As Xu Yunfan recounted everything, his grip on the handle of his Thunderfire Qilin Hammer was so tight it creaked. In the Thunderfire Cave, the sound of the wineskin bursting in Zhan Yan's hand was piercingly clear.
The glow from the magma channels cast a crimson light on the old man's hair and beard.
"Zhou Yuande is part of the Incense and Candle Sect?"
Zhan Yan's voice was as deep as muffled thunder, and the hand that had forged iron for thirty years trembled slightly.
"Right before he died, he screamed, 'The Ming Venerable descends! Grant me longevity!' He was no different from those Incense and Candle Sect fanatics in Wuzhou."
"Yunfan, this is a grave matter. The other departments might not take the word of our Weapon Casting Hall alone. If this is true, the Incense and Candle Sect has hidden themselves far too deeply and has been plotting for a very long time. Once they make their move, the entire Celestial Craft Cave could be annihilated in an instant."
