Thousands of miles away.
Under the most famous volcano in the island nation.
A quiet shrine's basement.
In a secret chamber filled with white candles.
An old woman with white hair slowly opened her eyes.
Her plump figure resembled a ball of flesh.
Her wrinkled face bore the traces of time.
"Master, you've awoken,"
Seeing the old woman awaken, a dozen men dressed in ritual robes knelt in worship.
They were the most famous High Priests of this island nation, wielding unprecedented authority.
Yet, in front of others, they were like gods.
Now, each one trembled.
Their gazes towards the old woman held an innate submission.
"Chuanben Cilang is dead, and the demonic blade in his hands has shattered."
The old woman took a deep breath.
Her lips moved slightly, her voice not loud.
But upon hearing it, the faces of these men changed involuntarily.
"Master, have we obtained the dragon bone?"
One of them pondered for a moment and couldn't help asking.
