Deep beneath layers of stone and formation arrays, a dark seclusion chamber lay sealed off from the world.
A gathering had formed.
At the head of the stone table sat Li Jianhong and Zhao Wutian, their expressions composed, eyes sharp and calculating.
Several other figures occupied the remaining seats—clan heads, sect elders, and shadowed representatives who rarely showed their faces in daylight.
Then—
Bang!
The stone table cracked.
A terrifying pressure surged outward as the Shen Clan Leader slammed his palm down, his face contorted with rage.
"Failed?!"
He roared.
"You're telling me the assassination failed?!"
Several figures frowned but remained silent.
His gaze swept across the table like a blade.
"I warned you, Zhao Wutian!" he growled. "For me to join your alliance, you needed to kill Bai Zihan."
The atmosphere turned suffocating.
"Brother Shen," Zhao Wutian said calmly, raising one hand slightly. "There's no need to lose composure."
