The moment Aluki disappeared, the heavens changed.
No thunder roared.
No mountains collapsed.
No divine light descended from the sky.
Yet every cultivator within Cloud Fare Sect felt it.
Something ancient was gone.
The morning sun had barely risen above the floating peaks when the first alarms echoed throughout the sect. Golden formations surrounding the sacred mountains flickered violently before stabilizing again. Spiritual beasts hidden within the valleys howled uneasily toward the highest peak where Aluki's cultivation chamber stood.
Inside the Hall of Heavenly Judgment, elders arrived one after another.
Their expressions grew darker with each passing minute.
By midday, dozens of Core Formation elders, Nascent Soul experts, and several Heavenly Sovereigns stood gathered beneath the massive jade ceiling.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
An old elder finally stepped forward.
"Report."
A disciple immediately knelt.
"Elder Aluki's life aura has completely vanished."
Silence.
No one dared speak.
The disciple continued.
"The inheritance formation beneath the mountain was activated."
Murmurs spread throughout the hall.
Another elder narrowed his eyes.
"Signs of battle?"
"None."
"Signs of intrusion?"
"None."
The disciple swallowed.
"There was only one visitor."
Immediately every gaze sharpened.
"Eryndor."
The name echoed throughout the hall.
A young outsider.
A stranger.
The last person known to meet Aluki.
The only witness.
The only clue.
One elder slammed his hand against the armrest.
"Find him."
His voice thundered across the chamber.
"I want every disciple searching."
"Seal every city gate."
"Activate the spirit beasts."
"Send messages to every allied sect."
The elder's eyes burned with authority.
"Whether he is innocent or guilty no longer matters."
"We will bring him back."
At that exact moment, hundreds of disciples launched into the sky from Cloud Fare Sect.
The hunt had begun.
Far from the sect, Eryndor stood atop a snowy ridge overlooking endless mountains.
Cold wind moved through his dark hair.
Beside him, Wizyan lazily chewed dried fruit while watching clouds drift below.
For a brief moment, the world felt peaceful.
Then several streaks of light appeared on the horizon.
Cultivators.
Lots of them.
Traveling fast.
Searching.
Wizyan immediately sat upright.
"Uh..."
His expression became awkward.
"I've got a bad feeling."
Eryndor stared silently toward the distant sky.
His instincts already understood.
"They're looking for us."
Wizyan sighed dramatically.
"Of course they are."
"Because apparently we can't have one normal week."
Despite the joke, tension settled between them.
Cloud Fare Sect was no ordinary enemy.
It was the second strongest sect in the world.
A force capable of shaking continents.
And now they were searching for him.
Inside Eryndor's mind, another voice suddenly spoke.
"You really know how to create problems."
Aluki.
The old cultivator sounded far too relaxed considering he was technically dead.
Eryndor frowned.
"This is your fault."
"My fault?"
Aluki laughed.
"Kid, you're carrying an ancient cosmic horror inside your soul."
"I think we're both responsible."
Eryndor ignored him.
The conversation might have continued if not for a sudden chill running through his body.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Aluki became silent.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Eryndor heard something unusual.
Fear.
Real fear.
Inside Aluki's voice.
"Stop moving."
Eryndor instantly froze.
Wizyan noticed immediately.
"What happened?"
Eryndor didn't answer.
Inside his spiritual sea, Aluki stood before the endless darkness surrounding the Starved Throne.
The old cultivator's expression had completely changed.
Seven hundred years of experience.
Seven hundred years of battles.
And yet he looked genuinely disturbed.
"What is it?" Eryndor asked.
Aluki slowly lifted his gaze upward.
Beyond the throne.
Beyond the darkness.
Beyond reality itself.
Something was staring back.
High above the cultivation world, beyond clouds, beyond stars, beyond dimensions ordinary cultivators could never perceive, two crimson eyes opened.
Massive.
Ancient.
Endless.
The eyes observed existence itself.
Planets appeared smaller than grains of dust before them.
Galaxies reflected within their pupils.
Countless worlds drifted through the darkness.
And now those eyes focused on a single existence.
Eryndor.
The moment Aluki's soul entered the vessel of the Starved Throne, a signal had been sent across creation.
Something ancient had awakened.
Something older than heaven.
Something that remembered the age of the Throne-Bearers.
Something that should never have noticed him.
Back on the mountain ridge, Eryndor suddenly felt pressure descend upon his soul.
Not cultivation pressure.
Not spiritual energy.
Something far worse.
It felt like being observed by existence itself.
His breathing slowed.
The cracked seal on his chest pulsed violently beneath his robes.
For the first time since meeting the Starved Throne, genuine terror touched his heart.
Wizyan stepped closer.
"Eryndor?"
No answer.
Only silence.
Then Aluki spoke again.
His voice barely above a whisper.
"Kid..."
"What?"
The old cultivator stared toward the impossible eyes beyond reality.
His expression grim.
"We're not being hunted by Cloud Fare Sect anymore."
The mountain wind suddenly died.
The world became still.
Even the birds stopped singing.
"What do you mean?" Eryndor asked.
Aluki's answer chilled him more than the frozen mountains ever could.
"Something far older has found us."
Far above them, hidden beyond heaven itself, the crimson eyes remained open.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling.
And for the first time in countless ages...
The hunt had truly begun.