Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Chapter 253: Necrovauld's Emergency

At Necrovauld Academy, the air was thick with tension. The atmosphere, already heavy due to the academy's constant dealings with dangerous cultivation practices, became even more strained as the connection from the team near the Death Volcano abruptly cut off.

The last words of the disciple echoed in the minds of those who had received the transmission: "The enemy is at least a seven-star cultivator."

Panic spread like wildfire through the hallways of the academy. The Death Volcano was no ordinary location—it housed vital materials, some of the rarest and most dangerous resources known to cultivators.

Highly coveted and fiercely guarded, its protection was of utmost importance. To think that someone had dared to break into the area with such overwhelming strength left many stunned.

In the War Room, where messages from the field were routinely monitored, the silence was deafening. The communications officer, pale and wide-eyed, turned to his superior, his voice trembling. "Sir, the connection is gone."

"Gone?" the superior growled, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean gone? Did they fall back or retreat?"

The officer swallowed hard, shaking his head. "No, sir. It just... cut off. The last thing we heard was the report of a seven-star cultivator."

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The superior's face darkened. "Seven stars?" His voice dropped into a disbelieving growl. "Who would be insane enough to send someone like that into the Death Volcano?"

He slammed his hand onto the table, the sound reverberating through the room. "Send a runner to the Elder Hall. Now!"

Necrovauld Academy, along with their allies in the Malachor Clan, had stationed a strong group of six-star cultivators and numerous five-star warriors around the Death Volcano.

They were no ordinary guards; they were some of the best. For the entire team to be wiped out so quickly—and for the last message to report a seven-star enemy—was nothing short of catastrophic.

As the runner dashed down the halls, whispers spread like a wildfire. "A seven-star cultivator? In the Death Volcano?"

"It can't be true," one disciple muttered, shaking his head. "We've fortified that place for months. No one could break in, let alone someone that powerful."

"But the transmission came from the frontline team," another disciple said, her voice laced with fear. "If they said it was a seven-star, then..."

"They're all dead, aren't they?" a third voice chimed in, barely above a whisper.

Without wasting a moment, one of the academy's top messengers darted through the hallways, his heart pounding in his chest. Every step carried the weight of urgency as he raced toward the Elder Hall, his mind focused on delivering the critical message.

Arriving at the large stone entrance, he nearly skidded to a halt, only to be immediately confronted by the stern figure of the gatekeeper.

The gatekeeper, a grizzled man with sharp eyes and a heavy presence, narrowed his gaze as he took in the sight of the frantic messenger, sweat pouring down his brow. "What's going on?" he barked, his voice laced with suspicion. "Why are you in such a state?"

Panting heavily, the messenger struggled to catch his breath, his words coming out between ragged gasps. "I... I have something urgent to report!" He straightened himself, his face pale but determined. "It's... it's about the Death Volcano!"

At the mention of the Death Volcano, the gatekeeper's eyes widened in shock. The hardened lines of his face briefly flickered with surprise before his expression turned deadly serious.

He knew all too well the significance of that location—the rare materials it housed and the danger it represented to anyone who dared trespass.

"Speak clearly!" the gatekeeper demanded, his voice lowering into a growl, though the alarm was evident in his tone. "What's happened?"

The messenger swallowed hard, still catching his breath. "There's no time to explain it all here," he said, his voice trembling with urgency. "I need to speak to the elders immediately. It concerns an enemy... one of seven-star strength."

For a moment, the gatekeeper's face froze in disbelief, his normally stoic expression cracking as the words sunk in. He took a step back, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a blow. "Seven stars?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting to the heavy gates behind him.

Realizing the severity of the news, the gatekeeper's posture stiffened. Without wasting another second, he waved his hand toward the imposing stone doors. "Go, quickly! Get inside. The elders must hear this at once!"

He moved to open the gate with a sense of urgency he rarely showed, the heavy stone groaning as it slowly swung open. As the gates parted, the messenger darted through without hesitation, his legs carrying him swiftly into the grand hall beyond.

Inside the Elder Hall, Elder Feris, one of the most esteemed elders of Necrovauld Academy, sat at a large stone desk, his keen eyes scanning through various reports and documents.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the academy's latest operations. It was rare for anything to pull his attention away from his work, but the hurried footsteps of the approaching messenger caught his ear.

Elder Feris glanced up, immediately noting the pale, anxious face of the messenger rushing toward him. The air in the room seemed to shift, tension thickening as the elder sensed that something dire had occurred.

"What is it?" Elder Feris asked, his voice sharp and commanding, the edge of impatience cutting through the room. His tone demanded immediate answers.

The messenger, breathless from his sprint, tried to gather his thoughts. His hands shook slightly, and his chest rose and fell heavily as he struggled to regain his composure. "Elder Feris... there's—there's been an incident."

Elder Feris's eyes narrowed. "Speak clearly," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm, though his gaze never left the messenger's trembling form.

Taking a deep breath, the messenger finally forced the words out. "Elder Feris, we've just received a transmission from the team near the Death Volcano... before the connection was lost, they reported encountering an enemy... a cultivator of seven-star strength."

For a heartbeat, the room fell into a dead silence, the weight of the words hanging in the air like a suffocating fog.

Elder Feris's expression instantly darkened, his features tightening as the full gravity of the situation hit him. His hand gripped the edge of his desk, the muscles in his arm tensing. His eyes, wide with shock, flickered with disbelief, but only for a second.

"What the hell did you just say?!" Elder Feris bellowed, his voice reverberating through the chamber like a clap of thunder. His usual stoic composure shattered, replaced by the fury of a man who understood the catastrophic implications.