In Northern Frontier’s Rose Cloud Sect, the sect leader brandished Aurelius’ scroll before the elders.

“Celestia has fallen, and demonic souls are wreaking havoc. If we continue to turn a blind eye, we will be the next to fall.

Ready every disciple. We will head toward Roaring Storm Church!”

In Western Frontier’s Myriad Beast Valley, Talon, too, was reading the scroll.

The fur along his arms bristled as his amber eyes narrowed. “The demons have always been brutally ambitious. If level six falls into their claws, every beast race will be at their mercy. Inform every tribe leader to bring their elites to Roaring Storm Church. It’s time to fight together against the demonic souls!”

Across the shadow-drenched Dark Forest, beast race cultivators who had fled in panic only hours before now raced back together, feet thudding through fallen leaves like distant drums.

One massive bear beast cultivator clenched calloused fists, his breath smoking in the cold air. “Celestial is already done for, and we can’t keep running away,” he roared. “It’d be better to follow King Aurelius and tear the demonic souls apart!”