Away from the activity of the World Tournament, a plan millennia in the making was underway.
The location was the Belmont Holy Land, but, instead of being the luscious boon of nature it was usually, it was shrouded in a dense darkness from within. However, from the outside, nothing had changed at all.
"Have you not contacted King Belmont yet?! He was prepared for an instance like this?!" A Belmont with flowing purple hair raged as his peak saint cultivation raged as he faced off against something that shook him to the core.
"Elder, we aren't able to communicate at all! We've tried awakening the Ancestors from their slumber, but even that's been cut off!"
The Belmonts that had remained to defend their land were in despair. Just this morning, everything had been perfect, and yet it had all changed in an instant.
