Two days later, every Spirit Realm cultivator, including Celine, left the cavern. They gathered in silence, standing or sitting as they waited for Bruce to speak.
Kanoru sat at the head of the group, his expression calm, but his fingers lightly tapped against the armrest of his chair. He had sent Bruce to Fairie City to gather information about the incident that had shaken the Sacred Continent—literally.
That night, Kanoru had been on the wall, practicing. After some time, he sensed an elemental fluctuation from the golden plain, but he did not think much as a fight could break out at any moment around him. But then, an hour before dawn, everything changed.
A light rose from the center of the Golden Plain, piercing the crimson-tinged darkness. It burned like a second sun, its radiance turning the night sky into day for a fleeting moment. Then, the explosion followed.
The shockwave spread outward, vast and terrible. It shattered the silence, cracked the land, and widened the gorge separating the Red Tiger Forest from the Golden Plain. Even their own camp—far from the center—was torn apart. Though no one died, the sheer force of the blast left many injured, especially those below the Spirit Realm.
When the light of dawn finally broke over the horizon, Kanoru made his decision. He sent Bruce to Fairie City to uncover the truth.
Then, he waited.
For two days, an unnatural calm settled over the land. No large-scale elemental fluctuations. No distant battles shaking the heavens. But more importantly, no black fog.
No undead.
That alone told Kanoru something had happened to the Bone Clown.
The location of the explosion aligned too perfectly with where the Clown had occupied a city as his base. If that creature had truly fallen, then the greatest threat their world had ever faced might finally be gone.
That thought made Kanoru happy—happier than he had been in a long time.
So much so that if Bruce confirmed the Clown's death, Kanoru had already decided—he would stop cultivating for an entire week. He would relax, enjoy life, and spend time with his wives. It would be the longest break he had taken since he began cultivating at six years old.
A true celebration.
Now, Bruce had returned.
Inside Kanoru's tent, all Spirit Realm cultivators—along with Cecily and her group—waited in complete silence. Their gazes were fixed on Bruce. The weight of their expectations bore down on him like a physical force.
Pan Lian broke the silence first, her voice filled with impatience.
"Baby Bruce, don't leave us hanging! Tell us what happened!"
Bruce scanned the room, meeting the eyes of each cultivator before finally speaking.
"Micheal Sacer, Asenath, and Kaito Ken."
At the mention of those three names, murmurs erupted among the gathered cultivators.
"What happened to them?"
"Wait, isn't Sacer the surname of the royal family of the Sacred Empire?"
"Yeah! And I heard Micheal Sacer is the strongest in this continent!"
"How many runes did he form in his spiritual space?"
"I heard 94 light element runes."
"No, I heard 96!"
Someone scoffed. "Why are you all just guessing? Lord Cecily is here, and her surname is also Sacer."
All eyes turned to Cecily. She lifted her chin slightly, her pride evident.
"Ancestor formed 98 light element runes," she declared. "And I heard he was comprehending an alien light element energy source. If he succeeded, he would have been the first to form 100 runes of a single element in this continent."
A collective gasp spread through the tent.
"Really?!"
"Lord Cecily, I've also started following the sacred energy path. Do you think your ancestor would have accepted me as a disciple?"
Someone snorted. "Look at your face! How can you even ask such a thing?"
Laughter broke out, and cultivators playfully mocked each other.
Meanwhile, another group whispered among themselves.
"Asenath… I think I've heard of her."
"The most beautiful woman in the world."
"She's four times your age, idiot."
"You're always talking about looks! What about her essence? She's the second strongest in the Golden Continent!"
"How do you know that?"
"Her grandniece. I met her in Axel City two years ago. That's when I learned about her."
"If Commander could learn from her, his cultivation speed would increase even more!"
"Commander is the first in history to reach the Spirit Lord realm before the age of 50 without being from a millennial family."
"I bet he'll be the fastest to reach Spirit King before anyone else!"
As discussions about Asenath shifted to Kanoru, yet another group focused on the final name.
"Kaito Ken! Sword Master Ken!"
"Did anything happen to him?"
"What could happen to him? He's one of the five strongest in our continent!"
"Wait… did the three of them join forces to create that explosion?"
"If they did, then Spirit Kings are far stronger than we ever imagined… they shook the very foundation of the Sacred Continent."
As the murmurs and discussions grew louder, Kanoru observed in silence. His fingers tapped lightly against the wooden table, sending out a rhythmic sound wave. At first, it was barely noticeable, but gradually, it synchronized with the heartbeat of those speaking. And then—he clenched his fingers slightly.
