Whispers of the Demon Lord
Lu Qi's sharp gaze fell upon Xiao Yan, his expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "You… saw him in your dreams?"
Xiao Yan nodded silently, the memory of the blue-robed figure still vivid in his mind.
Lu Qi exhaled slowly, a rare trace of awe slipping into his usually composed features. "This… this is a rare occurrence. Few mortals, even among disciples, ever perceive him in dreams. For you to see him… it is almost unheard of."
Xiao Yan did not wait. "Master… tell me. Who is the Ansha?"
Lu Qi's eyes darkened, and he motioned for Xiao Yan to sit. A long silence followed, the wind outside whispering through the trees as though nature itself was listening.
"Over a thousand years ago," Lu Qi began, his voice low and measured, "the world was consumed by endless battles. Entire realms were razed by greed, malice, and ambition. At that time, I was just an ordinary cultivator, striving to survive among the chaos. The Ansha… he was known then as the Demon Lord."
Xiao Yan's stomach tightened.
"He was more than a man, more than a being… a force of destruction. One day, on a cliff surrounded by the burning smoke of war, the Saints and Immortals gathered in secret. We ambushed him, intending to end his terror once and for all." Lu Qi's voice dropped, heavy with memory. "But… The Ansha… he killed them all. Eleven Saints and countless others fell before him. Even though he was badly injured, he vanished into the void. None could find him. And now… he has returned."
Xiao Yan's voice broke the still air. "So… who exactly is he talking about?"
Lu Qi's eyes softened, tinged with regret. "I do not know. But remember this, Xiao Yan… the Ansha once stood above all of us. He has power to kill Saints… if he cannot find what he seeks, none of us… not even the strongest among the Seven Saints… will be spared."
The words struck Xiao Yan like a physical blow. He staggered slightly, his mind racing with the terrifying possibilities. For a moment, the world narrowed to the weight of that threat. Two months, he thought bitterly. Two months… if the Ansha does not find what he is searching for, survival itself seems impossible.
Lu Qi's gaze lifted. "You must rest now. Soon, I will meet with the other Saints to prepare for what may come."
Xiao Yan nodded numbly, his thoughts still spiraling. The fear, the dread, the impossibility of it all—it pressed down on him.
A gentle tap broke his spiral.
He turned sharply, and his heart leapt in shock. Mi-An stood there, her face calm but her eyes sharp. For a brief instant, a smile flickered across Xiao Yan's lips—but just as quickly, he remembered the cold distance she usually held. He forced his expression into neutrality.
"Why did you step forward?" she asked, voice measured, almost teasing. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"
"I… I don't know," he admitted quietly.
"Were you trying to impress me?"
"I… it's not like that," he stammered, caught off guard by her directness.
Mi-An studied him silently for a heartbeat. Then she said, "Fine. I will give you a head start. Two months. If you can beat me by then… perhaps I will consider you."
Xiao Yan blinked. Two months… that's if we are even still alive by then, he thought grimly.
"Why aren't you answering?" she asked again, a hint of impatience in her tone.
"I… Mi-An, you know… okay, no problem," he replied, swallowing hard.
"Good luck," she said lightly, and with a swift motion, she left, her figure disappearing down the path before he could say another word.
Xiao Yan was left alone once more, the weight of the warning and the challenge pressing on his chest.
A faint sound reached him from somewhere nearby, barely audible at first.
"Xiao Yan… Xiao Yan… Xiao Yan…"
The voice grew louder, more insistent with every repetition. On the third call, it was clear, unignorable.
"Who… who is there?" Xiao Yan's voice trembled, fear threading through it.
Then, in an instant, the air before him rippled. A figure appeared, moving with a grace that defied the world. The wind twisted around him, and his presence exuded a terrifying calm.
The blue robe… the fiery aura… the same figure from his dreams.
The Ansha.