From his position high above, Ethan had a clear view of the rocky outcrop below. Nothing escaped his eyes.
The Dissenter personnel stationed there weren’t particularly busy; they looked more like bored security guards than guards of so sacred ritual.
But six of them stood out. Ethan’s attention sharpened as he sensed strange fluctuations coming from their bodies—draconic energy.
That faint, almost imperceptible aura was the sa dragon energy he’d been detecting all day. Each of the six wore a white robe that looked specially made. The fabric had so kind of property that completely blocked Soul Sense detection.
When Ethan swept his awareness over them, it was like water hitting a raincoat—it slid right off.
He let out a quiet chuckle. "Heh... materials like that exist?" It was the first ti he’d encountered sothing that could completely deflect his Soul Sense. The discovery was both surprising and intriguing.
Then, as if waiting for so silent signal, the six figures moved. Each took a position at one of the six points of the star-shaped formation etched into the ground.
The other Dissenter mbers began moving as well, opening the gates at both ends of the floating bridge.
The crowd waiting on the opposite side—those eager to take part in the so-called Pilgrimage Assembly—rushed forward the mont the path was clear.
Of course, every one of them paid a fee to cross.
Before long, over five hundred people had stepped onto the rocky outcrop and were herded into the center of the six-pointed star.
Hum...
There was no hesitation. The mont their feet touched the formation, the runes beneath them began to glow with a purple light.
The six white-robed figures raised their hands and began a synchronized series of gestures, their fingers moving rapidly as they perford so kind of secret technique to activate the array.
The ordinary participants simply stared at the runes beneath them, faces lit by the glow, their eyes filled with a mix of fear and awe.
"Everyone, stay calm," one of the Dissenter guards called out. "You all saw the hurricane and massive waves to the south earlier. The teleportation array is the only way to reach that area safely."
The reassurance worked on so of the newcors, though a few still looked uneasy. Others remained calm, clearly veterans of this event. They smirked at the frightened ones, conveniently forgetting they’d worn the sa expression during their own first visit.
Ethan, however, wasn’t buying it.
He rembered that woman on the ship saying almost the sa thing. So, when he’d first arrived at Sacred Sea Island with Amber, he had quietly used his Soul Sense to scan the southern seas.
There had been no hurricane, no massive waves—nothing at all.
The entire spectacle was fake. Not an illusion, exactly, but a long-term, four-dinsional projection.
A single floating buoy, equipped with a high-grade holographic projector, created the entire scene to deceive tourists.
Visitors had marveled at what they believed were the wonders of nature, snapping pictures of the towering waterspout ten miles away—never noticing that there was no wind or spray around them. They took photos on the calm shore, thinking themselves brave for standing so close to disaster.
Now, as the glow from the six-pointed star grew brighter, Ethan decided it was ti. He shut down his ch’s power systems and dropped silently from the air, landing directly on the rocky outcrop.
Hum...
The mont his boots touched the surface, the light from the array flared violently—then, all at once, darkness swallowed everything.
In the blink of an eye, the five hundred people standing within the formation were gone. Ethan, hitching a ride among them, disappeared as well.
For a mont, the outcrop was silent. Then one of the white-robed figures spoke, his voice low.
"How many this ti?"
The man with the goatee—the sa one Ethan had noticed earlier—answered promptly. "Five hundred twenty-seven, sir. Why do you ask?"
"You’re certain?" The hooded figure’s eyes glead from the shadow of his cowl.
"Absolutely. Five hundred twenty-seven people paid for tickets. Here’s the registration—"
The goateed man stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting.
"Wait... we sent off five hundred twenty-eight."
A cold silence fell. Then, from among the white-robed figures, one spoke. His voice was low and distorted, like tal scraping against tal.
"Five hundred twenty-eight?"
The words alone made the air feel heavier. Everyone froze.
Ery Shaw’s eyes flickered with alarm. He already knew who that extra person was.
Who else could it be but Ethan?
"Go check," the lead white-robed figure barked. "Find out which tourist is missing!"
"Sir," Ery spoke quickly, cutting in before anyone could move. "If soone was able to infiltrate this place without being noticed, they wouldn’t have joined the tourists. I suggest notifying the masters on the other side instead. Let them handle it—identify and eliminate the intruder. That would be the safest approach."
He kept his tone respectful, careful.
He knew that if they actually started investigating, Ethan’s absence would be discovered—and Amber, still on the island, would definitely be detained.
Ethan might not have been a close friend, but they had history. And more importantly, the people backing Ery held Ethan in high regard.
In truth, he and Ethan stood on the sa side.
Winning Ethan’s trust was exactly what those people wanted. And if Ery managed to do that, the rewards would follow.
The last ti he’d completed one of their tasks, they’d given him a strange orb that enhanced his abilities—granting him the power to dissolve into mist. The experience had been terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
If he could keep evolving... who knew what he might beco?
The other Dissenter personnel, who had been about to act, stopped after hearing his suggestion. All eyes turned toward the lead white-robed figure.
After a long mont, the man gave a slow nod.
"We’ll handle this matter. Return to your duties."
With that, he and the other white-robed figures turned and drifted away into the shadows.
Only when they were gone did the air finally feel breathable again. The Dissenter guards exhaled in relief.
The goateed squad leader walked up to Ery, clapping him on the shoulder with a crooked grin.
"You’re sothing else, kid. Just got here and already daring to talk back to those masters. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that!
Last ti, one of our brothers tried to argue with them, and he was... well, let’s just say it didn’t end well. You’re lucky. Judging by how fast they left, this is no small issue.
Still, you saved us a lot of work tonight. Otherwise, we’d have been running around till morning. Co on, we’re grabbing a drink."
The tension broke instantly. The crew laughed, slapping shoulders and linking arms as they crossed the floating bridge back to Sacred Sea Island.
Ery followed along, smiling faintly, though unease churned in his chest.
Later that night, when the drinking was in full swing and everyone was half-conscious, soone finally told him what had happened to the "brother" the captain had ntioned.
That man hadn’t been punished.
He’d been eaten—devoured alive by one of those white-robed figures.
The revelation hit Ery like a bucket of ice water. The alcohol in his veins evaporated in an instant.
If those drunk fools hadn’t let it slip, he never would have known how close he’d co to death.
His back was already soaked through, cold sweat clinging to his skin. He realized then that he hadn’t escaped trouble tonight—he’d simply brushed past it.
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