One Pound Meat, One More Attribute Point

Chapter 620: 495: Dark Army, Your Purity as a Human is Not High Enough!

In the center of the West Continent, the Holy Mountain;

The sky is clear, with a few wispy clouds floating by; on the ground, tender green grass and fresh dewdrops on verdant leaves.

At the summit of the Holy Mountain stands a massive temple, which is also the residence of the Great Clan Chief.

Columns of immaculate white marble rise from the ground, supporting the frame of the temple, a structure completed since the Descenders first settled here, its history spanning thousands of years. Time has inevitably left its mark, with mottled walls and the signs of wear on the frescoes, while lush ivy clings to the shaded sides and grows upwards.

The soil here is rich and fertile.

Large swaths of rosemary and sage grow at the grand steps of the temple.

The gentle breeze and the sound of the tide come together from the other side of the cliffs, softly beating against the tall stature of Indra.

His skin is indigo, his build muscular, with thick arms adorned with ornaments fashioned from gold and agate, a wreath on his head. As the eldest son of a god, he is majestic and distinguished, beloved among his brothers and sisters, especially during a time when the Great Elder is absorbed in his re

Indra thinks he has misheard.

With caution, he lifts his head, glancing with the corner of his eye.

The expression on the Great Clan Chief's face is unchanged, as if those missing are not his children, but two unrelated strangers.

Looking at that old and cold face, a furious rage begins to rise uncontrollably in Indra's heart.

But still, he suppresses it and asks, "I'm still somewhat unclear."

Finally, a slight change appears on the Great Clan Chief's face. His brows raise slightly, as if a smile is forming.

"I've made targeted progress, cultivating in Henos a gene spiral that can isolate us from the realm of immortality. She will be our future, the new human. Remember the purpose of our initial descent onto this planet? Now that it's been fulfilled, it's time to depart from here and return to our homeland."

A young girl in a white dress, with chestnut hair, who looks no older than fourteen or fifteen, runs out from behind the garden gates.

She is barefoot, her fair feet dusted with soil, holding a trowel in her hand.

It seems she was not expecting visitors.