Spirit Immortal Chapter 591 - The Prince Of Water's Eldest Son (2)

The Neutral Lands. The Abyss, former location of Mythpoint Reach.

An immense elk trudged through the lush forest that it called home, happily grazing whatever gra.s.s that it came across. Its horns dug deep into the ground while its muscular legs supported its hefty body off the ground. The earthen musk of soil hugged the elk's nose like a koala bear, not willing to let go in the slightest. With a happy and innocent heart, the elk continued to graze, not one concerned about its own safety. It trekked further and further, unaware of its surroundings and it didn't notice that it had long broken through its territory.

The last tree past by the elk and it marked the end of the verdant forest. Finally realising its error, the elk glanced up, watching the scenery unfold right before its eyes. Gone were the healthy greenery and boisterous forest sounds. Burnt, blackened land laid before the animal with numerous darkness beasts meandering mindlessly like zombies.

Frightened, the elk attempted to run. It needed to get back to the lush land that it so desired and loved. Alas… It had wandered a step too far.

An obsidian human hand with a serpentine arm emerged from the blackened soil. Like a coiled cobra, the hand struck forward, grabbing hold of the elk before it could even make the first leap. In no time at all, the elk was dragged into the Abyss without mercy. It put up a decent struggle, but the force of the hand of darkness was far too strong for any being to endure.

Darkness. That was the first thing the poor animal saw and felt within the Abyss. A vast hole that was shrouded by thick, black smog, barring anyone vision of its interior. In the ten years since the Allfather dragged Mythpoint Reach into the darkness, not a single soul had managed to enter or leave the Abyss alive. No energy beam… No armies… Heck, not even the world's strongest Spirit Saint, the Himmel Ancestor, was capable of breaching through the defences of the Abyss. In the end, the Alliance could only helplessly leave the Abyss alone.

However, that didn't mean that no one was monitoring the Abyss. It was akin to a dormant volcano. Mostly calm and serene, but when the time comes… It was certain to erupt in a catastrophic event, one akin to the Worldquake that brought the three superpowers to heel. Thus, Alliance Head Raphael had a.s.signed a large portion of his personnel to stand watch over the eternal dark hole.

But for the most part, the Abyss had long become an afterthought for many civilians. Occasionally, it would sp.a.w.n Umbras that would terrorise the region, but they were quickly muscled down by the Alliance members that patrolled nearby. In fact, the most dangerous place in the entire planet was no longer Mythpoint Reach, but the random cracks that spewed out Umbras ever so often.

In time, the location of the former Mythpoint Reach had become a safe haven for fauna and flora to flourish once again, and the Neutral Lands were slowly coming back to shape… Less the Abyss in the centre of the world, of course.

The lifeless body of the elk continued to freefall down like a meteor as the dark mist wreathed all around it. It took about a full two minutes for it to finally break free of the darkness and plop right at the centre of a concrete platform. Nine floating towers were floating about, creating an ominous aura that was chokingly thick. A few hundred metres away from the concrete slab, a ma.s.sive tree, possibly a kilometre tall, stood unblemished like a towering giant. Immense spiritual energy was pulsating out from its inner core, and anyone who laid their eyes on the structure would feel like their souls were being scoured from head-to-toe.

Surprisingly enough, at the bottom of the Abyss, Mythpoint Reach was still safe and sound! All Nine Payircis were intact, and the Tree of Darkness that protected the structure was utterly unscratched!!!

"Ahahaha!!! We've caught some elk, boys!" A sleazy man licked his lips, slapping the hind of the ma.s.sive deer. "No more tasteless vegetables and fish for us! We can finally have the sweet, succulent taste of red meat!!!"

"Hehe, an elk's a rare catch!" Another man salivated while rubbing his palms.

"Call Mycaene! We're going to have a feast tonight!!!" The man hollered out, lifting his weapon in cheer.

While all of the commotions was going on, two distinct figures glanced down at the gleeful Black Masks. They both wore luxurious black clothing that were well-ironed and well designed, much unlike the poor souls that were licking their lips over some catch. However, neither of them judged the hungry men for being sloppy. Instead, they universally heaved out a sigh.

"This isn't good… The morale of the youngsters is getting quite low..." The first Brahmin, Seymour Fielder, the Sword Baron, closed his eyes in agony.

"There's no helping it. Cooping up in the bottom of the well doesn't fit well for some people..." His buddy, Meijing Xuenkai, replied with a heavy heart. "We have a near-endless supply of vegetation and chicken meat. If need be, we could even fish from the nearby ocean. But ultimately, humans aren't meant to be confined like this. Especially those that hadn't transcended the first barrier of mortality..."

