The sky above the Azure Plum Blossom Sect was an ocean of brilliant, cloudless blue, but the four figures who stood sentinel within it shared none of the morning's peace.
They waited not in a somber chamber, but upon a vast, circular platform of condensed, pearlescent cloud, a thousand feet above the central peak. From this vantage, the entire sect spread below them like a masterfully painted scroll. Yet the high, thin wind that whipped at their robes carried a palpable tension. Elder Lin stood at the platform's southern edge, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Beside him, Elder Ming stroked his short white beard, a gesture that failed to hide the profound worry in his eyes. Elder Zheng stood with his arms crossed, a muscle twitching in his jaw, the very picture of cynical impatience.
But it was Elder Lian who was the most unsettling. Her usual compassionate warmth was gone, replaced by a cold, focused fury that seemed to chill the very air around her. The reports from the south, and the knowledge that one of her own was now marching into that darkness, had not just troubled her; they had kindled a righteous fire.
They were here to receive the answers to a desperate call for aid. One by one, they arrived.
First was Grand Elder Takeda of the Ironclad Bastion, a man who looked as if he were carved from the very mountain his sect inhabited. A thick, silver scar cut vertically across his left eye, the lid sealed permanently shut from an ancient war. His entire formidable presence was therefore focused through his single remaining right eye, a sharp, clear grey orb that held the cold, analytical glint of stone. He gave a curt, formal bow, his presence filling the space with the silent pressure of a lifetime of battle.
Next came Pavilion Master Xiulan of the Thousand Rivers Pavilion, moving with the fluid grace of her sect's namesake, her silk robes whispering against the air. Her face was a mask of serene diplomacy, but her eyes held the depth of still water. The last was Blade Sentinel Kael of the Whispering Blade Valley, a silent shadow whose unblinking stare seemed to see through pretense and into the marrow of a person's intent.
Elder Lin surveyed the gathered powers. "Esteemed guests," he began, his voice a steady anchor. "Thank you for answering our summons so swiftly. The matter is one of grave im–"
"Where is the Golden Summit?" Pavilion Master Xiulan's voice was smooth as silk, yet it cut through Elder Lin's welcome like a shard of ice.
The question hung, a deliberate and public challenge. Elder Lin unrolled an elegantly written scroll for all to see.
'Unfortunately, this matter sounds like an issue that does not require our assistance at this time.'
Xiulan's diplomatic mask shattered, replaced by a flash of pure, cold fury. "An insult," she stated. "They spit on the Ancient Alliance Pact and on all of us. There is nothing more to discuss here." She turned, her silk robes swirling, fully intending to leave.
"Pavilion Master, a moment." The voice was Grand Elder Takeda's, a low, gravelly rasp that commanded attention. "Pride is a poor shield against a plague. The Golden Summit's arrogance is its own folly. It does not need to be ours. I did not travel thousands of kilometers to be sent home by an empty chair."
Blade Sentinel Kael, who had been a silent statue, gave a single, almost imperceptible nod in Takeda's direction.
Xiulan hesitated, the fire in her eyes warring with the undeniable logic.
"He is right," Elder Lin said, seizing the moment. "Let them choke on their own pride. Our business is not with them. It is with the shadow that gathers to the south." He gestured toward the sect below. "Let us retire to the council chamber. What I have to show you is not for the open sky."
A few moments later, they were seated in the solemn quiet of the Elder's Council Chamber. Lin recounted everything from the tainted beasts, the disembodied voice, to the necromantic army marching on them. When he finished, Takeda's single eye narrowed.
"A horde of undead is a formidable threat," he conceded. "But a reanimated child giving a Nascent Soul expert pause? The report feels... incomplete."
"Words are wind," Lin said. "Allow me to show you."
He placed his hand on the central jade array. It hummed to life, projecting a swirling, three-dimensional image. It was the memory crystal recording from Kai Jin's talisman. The scene was unsteady, but horrifyingly clear.
They saw the small, shambling child. They watched its neck crack at an impossible angle as it exploded into an unholy, skittering charge. They saw it dodge two lightning-fast strikes from a Nascent Soul expert with twitching, unnatural foresight. Finally, they saw its head disintegrate into a cloud of black dust and foul, green-black vapor.
