"What has occurred?" Ning Xuanwu's brow furrowed deeply as his gaze bore into Yao Ling'er. The sight of her distress stirred an ominous foreboding within him.
"Master..."
"Wuchen and Wufeng..."
Yao Ling'er's voice quivered, her eyes brimming with tears and fear.
"What befell them!?" Ning Xuanwu's voice rumbled with grave concern, each word heavy with urgency. "I demand a full account of the events!"
"I... I do not know." Yao Ling'er shook her head mournfully. "But Wuchen's remains have vanished, and Wufeng, a practitioner of our sect's martial arts, left behind but a single bone."
A chilling silence descended upon the hall as Yao Ling'er's words reverberated through its halls. Wuchen and Wufeng were not just esteemed members of the sect; they embodied the hope and promise of Xuanwu Sect's future.
Yet now, they stood as tragic symbols of loss and despair.
"What is more, Wufeng's remains were desecrated even in death. His solitary bone was callously fed to the martial hall's pet." Yao Ling'er's voice trembled with indignation, her features contorted with visceral hatred. The image of the dog bearing the bone ignited a fiery wrath within her.
He had been her childhood companion, her stalwart ally.
A thunderous boom shattered the oppressive silence as Ning Xuanwu's hand rent the nearby stone table asunder, his fury palpable.
The deaths of the two senior disciples, their ignoble fate even in death, seared through him, a seething affront to his honor and the honor of Xuanwu Sect.
"And what of my two treasures?" Ning Xuanwu's voice resonated through the hall, each word a testament to the tempest raging within him. In that moment, his voice eclipsed all else, echoing off the walls in an ominous crescendo.