A suffocating sensation gripped their chests. Conversations faltered, words caught in their throats as an invisible force tightened around their hearts. It was not enough to harm them, but the brief moment of breathlessness was more than enough to seize their attention.
Kanoru released them just as swiftly.
"Let Bruce speak." His voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that left no room for argument.
He nodded toward Bruce.
Bruce took a deep breath, then said, "Micheal Sacer, Asenath, and Kaito Ken. The three are dead."
Silence. Then—
"Why?"
"How?"
"When?"
Before Bruce could answer, Cecily suddenly strode forward, her movements swift and forceful. Grabbing Bruce by the collar, she lifted him with surprising strength, her silver eyes burning with disbelief.
"Tell me you're joking!"
Her voice carried the raw edge of desperation, of hope clinging to denial.
Kanoru's gaze darkened. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.
"Cecily, let him finish."
Cecily hesitated, then released Bruce with a frustrated huff. Bruce adjusted his collar, giving Kanoru a grateful glance before he continued.
"The explosion was because the three self-destructed."
Gasps filled the tent. Cecily staggered slightly, but she clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay steady.
"Why?" she demanded.
Bruce exhaled before answering. "Two days ago, ten Spirit Kings, each possessing 90 or more elemental runes in their spiritual world, launched an attack on Janus City—the Bone Clown's headquarters."
He let the weight of his words sink in before continuing.
"The reason for this assault was Commander's information about the Blood Sacrifice."
Bruce turned his gaze toward Kanoru.
Kanoru met the looks directed at him without flinching. He simply shrugged. "I only relayed the information I heard."
A heavy silence settled over the tent.
Bruce's voice remained steady as he revealed the final piece.
"But it was a trap. The Bone Clown was holding a Blood Sacrifice, but the intended sacrifices… was the Spirit Kings themselves."
Shock rippled through the crowd.
All eyes shifted back to Kanoru, searching for answers.
Kanoru merely leaned back. He had done his part—warned them, sent information, even sent the ashes of the Red Tiger for verification.
Their deaths were not his fault.
But sometimes, the truth did not matter.
Cecily leaped onto the table with a swift, furious motion, shoving her face mere inches from Kanoru's. Her silvery eyes burned with raw anger, grief twisting her features.
"If your false information is the reason behind Ancestor's death—I WILL KILL YOU!"
Kanoru remained seated, unfazed by her outburst. His gaze, calm and unwavering, met hers.
"Let him finish," he said, his voice firm.
Bruce took a breath, steadying himself before speaking. "It is not Commander's fault."
Cecily's fists clenched. "What do you mean?" she snapped.
Kanoru sighed. "We'll understand what he means if you let him finish first."
Bruce continued, "I don't know how, but after receiving Commander's information, the Spirit Kings realized the trap. They understood that the Bone Clown had set them up. But instead of retreating, they saw an opportunity—the trap meant for them could be turned against the Clown."
He let the words sink in before delivering the final blow.
"The three only had about a decade left to live. So, they chose to self-destruct, hoping to take the Bone Clown with them to the afterlife."
A wave of murmurs and hushed conversations erupted within the tent.
Kanoru let them talk for a few moments before silencing them once again. His gaze swept across the gathered cultivators, and then he asked the one question that mattered most.
"How is the Bone Clown?"
Cecily scoffed. "Did you not hear the explosion? Did you not see its aftermath? The Clown is surely dead."
Another cultivator added, "With the Clown dead, then we will surely win the war!"
"We should hold a celebration today!" someone else called out, and a few murmurs of agreement followed.
Another turned to Kanoru with a grin. "Commander, today, you have to join and not practice!"
Kanoru exhaled, rubbing his temple. "If the Bone Clown is dead today, we will hold a week-long party." His gaze hardened. "But first, let Bruce finish."
Bruce's next words dropped like a stone in the room.
"The Bone Clown is not dead."
Silence.
The celebratory mood drained instantly. Excitement was replaced with frustration and disappointment.
Bruce continued, "But he is seriously injured. For at least a decade, we won't have to worry about him."
A collective sigh filled the tent.
So close, yet still not enough.
Bruce then spoke again, shifting topics. "I also bring orders from Spirit King Elewyn. Starting tomorrow, we begin attacking the Golden Plain."
Kanoru nodded, immediately shifting his focus. "Everyone heard it. Start preparing for departure."
Cecily frowned. "What about us?"
Bruce shook his head. "I don't know."
Kanoru glanced at her and said, "Someone has to protect the node. Your team will handle that."
There was some further discussion, minor logistical details to iron out, but eventually, one by one, the cultivators began to leave the tent, their minds already shifting toward the next battle ahead.