Chapter 328: Inside the Gate (2)

Interested, Kyrian approached the coffin.

But that coffin seemed clean. There were no traces of Qi flowing around it, nor warning symbols carved into its surface. It was just a block of stone, silent and inert.

On his way back to the Blood Court, he had found this. Perhaps the tomb contained something useful, a forgotten treasure, an ancient scroll, or at least some spiritual stones that could aid him in his future journeys.

Stone scraped against stone, a rough sound that echoed through the chamber walls. Millennia-old dust rose into the air, making Kyrian cough lightly.

There were only bones.

But on the bones of the right hand, something gleamed.

Kyrian picked it up carefully. It was a simple ring, made of a dark metal he did not recognize. There were no symbols or inscriptions. Just a circle of metal, polished by time.

The internal space was vast, much larger than he expected for such an ancient ring. And it was full.

Then, the spiritual herbs. Dozens of them, stored in jade boxes to preserve their effectiveness. Kyrian recognized some rare herbs he had only seen mentioned in ancient scrolls. Others were completely unknown to him.

Jade plaques. Dozens of them, stacked neatly. Kyrian knew what that meant, cultivation techniques and battle techniques. For any other cultivator, those plaques would be the most valuable treasure in the ring.

Kyrian was studying the contents of the ring when a sound pulled him from his concentration.

Kyrian raised his head, his crimson eyes glowing in the darkness. He slipped the ring onto another finger and turned toward the entrance.

“Damn it! The barrier disappeared earlier than expected!”

“Some bastard got into the tomb!”

The sound of footsteps echoed through the stone chamber for several endless seconds.

The first was a young man who looked to be around twenty years old, with black hair tied in a high bun and wearing an immaculate white robe. On the chest of the robe, embroidered in silver threads, was the symbol of a white tower, three spires rising toward the sky. His face was handsome but twisted by an expression of barely contained fury.

Both exuded spiritual pressure.

The two looked at Kyrian, and their eyes ran over his dark-red robe. The young man’s expression changed. Fury gave way to momentary surprise, which quickly turned into scorn.

“HAHAHA! I thought I was unlucky when I felt the barrier fall.” He said, shaking his head.

He took a step forward, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“And not just any trash, one from the Blood Court.”

“Who are you?” Kyrian asked, his voice calm despite the tension in the air.

“You don’t need to know, since you’re going to die here.” He paused, as if savoring the words.

He lifted his chin.

’White Tower?’ Kyrian thought, recalling where he had heard that before.

The young man advanced.

The blade came down toward Kyrian’s throat.

Kyrian did not retreat.

In the blink of an eye, a massive blood spear formed. Kyrian wielded it as if it were an extension of his own body, blocking the sword strike with a metallic crash.

And then Kyrian pushed.

The middle-aged man had a sour expression on his face.

“He is only at the 1° stage of Core Formation, but look at his eyes.” He pointed with his chin toward Kyrian.

“Tch.”

“I noticed.” He said, his teeth grinding.

His eyes locked onto Kyrian again, and the hatred in them seemed to triple.

But he knew one thing. They would not let him leave that place alive.

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