Chapter 95
Author: Marina Vittori
“Duane, let's not beat around the bush, shall we?" Dustin sipped his tea and said, “You said you've found the Panax root. Where is it?"

"Since you're so anxious, I won't tease you any longer." Duane smiled and clapped his hands.

A bodyguard entered the room carrying a wooden box. Placing the box on the table between him and Dustin, Duane opened it slowly. A dark yellow root no bigger than a palm sat inside. It was a Panax root with unusually long roots.

"This really is good stuff!" Dustin exclaimed upon examining the root closely. He looked delighted.

A 500-year-old Panax root was an extremely rare treasure! Now that he had another herb, he was another step closer to his goal!

"How is it, Dustin? Are you satisfied?" Duane smiled expectantly.

"Of course, I'm satisfied. Thank you so much." Dustin smiled, reaching out to take the root.

Suddenly, the lid of the box snapped shut.

"Dustin, what's the hurry? Let's talk more," Duane asserted. One hand remained wrapped around the box. E
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    The pale golden runes sealed Lysander. He stood frozen like a puppet, his face locked in an expression of shock and stubborn defiance.The scene tore through Elysium Celestial Palace like an arctic gale, seizing the unease that had begun building after Talmor's defeat and freezing it into bone-chilling silence.The men and women, who had been indulging in lust and pleasure, had long since collapsed to the ground. Even their trembling had stopped. Only the violent pounding of their terrified hearts broke the oppressive silence.The wine pool no longer rippled, and the tangled bodies stopped moving. Even the decadent music had died mid-note. It was as if the entire palace was mourning for the two "immortals" who had fallen in succession.Valindra was also known as the "Earth Goddess". Only a roiling sea of shock remained in those captivating eyes, along with a trace of cold dread she refused to acknowledgeTalmor's defeat could be chalked up to carelessness, to his elemental weaknes

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    Dustin faced three black-haired Wight-Gilders, each impervious to weapons. He moved like smoke through fingers, weaving through their coordinated assault with fluid grace.He no longer met them head-on. His swordplay turned sharp and unpredictable, the blade always finding a joint or the pulse of talismanic energy that bound the undead together. He struck at weak points to dismantle the whole.Metallic clangs and sharp hisses rang out as sparks flew. One Wight-Gilder's knee joint was pierced through by sword aura, freezing its movements in place. Another had the control talisman on its back, flicked apart by his sword tip, sending it spinning wildly like a headless fly.The last one was the most ferocious. Its claws aimed straight for Dustin's chest, but he slipped aside with perfect timing. With a swift backhanded slash, his sword slid straight into the gaping maw from which it spewed deathly energy. The sword aura exploded inside, tearing the undead's head apart from within.

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