Yunxihua's steps made no sound.
Yet every time her foot touched the world, the laws around her adjusted—not out of coercion, but out of recognition.
Mount Qingshui shifted by one inch.
Unseen.
Unrecorded.
Yet it was enough to slowly redirect the flow of qi throughout the entire Sacred Tianlan region.
In a branch sect, a young leader suddenly doubted a decision he had been convinced of for three years.
In another sect, a protective formation that had been stable for centuries began consuming more energy than usual.
Nothing collapsed.
Not yet.
This was still the initial stage.
Yunxihua walked down the mountain slope.
With every step, the symbols of existence she had released responded—offering feedback, not reports.
She did not control them.
She merely allowed the world to react.
"Soul Shadows are not tools of conquest," she said softly.
"And Soul Refinement is not about destruction."
In another dimension, the ancient god body walked alongside her, its eyes gazing at layers of reality overlapping one another.
It saw something Yunxihua herself did not fully realize.
The Soul Shadows were not only infiltrating minor sects.
They were beginning to resonate with one another.
Not merging—but forming a subtle network of desynchronization.
If left unchecked, this network would force the world to choose.
But that choice… would not be fair.
It raised its hand slightly.
Not to stop it.
Only to slow it.
Just enough for human will to still have room to breathe.
Yunxihua paused.
She felt that touch.
"You're too kind," she said softly, without turning.
If I don't restrain it, this world will shatter before you're ready.
"I don't intend to break it," Yunxihua replied.
"I only want to see who still stands… when there's no one left to blame."
At Sacred Tianlan Sect, a warning bell rang once.
Short.
Not loud.
It was not a sign of attack.
It was a sign of internal inconsistency.
The elders gathered.
The grand formation was still intact.
The treasure vaults were untouched.
Yet the records of decisions made over the past three months—were no longer aligned with one another.
"This is not an individual mistake," the old elder finally said.
"This… is an external influence that does not attack."
Everyone fell silent.
Because that was the most dangerous kind.
In the northeastern region, the Soul Refining Sect began to sense something strange.
The Soul Shadows they had sent out did not return.
Not because they were destroyed.
Not because they were detected.
But because… they no longer had a direction home.
The oldest elder opened his eyes.
The soul fire before him trembled faintly.
"This isn't Tianlan's reaction," he murmured.
"This is… the world itself."
For the first time, doubt appeared in that hall.
Meanwhile, Yunxihua stepped into a small city at the foot of the mountain.
She disguised herself as an ordinary human.
No aura.
No pressure.
Yet everyone who passed by her felt a strange urge—to be honest with themselves, if only for a moment.
A merchant closed his shop earlier than planned.
A sect disciple chose to return home instead of chasing conflict.
Small decisions.
Yet the world is shaped by such things.
The early-morning sky was still gray when Yunxihua left Xuliang City.
A thin mist covered the mountain road, and each of her steps was nearly soundless.
Her silver-white hair was loosely tied, moving gently with her breath.
The world felt peaceful—too peaceful for what was to come.
In another dimension, the ancient god body opened its eyes.
It sensed something.
A small vibration, almost imperceptible, yet enough to make the laws of space hiss softly.
Not a direct threat—more like an invitation wrapped in ill intent.
"The Soul Refining Sect," it murmured.
"They're starting to move."
Yunxihua stopped on the mountain ridge.
Before her stretched a vast valley, clouds flowing beneath her feet like an ocean.
She sat cross-legged and closed her eyes.
Two consciousnesses resonated—one gentle and clear, one heavy and ancient—yet remained separate, like two notes forming a fragile harmony.
Ten years of cultivation,
yet the world did not wait.
Far to the east, the group of ten thousand cultivators continued moving.
The banners of the Devouring Star Alliance fluttered, the formation tight yet calm.
Xubailong led from the front, his expression resolute, while Xufangyu guarded the rear, his eyes alert to every shift in the wind.
At the border of Sacred Tianlan's territory, the sky suddenly dimmed.
The clouds stopped moving.
A Tianlan guard lifted his head, his heart pounding unnaturally.
He felt an unfamiliar pressure—not from the army ahead, but from another direction.
From behind the mountains, thin black mist crept upward.
Within that mist, the shadow of an altar pulsed faintly.
An envoy of the Soul Refining Sect stepped out, his robe plain, his face calm like a monk's—yet beneath that calm, souls whispered without sound.
"The world is moving," he said softly.
"And those who stand still… will be dragged along."
On the mountain ridge, Yunxihua's eyes opened.
Her silver-white hair gleamed more brightly.
"Finally," she said quietly.
"It's not Tianlan you're targeting."
In another dimension, the ancient god body took one step forward—just enough to make space tremble.
If they touch the boundary,
I will appear.
Yunxihua stood.
The wind swirled around her, gentle yet filled with intent.
She looked east, then west, then up at the sky slowly darkening.
"That journey of ten thousand," she said softly,
"will become the sign."
The sky remained silent.
Yet far below, fate began to sharpen.