Buzz!
A low hum rang out. At first it was so faint it sounded like the buzz of a mosquito, too slight to catch unless someone listened for it. Then, in the space of a blink, the sound swelled by leaps and bounds until it became a deafening roar, like ancient war drums being struck awake.
The runes on the black stele lit up in an instant and burst with blinding light. At first the light was green, soft and mild, like spring wind brushing through willow branches.
The cultivators around it had just started to curl their lips, ready to laugh at a low- grade bloodline, when the green light had not even fully faded before it shifted sharply into purple.
The purple light was thick as ink and carried a kind of heavy majesty with it. People around the stele found themselves stepping back several paces before they even realized it.
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