There were not many visitors from Rakshasa Temple.

Only five of them had come.

Like deities, they descended from the sky from an extremely high altitude. Barefoot and wearing distinctive, loose, white robes and white head scarfs, one would think, from a glance, that they must’ve come from Arabia.

However, golden light emanated from each of them.

Everyone also had a strange mark on their foreheads, each different.

“So it’s the cult master, Fiona! I, Mateo, am pleased to meet you!” said a visitor from Rakshasa Temple with a smile.

Although very polite when he faced Fiona, he was, in fact, probably afraid of her. “It was the combined efforts of the six ancient sects. We heard some madman from the Wastelands has attacked the Returning Sword Sect, so we’ve come here to try to make sense of the situation. I didn’t expect to witness such a brutal side. We just wanted to break this demonic formation and return justice to the world so that the villain couldn’t continue his evil deeds. Ple