The Azure Sky Sect's great hall was filled with silence more suffocating than thunder. Elders stood in a semi-circle, their robes shimmering with threads of azure qi, faces grim beneath the lantern glow. At the center, Sect Master Dao Xinren, his hair like flowing silver, eyes sharp as cold stars, sat upon the throne carved from heavenly jade.
The report had shaken them all.
"The Tomb of Silent Gods… destroyed," Elder Heiyun whispered, his voice trembling. "A guardian slain. And a remnant artifact—the Silent Scythe—taken by an unknown."
Another elder spat coldly. "Unknown? Do not insult us. The one who struck down the guardian is no mere vagabond cultivator. To survive in that place… he must be a calamity incarnate."
Sect Master Xinren raised his hand. The bickering ceased. His voice was calm, but each word struck like an executioner's blade.
"The one who dared disturb the Tomb bears a fate that rivals heaven. If left unchecked, he will become a storm that swallows sects, clans, and kingdoms alike. He will not be allowed to grow."
The hall fell quiet. Then, at the master's command, the order was given.
"Send the Azure Sky Blades."
The Azure Sky Blades were not ordinary disciples. They were the Sect's shadow—an elite hunting unit trained for annihilation. Each member had ascended to at least the Nascent Soul Realm, their blades forged in wars long forgotten. Their leader, Feng Xueya, was a woman of unmatched ferocity, her sword qi said to split the heavens.
When the summons came, not one hesitated.
"We hunt," Feng Xueya declared, eyes glinting. "No matter where this creature hides, we will find him. No matter what forest or ruin shelters him, we will drag him into the light."
The Blades set out within days, crossing mountains, rivers, and forgotten plains. They followed whispers, remnants of slaughtered beasts, and the faint traces of corrosive blood that refused to fade. The lands themselves bore witness to Aezrael's passage.
Here, a clearing where crystal-eyed wolves had been torn apart.
There, an altar cracked open by raw, chaotic qi.
Everywhere, silence clung like a curse.
The Blades pressed deeper into the Shattered Wilds, where even cultivators of their level felt dread. The air itself resisted intruders, heavy with a silence that threatened to suffocate their qi circulation.
Feng Xueya frowned as she walked, hand resting on her sword. "This forest… it is unnatural. The silence grows thicker with every step. He is here".
Three years passed in pursuit. Seasons turned, rivers froze and thawed, but the Blades did not falter. Rumors spread of their absence, but within the sect, none questioned their devotion.
At last, they reached a clearing where the trees bent outward, as though bowing to an unseen presence. At its center stood a monolith of black crystal—towering, silent, and pulsing faintly like a slumbering heart.
The scythe was embedded beside it, humming softly.
One of the Blades whispered, voice quivering. "Sect Leader… we've found it."
Feng Xueya stepped forward, her gaze sharp. The crystal surface was cracked, faint lines of blood-red light seeping through. She could feel the monstrous presence within, pressing against her spirit like the weight of mountains.
She drew her sword, the sound ringing sharp in the dead air. "Prepare yourselves. When this cocoon breaks… the storm will begin."
And as if answering her words, the black crystal trembled.