Deities: Starting From Goblins Chapter 1439

Chapter 1439: Chapter 782_2 Chapter 1439: Chapter 782_2 “Thank you, big brother,” Logan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “The information you provided is very helpful to me. I will find a way to rescue my friend.”

The leader looked at Logan's determined eyes and couldn't help but admire him: “Brother, I can tell that you are a man of deep loyalty and emotions. But this is really dangerous, you have to be very careful. If there's anything you need help with, as long as we can do it, we definitely won't refuse.”

Logan gratefully glanced at the leader and nodded, “Big brother, I appreciate your kindness. I will be careful. I hope we can all safely get through this crisis.”

At this moment, the atmosphere in the camp grew increasingly tense, as everyone worried about the impending unknown. However, in Logan's heart, a preliminary plan had formed; he decided to take a risk and attempt to rescue Lowen Shingo, unveiling the mysteries of those ancient ruins.

Between the mountains shrouded in mist, an ancient sect stood quietly. Inside the sect, the disciples hurried along with anxious expressions.

“Senior brother, have you heard?” A young disciple, with a face full of urgency, grabbed a senior brother, his voice tinged with nervousness and curiosity.

The senior brother frowned, his expression grave, whispered, “I just got the news too, there's been a big stir in the mountain range.”

“What will our sect do?” the junior disciple asked with concern in his eyes, his voice unintentionally rising.

“Don't panic!” the senior brother glared at him, lowering his voice, “The elders are discussing strategies. Let's focus on our duties and await orders.”

At this time, inside the sect's council hall, the atmosphere was heavy. The elders sat in a circle, their faces stern, intently studying the yellowed map of the mountain range on the table.

“This disturbance in the mountain range, could very well hide a colossal opportunity,” a white-haired elder slowly began, his voice deep and powerful.

“Absolutely, we can't let other forces get ahead!” another elder slammed the table, urgency gleaming in his eyes.

“However, we also mustn't act rashly,” the Sect Master, standing up slowly, swept his gaze across the group, “The nearby lords, although not as powerful as our sect, should not be underestimated. They must have received the news too, and they can't just sit back and watch.”

“So what should we do?” an elder asked, full of confusion, looking towards the Sect Master.

The Sect Master pondered for a moment, then slowly said, “First, send people to gather intelligence and understand the movements of other forces. At the same time, assemble the elite disciples, ready to depart at any moment.”

Meanwhile, in a castle near the mountain range, a lord dressed in luxurious clothing sat in the spacious hall, his expression grim.

“What's going on with this mountain range?” the Lord slammed his wine glass to the ground, bellowing angrily.

“My Lord, it's said that a tremendous opportunity has emerged,” a nearby butler answered cautiously.

“Hmph, those sect fellows definitely won't miss this chance,” the Lord snorted coldly, a trace of unwillingness in his eyes, “We can't fall behind, gather our people immediately, prepare to depart!”

At the entrance of the Mountain Range, a group of Loose Cultivators had already gathered. Their clothes were ragged, but their eyes shimmered with greedy light.

“Haha, maybe this time we could strike it rich overnight!” a burly Loose Cultivator laughed and said.

“Don't celebrate too early, this opportunity is not easy to seize.” a skinny Loose Cultivator retorted with a scoff, coldly speaking.

“What's there to fear, with so many of us, are we still afraid of not being able to outcompete those Sects and Lords?” another Loose Cultivator spoke dismissively and loudly.

The crowd argued endlessly, each speaking their piece, but the greed in their eyes only grew more intense. As time passed, the stirrings within the Mountain Range grew louder, and a fierce battle for possession seemed to be on the verge of breaking out.

In a dim Secret Room, candle flames flickered, Logan's brows were tightly furrowed as he stared intensely at the mysterious beast skin map that emitted a faint glow in his hands. His fingers slowly glided over the map, every marked spot feeling like a heavy weight pressing against his heart.

“How could this be…” Logan muttered to himself, his voice low and hoarse, filled with endless fatigue and shock. After a long while, he sighed deeply and slowly lifted his head, his eyes filled with solemnity and helplessness.

“Master, the situation outside is getting worse,” a Shadow Guard, exuding a chilling aura, appeared quietly behind Logan like a ghost, kneeling on one knee, his voice icy.

Logan nodded slightly, remaining silent, just raising his hand to rub his temples, as if trying to dispel the fatigue and worries filling his heart.

“According to our latest findings,” the Shadow Guard paused, his voice growing even deeper, “there are already several thousand people gathered. Among them, there are seven or eight Half-step Saint Seat Powerhouses, each with a terrifying aura, capable of causing the very space to tremble with their mere movements; there are likely over thirty Strong Dominators, their strength unfathomable, each one capable of dominating a territory by themselves; and more than a hundred in the Throne Realm, their combined auras like a surging wave, chilling to the bone. The rest are all Transcendent Cultivators, any one of whom could stir up significant trouble on their own.”

“This… This is truly a terrifying force capable of sweeping everything away…” Logan murmured softly, a hint of despair flashing in his eyes. He slowly stood up and walked to the window of the Secret Room, pushing open the window and gazing out at the land enveloped in darkness, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

“Master, what should we do?” the Shadow Guard stood up, approached Logan from behind, and asked softly.

Logan was silent for a long while, then slowly turned around, his gaze resolute as he looked back at the Shadow Guard and said in a deep voice, “Now, I must face all of this alone. Go, inform the others to conceal themselves well and not reveal themselves rashly. Leave the rest to me.”

“Master…” the Shadow Guard seemed to want to say something more but was stopped by Logan raising his hand.

“No need for further words, my decision is made.” Logan's gaze conveyed an unquestionable resolve, “I can't avoid this fight, nor do I wish to. I want them to know that taking what's mine will not be easy!”

In a dimly lit tavern filled with the smell of decay yet maintaining a relatively calm atmosphere, Logan sensed the hidden dangers lurking in the air. Holding his drink, he casually leaned toward a seemingly inconspicuous man in the corner, who, in reality, radiated an aura of the Worldly Society. Logan's heartbeat subtly quickened, yet he maintained a composed exterior, trying to make his voice sound casual and natural: “Brother, I heard that Lowen Shingo recently got into trouble and was locked up, do you know where? I have some business with him.”

As soon as he spoke, Logan regretted it. The man's previously slightly drunken eyes instantly turned as sharp as an eagle's, his expression sharply changing, filled with deep suspicion as he stared intently at Logan. The man's hand unconsciously rested on the hilt of his blade, his knuckles whitening from the force.

In an instant, the tavern's previously individual conversations and drinking halted as if following some unspoken command, then everyone quietly positioned themselves, subtly surrounding Logan in the center, and the entire tavern's temperature seemed to drop, creating an oppressively suffocating atmosphere.

Logan inwardly cursed as he felt a sudden dread. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket for the Spirit Stone pouch, his fingers touching the smooth, round Spirit Stone. He considered taking it out and using the financial leverage to manipulate the crowd, but his thoughts quickly shifted, and he decided against it. He realized that in such a tense atmosphere, rashly taking out the Spirit Stone would not only fail to defuse the situation but could be like pouring oil over fire, completely enraging the crowd. Logan's mind raced for a way out as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, yet he still tried to maintain his composure, looking for a sliver of a chance in this explosive predicament.

Chapter end

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