These gods sent to Sandin had upied various different posts. Because of this, details varied from those who came back.


    However, a few key points were the same.


    For example, the Prismatic Convergence Formation had failed to trap the ten sacrednds. It had been effective at the beginning, but was then attacked several times until it was inexplicably destroyed.


    After that, the spies within the sacrednds’ ranks wentpletely silent.


    Without these spies, they couldn’t grasp the exact whereabouts of their enemy, which lost them control over the remainder of the battle. In fact, they couldn’t even say how the sacrednds had prated the mists.


    Lightford was enraged.


    How could six gods be so stupid? How could they not have seen the way their enemy had navigated through the mists?


    How could the Prismatic Convergence Formation be broken in the first ce? Lightford became sober and contemtive. He hadn’t supposed the sacrednds capable of such a feat.


    “Do you know who broke the formation? Who spearheaded the effort?”


    “We don’t know, sir. When we found out the formation’s failure, it was already toote. It seems that the enemy knew the trick to breaking it very quickly. They destroyed two nodes simultaneously, which rendered half or more of the formation instantly useless.


    “Plus, I think they knew about our spies beforehand and thoroughly cleaned them out before they embarked through the mists. We’ve heard absolutely nothing back since, which means our spies have all been uprooted.”


    Old Lightford felt his heart grew colder and colder.


    A little more thought revealed some hypotheticals. The old man harrumphed. “The ten sacrednds are ancient factions after all. They must’ve guessed the existence of spies, cutting off everyone whom they don’t implicitly trust from outsidemunication. It’s not like we can buy the hearts of their best.”


    Indeed, the elite of the sacrednds were immune to bribery. To make the attempt would reveal their conspiracy to the light and their efforts, fruitless.


    The most they could do was seed the second and third rate factions around Myriad Abyss, hence Bluesmoke’srge-scale participation in thepetition of geniuses. The objective was naturally to nt spies in the sacrednds.


    s, all of their designs hade to naught. Their initial sesses yielded much fruit, but their line of information was ultimately cut offter on.


    The ten sacrednds weren’t as ipetent as the prison escapees initially expected.


    “Even if they broke the Prismatic Convergence Formation, the mists contain many well-refined and esoteric poisons. Why were the ten sacredndspletely unharmed by them? Their travel should’ve taken more than long enough for the poison to make it into at least some of them.”


    “That’s what I’d like to know as well, sir. They seemed to have known about the toxic mists and took measures ordingly. Moreover, I believe that they took almost no time to exit Sandin, which allowed them to remain unscathed.”


    “How can that be?” Despite Lightford’s wealth of life experience, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.


    Under the misty conditions around Sandin, even flying would be rather directionless. It should have taken one or two days, getting lost notwithstanding, to navigate to the exit.


    But to avoid being afflicted by the toxins in the mists, one had to break free of them in only a handful of hours. Such were the facts.


    “How did they manage to break through your encirclement? Did you not notice anything awry? Did they fly in airboats or themselves?” Lightford began to seethe with anger.


    He felt that he had lost in a rather inexplicable and pathetic way.


    “Maybe... I don’t think they flew out?” The person who replied didn’t sound confident.


    “They didn’t fly? Did they walk out with their feet then?” Old Lightford was incensed.


    “I hear they swam out!”


    They... swam?


    Lightford almost coughed up blood. It would take a day or two to swim out in those vast seas, even without the obscuring mists. Considering the haze upon the waters, swimming should have taken a fortnight or more!


    Moreover, what about the ferocious sea creatures teeming beneath the surface? Would they have let so much food simply pass them by?


    Lightford didn’t know what to say. If he didn’t need as many subordinates as he could get, he would have swatted both fools before him into oblivion. Only then would his rage be satiated.


    “Alright, I won’t press too much about Sandin. Tell me, what happened at the Eternal Sacred Land? Did all ten sacrednds go there immediately after leaving Sandin?” This was the old man’s next concern.


    “Milord,” someone reported from below, “our scouts don’t report anyrge-scale movement of sacrednd cultivators toward Eternal. There’s no reason we wouldn’t notice something so obvious.”


    “Then how did my enforcers die?” Old Lightford was almost delirious. He realized now that conquering Myriad Abyss was a somewhat more difficult task than he’d surmised. A group of gods wasn’t all that was needed to pull off such a feat.


    Yes, these gods were capable individually, but theycked discipline and motivation to band together. Moreover, many of them were subordinate to him only out of fear and greed.


    Everyone was shocked to hear the enforcers’ deaths and grew restless.


    It wasmon knowledge that the two cultivators had been Lightford’s favorites. Back in the Boundless Prison, they had served as his most able muscle.


    Was it true? Had they really died?


    Lightford’s expression waxed sinister. “Call everyone avable at headquarters together. I’m going to make a personal trip to the Eternal Sacred Land.”


    His fury was palpable. No one dared defy him; all present jumped into action. Though not many people were avable for the operation, Lightford provided more than enough reassurance at the helm.