The Black Masks consisted of many different levels, the weakest being the Dalits that blindly followed whatever the Allfather wished for. They were just regular humans with the slightest bit of cultivation. Therefore, they required the same bodily needs as any other mortal. Those with higher ranks, such as Rank 40 Spirit Spectres, could last for many days without food or drink and the most powerful ones of them all… Rank 80 Spirit Venerates and above… They could simply live on pure spiritual energy alone.

Ten years wasn't a long time for those monsters that reached the apex of the cultivation world as many of them could simply go into closed-door cultivation. However, the weaker members of the Black Masks are starting to turn delirious. They yearned for the outside world, for fresh air and water. To no longer see the same dark walls constantly and to reach for the skies carrying the Black Mask emblem.

Alas, the Allfather was still in hibernation, making that ask all but impossible.

"We can't even use a submarine to ferry them out?"

"No, we can't… You know that we don't have that kind of authority, right?" Meijing Xuenkai brushed off his buddy's ludicrous idea.

"But who has?! The other Nine Coloured n.o.ble Beasts were also trying to become stronger through their own means and hadn't emerged from their cultivations! In Mythpoint Reach, we are the only ones that hold some form of authority!" The Sword Baron argued.

Among all of the Spirit Venerates that joined the criminal syndicate, only Seymour had formerly held a major military role. He knew more than anyone else the importance of keeping the morale high, particularly when the ch.i.p.s were down. If the Black Masks were to keep trotting down this path, it was only a matter of time before the younger soldiers burnt out and lost all focus about their objective.

"Hmph! If you have the guts, say that to either one of the Nine Coloured n.o.ble Beasts!" Meijing Xuenkai snorted. However, in truth, the Brahmin was somewhat moved by the proposition. He was a warrior, one that dominated his own era through overwhelming power. Meijing Xuenkai wasn't the type to remain in one spot, hibernating while his enemies trampled all over him. If he had the power, the man would unquestionably march out of Mythpoint Reach to combat high-levelled cultivators particularly those from the Lantis Republic.

"I..." Astonished, the Sword Baron furrowed his brows. In terms of power, the Brahmins were still unable to outmatch the influence of the Nine Coloured n.o.ble Beasts. In the Allfather's absence, their word was law. Unfortunately, none of them wanted to go against their mighty overlord's orders. "Tsk, we already wasted ten long years… How long more must we wait?"

Yes, the Allfather has been recovering from his substantial attack on the Terre Continent as well as casting the Call of Darkness. The Black Masks had survived an all-out attack from the Alliance consisting of six Spirit Saints as well as the invincible weapon, the Ray of Hope. In those ten years that they were hiding, every single one of the Black Masks consolidated their own cultivation, slowly becoming stronger and stronger. Some of them had even grown powerful enough to earn the Brahmin mask.

However…

They were still stuck in a cage…

"I..."

[Don't worry about that...]

Before Meijing Xuenkai could issue a reb.u.t.tal, a sombre voice echoed out in their brains. A cloaked figure emerged from the Tree of Darkness and took the empty spot behind the two Brahmins. There was no spiritual pressure coming out from the levitating reaper, but an endless amount of dread and fear crept up Seymour and Xuenkai's spines. It felt like they were an ant looking up at a human, a tree facing up against a mountain… They were just far too inferior to the being that emerged, and the Spirit Venerates could feel it in their core.

Slamming down to their knees, the Brahmins kowtowed to their supreme leader.

"We greet the Allfather!!!"

[Mmmm… Rise.]

The shadow raised his left arm, and an invisible force pushed the two Spirit Venerates up.

[I see that you have some complaints about me...]

"I-I wouldn't dare!" Seymour stuttered, his voice was shaking with fear. Had the Allfather already reverted back to his original strength? If he did… There was no saying what he would do to Seymour.

[No, they're not unfounded… I have been sleeping for a little too long.]

The Allfather wasn't angry. Instead, his voice held a tinge of remorse and pity. He glanced up at the roof made of dark mist and the nine lights that were rus.h.i.+ng down towards him. The Black Masks had been sleeping alongside him for far too long now. Many of them were repressed, particularly the strongest members of them all. However… It was all going to change.

Today.

[Ten years… I've been sleeping for ten long years… I wonder how much the outside world has grown in my absence… I wonder how much… You have grown in my absence, s.h.i.+n Iofiel.]

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