The projection ended. The room was deathly quiet.
Takeda leaned forward, his face grim. "That is not a mindless corpse. There is a will guiding it. A malevolent intelligence."
"An abomination against the heavens," Xiulan whispered, her face pale.
"That vapor," Kael hissed, his voice like a blade being drawn. "It carried a spiritual poison. For the soul."
They were convinced. But just as a grim consensus began to form, a different communication rune on the main array flared to life, a direct, urgent call from the field. Elder Wu's image appeared, his expression a mask of stern control.
"Sect Master Lin, Honored Guests," Wu's voice echoed, strained. "I have received the Vanguard reports. Both units are en route to the rendezvous. We are holding our position until they arrive, at which point we will plan our next–"
"GAHH!"
Suddenly, a frantic shout erupted from behind Wu in the transmission. "To the eastern perimeter! They're coming from the trees!"
"The south, too!"
"The western perimeter is also being overrun!"
The clang of an alarm gong rang out. Wu spun around, his stern composure shattering into a sharp alarm. "Report!" he roared at someone off-screen. "What is the target?!"
A low, guttural roar, deep and monstrous, answered him, the sound so powerful it made the image in the jade array flicker violently. Wu's face went pale.
He turned back to the transmission, his eyes wide, no longer addressing the council but pleading with them. "The main contingent is under attack! This is a full-scale assault! We need–"
The transmission died. The image of Wu's horrified face dissolved into a shower of angry, azure sparks, and then… nothing. The jade array went dark, plunging the Council Chamber into a stunning, absolute silence.
It was Blade Sentinel Kael who moved first. He stood, the motion fluid and silent. He faced Elder Lin, his voice a low, sharp hiss.
"Sect Master Lin. The Whispering Blade Valley will be ready to mobilize on your word."
He didn't wait for a reply. He gave a single, sharp nod to the assembled elders, turned, and strode out of the chamber, a man with an urgent purpose.
Lin looked at Kael's back, a flicker of profound gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Blade Sentinel. Your sect's support in these dark times will not be forgotten." He turned to the other two representatives waiting for their replies. Both Takeda and Xiulan nodded in agreement before leaving the chamber.
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The dead village was a study in unsettling stillness. For three hours, the two vanguard units had moved through its dust-choked streets like ghosts, their boots the only sound in a world that had forgotten how to make noise. They found no bodies, no signs of a struggle, no bloodstains on the packed earth. They found nothing. And finding nothing was more terrifying than any monster at this point, leaving some of them on edge.
On the northern side of the village, near a dried-up well, the Silver-Winged Vanguard had gathered. The initial tension of the investigation had curdled into a sour, restless frustration.
"This is a complete waste of our time," Jin Wei finally snapped, his voice a sharp, grating sound in the dead air. He kicked a loose stone, sending it skittering across the empty plaza. "We've wasted half a day poking through these hovels. We were right the first time, Senior Feng. There is nothing here."
Huo Liang, the more impulsive of the Fire Twins, nodded in sullen agreement. "We should be at the Sunken Mire by now. Kai Jin's ground-crawlers could have handled this… peasant problem."
Master Feng, who had been silently observing a pattern of cracked earth, turned slowly. His usual sneer was gone, replaced by a look of profound, cold disappointment.
"Jin Wei. Enough."
His voice was not loud, but it carried a weight that made his second-in-command flinch.
"You stand in the heart of a spiritual blight, surrounded by evidence of a power we do not yet comprehend, and your only concern is a perceived delay to the mission?" Feng's gaze was like a physical blow. "Your Metal affinity is sharp, your senses are meant to be keen. Can you not feel how the very Qi in this place is sick? How the elements themselves are in disarray? Or has your pride made you deaf and blind?"
Jin Wei's face paled, his arrogance wilting under his master's direct reprimand. "I… I only meant that we've found no enemies, Master. No immediate threat."
