The group froze, exchanging puzzled glances.
“What did he say?”
Diana leaned closer, her tone quiet and conspiratorial. “The man said he doesn’t remember anything. He only recalls wandering into the jungle, getting lost, and fainting from hunger. When he woke up, he stumbled down the mountain in a daze. To him, it felt like only a single night had passed. But outside, fifty years had gone by. When they examined him, they found his body was still that of a man in his twenties, but his memories were frozen fifty years in the past.”
“Strange things like this happen all over the world,” she added, “we just don’t know about them.”
Lacey frowned, skeptical. “I’ll admit there are things in this world that defy explanation. But we didn’t time travel. That building just looks old-fashioned. Let’s go up there and take a look. We’ll know for sure.”
“Diana, stop talking,” Lacey snapped.
Diana stuck out her tongue, feigning innocence.
Their conversation continued as they moved toward the massive structure ahead. All of them had experience dealing with antiques and strange stories, so they weren’t strangers to such tales.
“If you ask whether Dragonsleep is haunted,” one of them mused, “the answer would obviously be yes.”
“Hey! Do you see that? There’s someone over there,” someone suddenly exclaimed, pointing ahead.
Two figures appeared on the path in front of them.
“Hey!” a girl from their group called out. But the two figures didn’t respond, continuing forward as if they hadn’t heard.
Their movements were swift, almost as if they were gliding through the dense forest.
Lacey’s brows furrowed. That figure… it looked familiar.
She stared at the man’s back, her heart skipping a beat.
Was it him? Could it really be that person?
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her thoughts. It had been so long since she’d seen that silhouette. It had to be an illusion. How could he possibly be here, in the middle of this wilderness?
—
Inside the Nightshade Hall
Today was a significant day for the Nightshade. The grand square outside the hall was packed with people, all fully armed and alert, as if preparing for battle.
These were no ordinary disciples. Among them stood the four Grand Lords of the Nightshade-figures of immense stature within the sect.
At the forefront of the gathering stood a man clad in a black robe, his face obscured by a mask. His imposing presence radiated authority and power. This was Lord Firestone, the acting master of the Nightshade.
Beside him stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman in a flowing gown. The soft breeze made her dress sway gently, accentuating her flawless figure and serene posture. Her face, however, was clouded with worry, her expression heavy with unspoken thoughts.
The disciples gathered in the square wore grim expressions, their hearts pounding in anticipation. For the Nightshade, this level of tension was unprecedented. Many of them had never experienced such a state of unrest since joining the sect.
Their eyes darted toward the platform, where legendary figures of the sect stood resolute. The four Grand Lords, revered as living legends, had not stepped out of seclusion for years. There was a saying within the sect: the Grand Lords only emerged when the Nightshade faced a grave threat.
And now, the threat had not even arrived, yet the Grand Lords were already here.
There was no doubt-something monumental was about to happen.
Who could possibly pose such a danger to the Nightshade, a sect with a history spanning a hundred years?
Firestone turned slightly, his gaze falling on the four Grand Lords behind him. In a low, respectful voice, he said, “My deepest apologies for disturbing your cultivation, Grand Lords. I would never have done so if the situation weren’t critical.”
Though Firestone held the title of acting master, he remained humble before the four elders, whose influence far surpassed his own. These were the highest-ranking members of the sect, second only to the true master. Firestone, by comparison, was merely a junior temporarily filling the role.
The eldest of the Grand Lords stroked his long beard thoughtfully. “No need to apologize. If the Nightshade is in danger, we will naturally take action. I’m curious to see who dares challenge us in our own domain.”
Despite their advanced age, the pride of the Grand Lords burned as fiercely as ever. Though they were now over a century old, their fighting spirit remained undiminished.
To them, the idea of anyone defeating the Nightshade was laughable. This was a sect with a hundred years of unshakable history. And with the combined strength of the Grand Lords, whose mastery had reached unparalleled levels, no ordinary foe could hope to prevail here.
Firestone felt a surge of confidence as he looked at the four elders. With their presence, the Nightshade would surely remain invincible.
Yet, a flicker of doubt lingered in his mind. What if the enemy didn’t show up?
If this was all a bluff-if the enemy simply issued a threat and never followed through-then all of this preparation would be for nothing.
The thought unsettled him. This was a rare opportunity to make his mark, to rise in rank and become a branch head. Could such a chance really slip away so easily?
Turning to Mags, Firestone asked, “Has he arrived yet?”
Mags shook her head. “Not yet, my lord. Perhaps we should inform the higher-ups. This matter concerns them as well. If we fail and the hostage is rescued, it could jeopardize their plans. That wouldn’t bode well for us.”
Firestone’s expression darkened. “Mags, are you seriously suggesting we let fear undermine us at a time like this?”
“My lord-”
“Enough!” Firestone cut her off sharply. “I don’t want to hear another word of doubt. What I need from you is silence. Watch and see how that man meets his end. If he dares step into the Nightshade, he’ll leave in pieces.”
With a flourish, Firestone spread his arms wide, exuding absolute confidence. The entire area surrounding the Nightshade had been fortified with layers of traps and defenses. If the enemy dared to come, he would be annihilated.
“Brilliant strategy, Lord Firestone!” one of the elders exclaimed, sharing his confidence.
Mags glanced at the elder, hesitating to speak. But the elder continued, “Mags, don’t worry. The traps are set. If he steps foot here, he won’t leave alive.”
His voice carried a chilling undertone.
Mags swallowed hard. “You’d better hope you succeed,” she muttered under her breath.
She knew the man they were waiting for too well. He was a living nightmare, a demon of unmatched ruthlessness. The Nightshade was far too arrogant, far too convinced of its own invincibility. They would pay dearly for their hubris.
Of course, Mags didn’t want the Nightshade to fall. But she secretly hoped the man would teach them a lesson.
As they all waited anxiously, the silence was suddenly broken by a strange noise echoing from the misty mountain path.
What was that sound?
Everyone heard it.
A low, eerie wail drifted through the air.
Woooo… woooo…