The sky had long since darkened, casting the mountain clearing in a muted, shadowed light. Despite the victory, a heavy silence lingered between Chen Fi and the boy. The battle had ended, but the cost of the event weighed on both of them—one carrying the burden of his past, the other left to pick up the shattered pieces of his future.The boy, his hands trembling, stood up slowly, his body still aching from the overwhelming surge of power that had coursed through him. His heart raced, the remnants of the battle still alive within him."I…" he began, but his voice faltered.Chen Fi stood silently by his side, gazing into the distance where the remnants of the dark entity had dissipated into nothingness. The winds had shifted, and the air felt different—heavier, more charged. It was as if something had been displaced, and the world had briefly shuddered under its weight."You’re free now," Chen Fi finally spoke, his voice soft but firm. "The token no longer holds power over you. But the

The following morning dawned grey and heavy with mist. The usual peace of the valley felt thinner—like the stillness before a storm. The boy awoke early, the White Emissary’s visit still etched into his thoughts. He hadn’t slept well. The vision of her silver eyes and the word contain haunted him.Chen Fi stood near the cliff edge, silent and unmoving, watching the horizon as though he were reading the sky.The boy approached quietly. “Will they really come for me?”Chen Fi didn’t turn, but his voice was calm. “Yes. And for me.”“Then why aren’t we running?”“Because no place will remain hidden once their eyes are truly open. Running only invites the wolves to chase. Besides…” He turned slightly. “It’s time you truly learned what you are.”The boy blinked. “I thought I was already training.”Chen Fi shook his head. “What we’ve done so far was preparation. You’ve tempered the surface. But now we begin refining your core. That is where the seed of the power rests—the remnant of the Void

The sun had not yet risen when the stillness of the valley broke.A crimson bolt streaked across the sky, shattering clouds as it passed. The birds fled. The trees bent. The protective array around the valley shimmered and groaned under pressure.The boy jolted awake. Chen Fi was already standing at the edge of the clearing, calm as ever.“They’re here,” he murmured.From the eastern ridge, seven figures descended. Cloaked in flame-colored robes, each bore the mark of the Crimson Hell Pavilion—a sect infamous for conquering border realms and harvesting chaotic spirits for their dark techniques.Their leader was a tall man with a tiger-marked face, his hair wild, eyes glowing with inner fire.“Chen Fi,” he called, voice echoing through the valley, “we greet you as a courtesy. Consider it a kindness, not submission.”Chen Fi didn’t move. “If this is courtesy, then I hope I never see your rage.”The tiger-faced man smiled coldly. “We come for the boy. The aura within him threatens the ba

The wind carried tension across the valley. Leaves barely rustled. The animals had long gone silent. Even the sky seemed dimmer, as if hiding behind its own clouds.From the northern pass, a long spear of light split the horizon.Dozens of figures advanced—robed in white-gold, their weapons humming with will. Their banners fluttered behind them, marked by a single vertical rune: SPEAR.The Heavenly Spear Sect had come.Their leader, Zhou Tianrui, was famed for piercing a mountain in one strike and killing a Void Beast with a gaze. His cultivation was said to brush the threshold of pseudo-immortality.He stood at the front, hair braided in silver coils, a jade talisman hanging from his neck. His eyes gleamed with righteous fury.“So this is the hermit’s lair?”A younger disciple stepped forward. “According to our scouts, yes. It’s layered with over thirty spatial folds. None can enter undetected.”Zhou Tianrui raised his spear and pointed it at the air.“Then we knock.”With a flick, h

Where others came with flame and steel, the Moon-Chime Pavilion arrived in silence.No wind. No footsteps.Just the faint, eerie toll of chimes.Their disciples walked barefoot, clothed in robes woven from dream-silk. They moved like phantoms—elegant, graceful, and deadly. The world around them shimmered as they passed, reality bending to the rhythm of their steps.At their lead stood Mistress Yu Qinglan, a woman whose voice was said to halt hearts and whose melodies could erase memories. Her eyes were pale violet, and her every breath carried notes of sorrow.She stopped at the edge of the valley and raised her hand.Twelve chimes floated into the air, hovering in a circle. Each one gleamed with soul qi.She whispered, “Begin the Song of Dissolution.”The chimes rang.Soundless to the ear—but heavy in the soul. The air rippled like disturbed water. The trees withered slightly. Birds in distant skies dropped midflight.Reality weakened.Yet, inside the valley, nothing stirred.Chen Fi