Zora grinned, her gaze dropped, resting deliberately on his right eye. That strange eye.The one that glowed faintly even when he wasn’t doing anything. The one that made people uncomfortable without knowing why.She clicked her tongue softly, her arms crossed."You know, I’ve been watching that damn eye of yours since the day it opened," she said coolly.Kai tilted his head. "My eye?"Zora nodded, her tone casual but her eyes were sharp, and calculating. "That eye isn’t something a body cultivator should have."That made both Kai and Abigail pause.Abigail blinked. “Wait, what?”Zora turned to her. "Yeah. That eye... it's not naturally meant for body cultivators. It’s more in the realm of extremely strong Qi cultivators. Those who gather and refine spiritual energy, those who channel their inner force through meridians, form a dantian, cultivate qi techniques. That type."Kai frowned. “So… I’m not supposed to have it?”Zora waved a hand. “Not exactly. It’s not that you can’t have it.

Abigail and Kai stood side by side in silence, both staring at the massive gate of the Immortal Forging Sect, each lost in their own thoughts. The air around the sect was charged, filled with an invisible pressure that weighed down on anyone who stepped close. Every person waiting nearby, from hopeful merchants to wandering cultivators, wore either nervous anticipation or raw desperation on their faces. And here they were, two outsiders with nothing but the clothes on their backs, a fiery sword Zora had tossed to Abigail, and a vague command to “figure it out.”For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Kai broke the silence, his voice low and edged with resignation. “We can stand here all day, but staring at the gates won’t get us in. We need to try something.”Abigail sighed, clutching the hilt of her new sword a little tighter. “But what exactly do we offer? Zora dumped us here with nothing. No introductions, no supplies, no favors to trade. How are we supposed to even step inside, let

The seven elders stood like statues at first, their auras towering and oppressive, their gazes sharp enough to slice through steel. Liang still knelt with his head bowed, but Abigail and Kai could feel every ounce of that pressure weighing down on their shoulders.Then, without warning, one of the elders, a tall man with long white hair and a sharp nose, his crimson robe embroidered with golden clouds stepped forward. His eyes locked onto Abigail.“You,” he said, his voice booming yet oddly warm. “Come under my tutelage. I will make you my personal disciple. With me, your path will never be blocked. You will have every resource the sect can offer. I will treat you well.”The words struck hard, Abigail froze, her mouth falling open in shock. She had barely set foot inside this place, hadn’t even introduced herself properly, and yet one of the most terrifying men she’d ever seen was… offering to take her as his disciple?Kai’s brows drew together, his body tense. He wasn’t the type to s

The atmosphere thickened the moment the man’s words left his mouth, and before Kai could even react, both the Sect Master and Liang moved in unison, their voices overlapping with urgency and respect.“Grand Elder!” they called out, bowing low, their tones filled with reverence that was rarely seen, even for someone of the Sect Master’s stature.But the man, the so-called Grand Elder, didn't even glance at them. His eyes were locked entirely on Kai, his steps carrying him closer until he stood directly in front of him. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, yet there was no malice in it, only excitement, hunger, and a kind of obsession that made the air around them hum.The Grand Elder clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward slightly, studying Kai from head to toe as though he were some rare gem freshly unearthed from the deepest earth. His sharp eyes traced the lines of his frame, the way his aura flickered, the faint traces of that bloodline that refused to be contain

The next morning came heavy with heat, the kind that seeped into bone even before the sun had risen. Kai found himself standing at the threshold of what the disciples called the Endless Lava Region. From a distance, it looked like a massive gash in the earth, an open wound that bled molten fire. Rivers of lava slithered endlessly down jagged rock walls, the glow painting the skies above with streaks of orange and red, as if the heavens themselves had been set ablaze.He stood dressed in black robes that Atlas had once prepared for him, the fabric thick yet light, fluttering against the hot wind that swept up from the volcanic maw. The air burned his lungs with every breath, yet his posture was straight, his gaze locked forward.Beside him stood the Grand Elder Harkan. His own robes were a faded crimson, torn in places from decades of fire and heat, though no flame ever touched him. His white hair whipped around his wrinkled face, and despite his age, his smile carried the same vigor a