The Calm of Absolute Power
The sect fell into mourning.
Not loudly.
Not ceremoniously.
It was a quiet, suffocating grief that spread like mist through every corridor and courtyard. No bells rang. No chants were sung. Disciples stood motionless, eyes hollow, cultivation forgotten. The wind that once carried Xiao Yan's presence now passed through the sect without warmth, without answer.
Minutes passed.
No one moved.
Mi-An remained where he vanished.
The ground beneath her feet was cracked and stained, still warm from divine impact. She stood there as though rooted to the earth, staring into empty space, her hands trembling at her sides. The wind brushed against her robes, gentle—too gentle—and the sensation shattered what little restraint she had left.
Her chest tightened.
Her vision blurred.
"I'm coming to meet you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she slowly raised her hand. Power gathered at her palm—controlled, precise, fatal. She did not hesitate. There was no fear left to feel.
Then—
A calm voice spoke.
"You would sacrifice yourself for him?"
The words were neither mocking nor cruel. They were quiet. Measured.
Mi-An froze.
Her hand trembled violently as she turned.
He stood there.
A blue robe stirred softly in the wind. His face was youthful, untouched by time, yet his eyes burned with something ancient—fiery, unfathomable, and utterly serene. His presence pressed down on the world itself, not violently, but absolutely.
The Ansha.
Mi-An staggered backward, terror flooding her veins. Her breath hitched as instinct screamed at her to flee—yet her legs refused to move.
"What do you want?" she demanded, forcing the words through her fear.
The Ansha regarded her calmly.
"If Xiao Yan were here," he said gently, "you would be confident. Where did that courage go?"
Her hands clenched into fists.
"Say what you want," she replied bitterly, pain hardening her voice. "Kill me quickly."
The Ansha shook his head slowly.
"I only kill those who stand in my way."
His gaze lingered on her, not predatory, not dismissive—observant. Evaluating.
"Your power has grown," he said evenly. "You are a fairy now. Xiao Yan would be proud."
Her breath caught sharply.
"Where is Xiao Yan?" she demanded, voice trembling despite herself.
"He became something better."
Her heart pounded violently.
"When did I become a fairy?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her tone.
"When I allowed it," the Ansha replied without hesitation. "Just as I allowed his ascension."
Her knees nearly buckled.
"You're different…" she whispered. "From the Ansha we met before."
"There can be only one Ansha," he said quietly. "And that is me."
Her fear sharpened into confusion.
"Are you a demon… or a god?"
"Neither."
The answer unsettled her more than any threat could have.
"Then where is Xiao Yan?!" she cried, desperation tearing through her composure.
The Ansha did not respond.
Silence stretched between them—heavy, deliberate.
He turned away.
"Where are you going?!" she shouted after him, panic rising again.
"For my first target."
Her blood ran cold.
"Saint Lu Qi?"
"No," he replied, a faint smile touching his lips. "Gil U."
"Why?" she demanded. "What did we do?!"
The Ansha did not answer.
He vanished.
The space he occupied folded inward, leaving nothing behind—not even a ripple.
Mi-An stood alone.
Her body trembled—not from fear alone, but from realization.
The Ansha was not cruel.
He was not reckless.
He was absolute.
And the one who had caused chaos, impersonation, and betrayal—
…might not have been him at all.
A name echoed sharply in her mind, heavy with dread.
Nem.