"The greatest threat is the one you fail to recognize," Feng stated, his voice calm but stern. "A true leader does not double down on a flawed assessment. He acknowledges his shortcomings, so the same mistake is not made twice." He turned his back on them, his gaze sweeping over the silent, dead village. "You were trusted to take point on this reconnaissance, and you failed to prove yourself. Do not compound that failure with foolish pride."
Jin Wei fell silent, his head bowed. The sting of public humiliation was nothing compared to the cold weight of his seniors' disappointment. He had been so sure, so confident in his superiority, and he had been utterly, undeniably wrong.
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Meanwhile, in a small, dilapidated hut on the southern edge of the village, the atmosphere was one of quiet, creeping dread. Kai Jin stood in the center of the single room, his senses extended, feeling for the slightest disturbance. Alex was moving slowly, his brow furrowed in a look of deep, troubled concentration. He wasn't looking for enemies; he was reading a story.
He ran a hand over a dusty wooden table where two bowls of hardened congee sat, chopsticks resting beside them as if their owners had been about to take a bite. He looked at a weaving loom in the corner, a half-finished piece of cloth still threaded, a single dropped shuttle lying on the floor beneath it.
"Senior Brother," Alex said, his voice quiet.
Kai Jin turned, his focus absolute. He saw the look on Alex's face, not of fear, but of profound confusion. "What is it, Alex? What do you see?"
"That's just it," Alex replied, his gaze distant. "It's what I don't see. There are no signs of panic. No overturned furniture, no scattered belongings. I've checked a dozen houses now, and they're all the same." He gestured to the table. "Half-eaten meals. Tools were left beside unfinished work. It's like… whatever happened here, it happened suddenly. Instantly. To everyone, all at once."
He walked to the open doorway, staring out at the empty street. His mind was a whirlwind, trying to connect the impossible pieces of the puzzle. The dead, stagnant Qi. The absolute lack of life. The sudden, interrupted moments. And the single, shambling, undead child.
"That thing we fought…" Alex thought out loud, his voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't a survivor. It wasn't a straggler left behind." He turned to meet Kai Jin's intense gaze, a horrifying realization dawning in his own eyes. "Senior Brother, I don't think this was an attack. This place… it feels like a harvest. They weren't killed. They were… taken."
Just as he was about to put his finger on the final, terrifying piece of the puzzle, a sudden, frantic hum erupted from the jade talisman at Kai Jin's waist. It flashed with a panicked, chaotic light.
Kai Jin snatched it, his expression hardening. "Elder Wu? What is it?"
Elder Wu's voice blasted from the talisman, not the calm, stern commander, but a man in the middle of a firestorm. The sound was distorted by the roar of a monstrous beast and the distant clang of battle.
"Kai Jin! All units are to fall back to the main contingent! We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack! Provide immediate backup!"
The urgency in Wu's voice was a physical shockwave. Before Kai Jin could even respond, the transmission cut out, leaving behind only a crackle of static and a stunning, absolute silence.
"There's no time," Kai Jin's voice was a low growl, cutting through the shock. He spun around, his command echoing through the dead village, reaching his entire unit instantly. "We're not running back, we're flying! Talia, you take Jay! Ren, with Lily! Kira, Elara!" With a flash of light, his own flying sword materialized at his feet, a heavy, broad blade of unadorned dark steel, a weapon as blunt and practical as its owner. He hopped on and looked down at Alex. "Get on. And hold tight." Alex scrambled onto the back of the sword, grabbing Kai Jin's shoulders for balance. Across the village, Kai Jin's team summoned their own swords, their designated partners leaping on behind them in a flurry of motion. With a sound like tearing air, they shot into the sky. Just as they cleared the village walls, five streaks of silver light converged with them. Feng's team had also taken flight. Kai Jin pulled his sword alongside their leader's.
"I see you also received the Elder's message," Kai Jin said, his voice grim.
Feng, his face a mask of cold urgency, gave a single, sharp nod with his earlier arrogance burned away by the crisis. Without another word, both Nascent Soul leaders urged their swords forward, and the combined vanguard of nine blades accelerated, becoming a singular, desperate arrow aimed in the direction of the contingent.