The elder spoke, and except for the monk in white, everyone else was silent.

This was respect.

It was also fear.

The elder's abilities far surpassed those of everyone present.

One could even say, he was of an ancient War God level existence.

This blind elder has lived for thousands of years.

If immortality no longer meant much after the Undead Tribe appeared,

Then a disabled person, so arrogant, killing people at will, and yet living so comfortably, speaks volumes of his immense power.

No one had ever seen Bradwell Abernathy fight.

This old man held the fourth seat of the Dusty Platform.

This ancient and mysterious organization has existed for many years, and few know what truly goes on inside.

Especially the top three seats, seemingly never appearing, yet always there somehow.

Among those here, many were rulers or elites in some aspect.

They submitted to the Dusty Platform, donating large amounts of rare spiritual herbs annually.

The benefits they gained were not merely a protective shield.

Four years ago, the Dusty Platform hit its lowest point in a millennium!

Many thought the Dusty Platform was a joke due to Julius Reed's presence.

Was the number one spot on the Dusty Platform's Heavenly Rankings reserved for Julius Reed, who did not attend?

Or was it for the first place contestant who came for the competition?

Either scenario brought unprecedented influence on the Dusty Platform.

Under such circumstances, the Dusty Platform showed an unparalleled ability to rally.

Including Pendleton, who had been dormant nearly a thousand years without success, and the Ghost Martial Tribe.

Even people like Eliezer Pine, unknowingly, were all drawn into this vortex.

In fact, the conspiracy against Julius Reed started many years ago.

Those in the room were unaware, assuming the Dusty Platform decided to act after their joint complaint four years ago.

The effect was obvious.

Under attack from multiple sides, Julius Reed lost his memory.

Losing his position as Holy Master.

The world of martial arts fell into unprecedented turmoil.

The Dusty Platform's Grandmaster Heavenly Rankings once again became a hotly contested authority!

The martial artists outside the mountain were proof of everything.

"Sir, we received word that from the Undead Tribe, Han Caldwell and Sutton have arrived at the Dusty Platform."

A young man approached Bradwell Abernathy and whispered.

Hearing these names, the Buddha Beads in Bradwell Abernathy's hand stopped rotating.

"Is that so? It really is an old friends meeting." He smiled, continuing to rotate the Buddha Beads, seemingly unconcerned about past events.

"The Fifth Elder asked me to consult you on whether to go out and eliminate him!" The youth made a throat-cutting gesture.

They knew these grudges well.

But those in the room were in the dark.

"Never mind, it holds no meaning." Bradwell Abernathy turned, looking at the youth with vacant eye sockets. "Without his past deeds, how could I be sitting here today? He no longer deserves to be my opponent."

As he spoke, Bradwell Abernathy was calm and collected.

"May I ask Master Abernathy, who is this person? Blind as a dog, daring to offend you! We should go out and eliminate him!"

"Indeed! Master, your generosity does not mean we want to forgive his sins! It's a death sentence!"

"Please tell us the name, and we'll bring you his head in no time!"

The room was ablaze with righteous anger!

Bradwell Abernathy reached out, summoning a sword from a martial artist's waist effortlessly!

Then!

Hurled it forward vigorously!

Chh!

The Longsword pierced through the shoulder of the most vocal martial artist.

"Hiss..." That martial artist gasped, his eyes wide round!

This was...

No!

Master Abernathy didn't intend to kill him!

If Master Abernathy truly wanted to kill, he'd see his own brains!

There was definitely a deeper meaning!

"I beg Master's pardon for any offense!"

The martial artist didn't even dare pull the sword, kneeling on the ground, letting blood drip from his wound without daring to move.

The room fell into a deep silence.

"Who hurt you?" Bradwell Abernathy spoke.

"It...It was myself!" The martial artist bit his tongue.

"No, answer honestly. I dislike insincere people."

Bradwell Abernathy said calmly.

"It was Master!"

The martial artist hesitated but chose to tell the truth.

"If you seek revenge, do you seek it against me, or against this sword?" Bradwell Abernathy finished speaking, raising his head to observe the fiercely rebelling martial artists before him.

"Sutton is this sword. The one who wanted my life back then wasn't him. Killing him serves no purpose."

The room descended into a peculiar atmosphere.

Someone once tried to kill Master Abernathy?

This completely overturned everyone's understanding!

Who could be so daring!

"That person is imprisoned under Demarco Mount. I've never had a chance for revenge, but now it seems the time is ripe."

Bradwell Abernathy stood up, tilted his head, and looked at someone. "Orson Martinez, have you brought the items?"

"Orson Martinez? Who is that?"

"Where? Who is Master speaking to?"

Everyone turned to look back.

A man stepped forward, standing before Bradwell Abernathy, sneering, "Bradwell, your eyes are blind, but your heart is not blind."

"Heh." Bradwell Abernathy chuckled lightly.

"Sir... Never mind, you were once a warrior, unfit to be named alongside emperors like us. But now, you seem to be doing well. The emperor feasts freely at Demarco Mount, while you play lord at Dusty Platform. Good! Can we talk privately?"

Pranay Martinez felt uneasy.

But now, the situation is what it is.

The former adversary's subordinate now stands shoulder to shoulder with him.

Even if Bradwell truly has the power, the hierarchy still makes Pranay Martinez feel a loss of stature.

Power and status are engraved in one's very marrow.

Changing them takes time.

"Follow me." Bradwell Abernathy, though blind, walked briskly.

He pushed open the door behind him and led the way inside.

Pranay Martinez hesitated not, following closely.

"Who is this person, receiving such high treatment from Master Abernathy?"

"Never seen him, but will his presence affect our status?"

"This matter is unclear."

Staring at Pranay Martinez's figure, the onlookers discussed in whispers.

And in the small room inside.

Pitch black.

Bradwell Abernathy was blind, naturally needing no light.

There were no windows, no lights, nothing!

Darkness enveloped all.

"I need your seven weapons to open the prison under Demarco Mount."

Bradwell Abernathy spoke calmly.

"I want the secrets beneath Dusty Platform!" Pranay Martinez's voice was fervent: "Tell me, what truly lies beneath Dusty Platform!"

The well had never lied to him.

Not once!

Since the well said the method to rediscover Skilid City was under Dusty Platform, it must be there!

"Beneath Dusty Platform? Are you sure you want to go?" Bradwell Abernathy's tone held some hesitation: "You may not believe it, but beneath Dusty Platform lies hell. Eighteen layers of hell, housing demons inside."

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