CHAPTER 717

As Andrew and the others gathered and discussed what they would do in the future, the wind howled through the ruins of a forgotten shrine, its icy voice drifting through the cracked stone corridors.

It was a place far removed from civilization, hidden in a region where few ventured. There was no name for the place, nor any record of its existence on any map.

It was the perfect hiding place, and it was where the two remaining leaders of Purgatory had fled after the disastrous battle at Rivers. The blue-cloaked leader sat on a stone pedestal, resting his head in his shaking hands.

His entire body shuddered with uncontrollable spasms, and every beat of his heart sent waves of pain through his veins. The fragment of the fallen god embedded within him vibrated with an energy he could not control.

His companion, the green-cloaked leader, was also on the verge of collapse. His hands, which had once firmly commanded armies, were now trembling claws.