The night was as black as ink, blanketing a stretch of hills in eastern Qingyang County.
Three black-clad figures flitted across the mountain path like phantoms, their speed astonishing.
The leader had a sinister face and an aura so cold it chilled to the bone. He was Liu Han, an Elder of the Netherworld Pavilion.
Following him were two Stewards, both at the Late Stage of Fourth Grade.
"Elder Liu, the Qingxuan Sect's Spirit Iron mine is about three miles ahead."
A Steward spoke in a low voice, his gaze fixed on the faint outline of a mountain in the distance.
Liu Han gave a slight nod, a murderous glint flashing in his cold eyes.
"Make it quick. Leave no survivors."
The three figures moved again, darting toward the mine.
However—
Just as they were about to reach the mine.
Several figures emerged from the darkness like specters, blocking their path.
