The sky had cracked open with a ray of pale-golden light, pouring from a spiral of clouds like the hand of a god pointing to treasure. Every cultivator within three provinces had seen it. Word spread faster than sound: the legacy of the Puppet Master had revealed itself.
And like hungry dogs to thrown bones, they ran.
---
Far beneath that holy beacon, deep in the moss-covered belly of the Withered Fang Forest, three men tore through the undergrowth—mud on their robes, sweat on their brows, swords trembling in their fists.
"Whose brilliant idea was this again?!" roared the one in the front, a lanky man with patchy facial hair and eyes that screamed regret.
"Don't look at me!" barked the short one with a crooked nose. "You said—you said, 'Let's go early as we got seceret map for shortcut to the legacy, beat the crowd by arriving inside first, get the loot, become rich, find hot wives!' I just nodded!"
