The subterranean vault beneath the lower archives smelled of heavy sulfur, stale parchment, and old copper.
High Priest Gui stood on the raised stone dais before a wide circle of nineteen inner pavilion elders.
These men, who had sat in judgment over commoner disciples on Sovereign Peak for decades, unbuckled their pristine white silk robes, letting the embroidered garments fall onto the dusty floorboards.
Sssssssss.
Etched across the chest of every single elder was a writhing, pitch black tattoo shaped like a crescent moon drenched in weeping blood.
The dark ink pulsed with a rhythmic, sickening light that matched the energetic frequency of the abyssal pool beneath the mountain.
"The time for hiding behind your white robes has passed, brothers," High Priest Gui spoke, his voice carr
