The second elder's eyes moved sideways. She did not dignify this with a response.
The signal grew stronger as they descended toward the valley.
And stronger.
The twelve elders began to slow involuntarily as they approached, their flying swords losing speed not from any lack of cultivation fuel but from the instinctive, ancient, body-level response that any living creature has when approaching something it recognizes as categorically beyond itself. The spiritual pressure radiating from the cave — from a single point near the cave entrance — was not aggressive. It was not a directed attack or a domain expansion or any kind of deliberate projection.
It was simply 'present.'
Like standing at the base of a waterfall and feeling the spray. Not the waterfall's intention to wet you. Just the consequence of its existing in proximity.
One of the younger elders made a small sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening on his sword.
