. “This is the message. Whether it is you, the Heaven’s Spire, or the Hellfire, you all are getting the same message. What the Lord wants is written in there.”
“What is it? A warning?” A white-haired shadow appeared behind Azem on the passage.
“You all may treat this as a warning,” Azem said. “The Sevenlocks Tower does not want to delve into many matters, be it you or the Heaven’s Spire. Otherwise…”
“When the moon turns full round, you can try again. If we could have the first Battle of March, what prevents us from having the second?” The white-haired shadow said intimidatingly.
“The Battle of March?” Azem guffawed and said nothing more. During the Battle of March ninety years ago, his lord was injured, and the three mysterious realms almost destructed. Only the Sevenlocks Tower suffered the least casualty. So who was the winner here? MRA—the Mysterious Realm Alliance might seem like the winner. But then?
“We’ll see then.” Azem’s body slowly broke up into countless pieces, like a mirror cracked and shattered. They dropped and vanished.
Meanwhile, Merrie and the old man gazed at the spot where Azem had been, and no one said a word.
“Storm is rising again…” Auldmandiller sighed as he crumpled the letter in his hand. The paper turned into black ash and disappeared. “What is the Moon Basin’s decision? Something is going on in the Sevenlocks Tower. The Heaven’s Spire is ambitious. And the Hellfire is happy to be self-contented. We don’t know if the MRA could restructure itself.” He turned to look at his mate, Frendiman, behind him.
Frendiman was an old-fashioned scholar, a top professor who had a high academic credential in the Carte Blanche, and also a corrupt-class Darksider. Among the big three schools of dark energy: Corrupt, Violence, and Elusion, the Corrupt school was at the top of the pile. And the level of complexity of the corruptor school of dark energy far surpassed the others. So Frendiman deserved the reputation with his achievement, which came after his participation in the world-changing world war back then.
“The tide of suppression of the three mysterious realms didn’t just happen two days ago. Even if you can recover from your injury during the full moon, there won’t be an all-out war. Otherwise, there will be mutual destruction.”
Frendiman was more optimistic.
“The Sevenlocks Tower is our old opponent in the open, and this is a good thing. Instead, I’m more concerned with the terrorist groups who act in the dark. Things might get even messier by then.”
Auldmandiller nodded in agreement.
“The Sect of Verity, the Sect of Star Alias, and the Sect of Thousand Grace are the most noxious. We have launched many offensives against them. But they are elusive rodents, we have difficulty wipe them off.”
“The principal mentioned his intention to clean up Miga once again during the last meeting. Just that the perception of the Horcrux is troublesome,” Frendiman said.
“Troublesome? Every time we launched an offensive campaign, someone would leak the intel. Those who leaked information of this level are…”
“Mind your word!” Frendiman interrupted his friend, and his expression changed. The two remained silent for a while before Fendiman said again in a low voice, “Let’s not talk about this. Who will you bring for the next school meeting?”
“I have only two disciples,” replied Auldmandiller.
“Lin Sheng, the new guy? I heard that he had got over 500 units of dark energy in his initial awakening. He is a genius for sure.”
“There have been many new recruits who could achieve the same thing for the past five hundred years. No big deal.” Auldmandiller put up a pretentious waving hand, but deep inside, it flattered him.
Frendiman responded with a sneer, not wanting to pander to the old man’s hypocritical response. Instead, he got to his feet and went to the window, looking down the fortress.
In the sparring ring, students had gathered in a corner, watching an ongoing sparring session. Margaret wielded a slender sword, her every move as quick as lightning, striking at her opponent, Lin Sheng. And Frendiman recognized him, he was the recruit his friend mentioned.
Lin Sheng was on the defensive all the time. Green crystals constantly shrouded him and stopped Margaret’s relentless attack. Not so long after, the two stopped and bowed at each other after exhausting their dark energy.
“Awesome, Margaret. I lost. My dark energy could no longer keep up with you,” said Lin Sheng, pretending to gasp for air.
“Lin Sheng, you truly are the genius of the new students! With only one year older, you already display such an impressive strength!” Margaret pretended to sweat profusely.
The two of them sang praises of each other. Never mind the superfluous connotation, there was a subtle sense of appreciation for each other in their eyes. While they both knew that the other was hiding the real strength, they were confident of their own ability. And here it was, the melodrama.
The other awed students rose in loud applause. The postures and strength of the two during the sparring still lingered in their eyes.
Lin Sheng had been searching for the new bases of the Sect of Thousand Graces for the past days. But they were always one step ahead of Lin Sheng, constantly shifting the location of their bases. Lin Sheng had found four strongholds based on his memories. But each time he arrived, the place was empty. Frustrated, Lin Sheng returned to the Soul Fortress and continued his cultivation.
With no further exhaustion of stamina, his dark energy and holy power were increasing. But his bloodline stagnated. The good thing was, his Dragon blood was stable, at one-third of the stable level. His holy power had breached Level 9. And his dark energy was coming to the upper limit of Three Wings. By common standard, the lower ceiling of Three Wings was 2,000 and upper ceiling 20,000. It was a huge chasm to climb. The physique-changing dragon blood not only nourished the body but also benefitted the dark energy, Right now, Lin Sheng’s dark energy had reached the 18,000th level.