Gracie and the group reached a makeshift room made of mud and stone.
Some students were already in the room. When Gracie approached, people made way for her.
Seeing the bodies in front of her, Gracie was confused—they had no apparent injury marks.
"It's clean," Gracie stated, surprised.
She couldn't find anything that indicated the cause of their deaths.
"What could it be—was it natural death?" Sylas asked, his muscles bulging with every movement.
"I would've thought that—but four natural deaths in such a short period? It's not believable," Gracie dismissed the theory.
"Then how could someone die without any injury—and so silently that no other student noticed?" It was the question everyone wanted to ask, but only Sylas said it out loud.
Everyone had a fear. A fear of the unknown. A fear of something they can't control.
But there was also confidence—in powerful cultivators, in Gracie.
