The Land Without Echoes
They awoke not with pain, but with confusion.
Xiao Yan was the first to notice it—the stillness. A vast, endless land stretched before them, pale and unfamiliar, as though the world itself had been drained of color. Cultivators, disciples, Saints, demons, Di'or, Nem, LuQi—everyone was present. All of them were bound, seated in rigid positions, invisible restraints holding their bodies and suppressing their powers.
A low murmur rippled through the group.
"He didn't drain our cultivation…" "He didn't kill us either…" "Then why bring us here?"
Di'or turned slowly, her voice echoing unnaturally in the empty space.
"Where is this place?"
Nem answered after a pause, his tone uneasy.
"It feels hollow. Even our voices return to us."
The emptiness pressed down on them. Di'or glanced at Nem, her eyes glistening, something fragile passing between them before she looked away.
Xiao Yan frowned deeply. A strange pressure sat in his chest.
"Why does this place feel… familiar?"
LuQi studied him carefully.
"Do you remember anything?"
Xiao Yan shook his head.
"No. It's there… but vague. Like a memory behind a veil."
Nem exhaled slowly, his breath heavy.
A Saint broke the silence.
"What will happen to us now?"
Another Saint scoffed bitterly.
"Since Saint Gil U's death, have we known peace even for a single day?"
A third voice rose, sharp with doubt.
"Are you truly the child of prophecy?"
Di'or stiffened.
"What prophecy?"
LuQi answered gravely.
"The prophecy of the one who will end all evil."
The murmurs grew louder. Xiao Yan lowered his head, shame washing over him like cold rain.
Then—
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence.
A figure emerged before them.