A triumphant Ding echoed through Kai's mind. "Congratulations on completing the quest. Reward: one summon, 1000 sect points." A surge of satisfaction washed over him. The sect had not only survived but thrived.
Elara and Kael approached, their captives in tow. Marcus and Darius, the once arrogant leaders, now looked defeated and fearful.
"Who the hell are all of you? How come there are two Nascent Soul Realms in an unknown sect?" Marcus demanded, his voice a mere whisper compared to his earlier bravado.
Kai's gaze turned cold. "I am the one asking the questions here. If you don't want to die a painful death, answer truthfully."
The atmosphere was tense. The fate of the two captives hung in the balance.
"Who are you guys? Why are you trying to attack my sect?" Kai pressed.
Darius, sensing a flicker of hope, spoke up, "Don't think you've won. Our masters, both at peak Nascent Soul Realm, will avenge us. Even with your two Nascent Soul cultivators, you will fall when our combined forces arrive."
Kai smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Is that so? What will happen if I have another on our side?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken threat.
With a dramatic flourish, Kai turned to the system, issuing the command, "Use the summon." The ground trembled as a colossal vortex erupted in the sky, its swirling energy drawing the attention of everyone present. The tension in the air was palpable; even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
From within the heart of the vortex, a figure emerged. A young man of imposing stature, his aura crackling with raw power, stepped forth. He was clad in pristine white, his long, flowing hair a stark contrast against the tumultuous sky. In his hand, he held a sword that seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy. His presence was a tempest, overbearing and commanding. It was Kaelam, a name whispered in hushed tones among the legends.
The captives, Marcus and Darius, exchanged terrified glances. Their bravado, once so evident, had been utterly obliterated. Their knees trembled, their voices lost in the face of this overwhelming power. Their earlier threats, now echoing in the silent aftermath of their realization, seemed as hollow as the promises of a summer storm.