Chapter 5503

A chorus of grateful voices echoed across the Soul Convergence Altar. Cultivators surged toward the gold-robed cultivator, bowing and scraping as if salvation itself wore his embroidered sleeves. None of them sensed the invisible pit yawning beneath their feet, a pit dug with missing fragments of their own souls.

The Edison lifted one modest hand, pretending humility. Yet a needle-thin gleam of cruelty flickered behind his lashes.

Their spiritual flow will sour soon enough. When their strength withers and their minds go dull, they will feed my Soul Urn to the brim.

The thought curled his lips into a chill, private smile.

“Fools.” The single word, low and blade-sharp, drifted from a shadowed corner. Jared’s voice sliced through the false jubilation like steel through silk, every syllable ringing with disdain.

The word crashed over the altar-a clap of thunder on a clear day-shattering the veneer of harmony and leaving an uneasy hush in its wake.

Heads snapped around. Gratitude soured to hostility. Eyes that had glowed with devotion toward Edison now burned with anger at the man who had dared disturb their moment.