The eastern sky was still pale when ten thousand figures rose into the air at the same time.
There were no cheers.
No cries of war.
Only the roar of wind split apart by their presence.
Xubailong was at the front.
His black robe fluttered gently, his face calm, yet his eyes never lax.
At his right side, Xufangyu advanced in step, his stride steady, his thoughts sharp like an unsheathed blade.
Behind them, ten thousand cultivators followed in orderly formation.
Some were from small sects, some from ancient clans, and some had never before stood in the same line.
Now they all moved in the same direction.
To the east.
They passed mountain after mountain. Clouds parted without resistance.
Below them, several small sects immediately closed their gates and extinguished their formation lights, pretending to see nothing.
The army did not look down.
Did not slow.
They merely passed by—and that alone made fear creep even deeper.
Days passed.
By the third day, whispers had spread throughout the east. The name Yunxihua was spoken again and again in hushed voices, as if fearing the heavens might hear.
No one dared to follow.
No one dared to block their path.
On the fifth day, Mount Tianlan appeared in the distance.
Pale blue mist coiled around its peak, spiritual qi flowing calmly and purely.
From afar alone, the difference between that place and the outside world could already be felt—peaceful, sacred, and far removed from conflict.
Xubailong slowed his pace.
Xufangyu raised his hand slightly.
The formation halted.
Ten thousand cultivators hovered silently in the air, right at the boundary of the Sacred Tianlan Sect's territory.
Not a single one stepped inside.
Silence.
The wind ceased its whisper.
The mist around Mount Tianlan trembled faintly, as if sensing something standing before it.
A few breaths later, a gentle bell rang from within the mountain.
Once.
Then once again.
A massive gate on the mountainside slowly opened.
Several figures in white-and-blue robes stepped out.
At their front stood an old man with silver hair, his face calm, yet his eyes holding deep vigilance.
The old man's gaze swept across the sea of people in the air.
For a moment, his chest felt heavy.
Xubailong stepped forward half a step.
His voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly to the foot of the mountain.
"We come bearing a message."
The Tianlan mist rolled thicker.
That name was spoken softly, yet carried weight.
"From the SAINT LADY."
And at that moment, Mount Tianlan—peaceful for hundreds of years—finally realized:
Today, it could no longer stand in the middle.
Xubailong raised his hand.
In his palm appeared a letter sealed in black.
It emitted no aura at all, yet its mere existence made the mist around Mount Tianlan tremble faintly.
He took one step forward and tossed the letter with a light motion.
The letter floated slowly through the air, landing precisely before the old elder of the Sacred Tianlan Sect.
"An edict," Xubailong said briefly.
The elder stared at the black seal for a long time, then lifted it with both hands.
The moment the seal was touched, his heart beat faster, as if an invisible pressure pressed against his chest.
Xubailong spoke again, his tone still calm, without emotion.
"The Sacred Tianlan Sect must join the Devouring Star Alliance."
There was no threat in his voice.
Yet precisely because of that, the words felt unbearably heavy.
He looked directly toward the mountain peak, as if speaking not only to the elders, but to the entire sect.
"Sooner or later," he continued, "the frog will be devoured by the serpent."
The Tianlan mist slowly swirled.
Several Tianlan disciples in the distance held their breath.
"The Soul Refining Sect will not remain still," Xubailong continued.
"And when they move… sects that stand alone will only become prey."
A long silence enveloped the mountainside.
The elderly Tianlan elder slowly clenched the letter.
His eyes trembled slightly—not from anger, but because he knew those words were not a bluff.
He raised his gaze, looking at the sea of ten thousand cultivators in the air.
Behind them, it was as if there existed an unseen shadow—
the will of Yunxihua.
The wind blew again.
In the heart of every Tianlan Sacred disciple, the same question began to repeat:
stand alone… or live by choosing a side?
And they knew this choice would not be given much time.
The elderly elder of the Sacred Tianlan Sect took a long breath.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if listening to something only he could hear—the pulse of the mountain, the flow of qi, and the oaths passed down since the sect's founding era.
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was resolute.
He held the edict letter firmly, then slowly returned it to the air.
The letter floated back toward Xubailong, stopping precisely before him without touching the ground.
"The Sacred Tianlan Sect," the elder said softly, yet his voice echoed clearly across the entire mountainside, "will not join any alliance."
The blue mist around the mountain flowed gently, as if agreeing with his words.
"From the very beginning," he continued, "our principle has been only one—to erase worldly affairs, sever mortal karma, and walk the path toward divinity."
Xufangyu narrowed his eyes, while several cultivators in the rear ranks tensed.
Yet Xubailong remained silent, his face calm.
The Tianlan elder lifted his head, gazing at the tranquil sky.
"War, alliances, hatred, and power… all are merely temporary waves," he said.
"We do not wish to be frogs, nor do we wish to be serpents."
He looked back at Xubailong.
"If the Soul Refining Sect moves," he said quietly, "then that is worldly karma.
Sacred Tianlan will not interfere."
Silence fell.
Ten thousand cultivators did not move, yet invisible pressure filled the air.
That decision was not a weak one—it was an extremely heavy choice.
Xubailong finally nodded faintly.
"I understand," he said briefly.
He took back the edict letter, then turned around without anger, without threat.
"We have delivered Lord Yun's will."
The formation began to withdraw slowly.
Ten thousand cultivators turned back, leaving Mount Tianlan once again shrouded in tranquil mist.
Yet as they departed—
the Tianlan elder stood unmoving in his place.
Beneath his calm exterior, there was a subtle tremor in his chest.
He knew one thing he had not spoken aloud:
standing outside the world… did not mean the world would allow you to remain outside.
And far away in Xuliang City, on Mount Qingshui—
Yunxihua opened her eyes.
A faint smile appeared.
Not a smile of anger.
Not a smile of disappointment.
But the smile of someone who had calculated that choice from the very beginning.
Yunxihua closed her eyes once more.
On Mount Qingshui, the wind blew softly, leaves rustling like ancient whispers.
There was no excessive emotion on her face.
The decision of Sacred Tianlan did not surprise her.
She already knew.
Standing outside the world… always looked noble.
But the world rarely cared about purity.
In another dimension, Yunxihua's ancient god body stood still.
Her red hair flowed freely, her eyes open, gazing into the directionless void.
When Yunxihua's consciousness trembled, that body responded as well.
They chose to withdraw.
There was no sound, only understanding.
Then the world would be the one to draw near.
Yunxihua opened her eyes.
She stood up and stepped down from the peak of Mount Qingshui.
Each step was light, yet in the distance, the flow of qi in Xuliang City shifted slightly, as if sensing something passing through it.
At the same moment—
far away in a region unrecorded on any world map, the gates of the Soul Refining Sect trembled.
Not because of an attack.
Not because of a violation.
But because something beyond their calculations had begun to move.
In the deepest hall of that sect, dark-colored soul flames pulsed slowly.
The elders who had remained dormant for ten years opened their eyes almost simultaneously.
"The Devouring Star Alliance," one of them murmured.
"Yunxihua," another added, his voice hoarse.
They did not yet know what had happened at Sacred Tianlan.
But they felt the direction of the world's currents changing.
Back to Xubailong's army.
Ten thousand cultivators moved homeward without a single word.
No disappointment was voiced, yet in their hearts they all understood—peaceful paths were always the hardest to walk.
Xubailong looked ahead.
"The next step…?" one guard asked softly.
Xubailong did not answer immediately.
He only spoke quietly, as if talking to himself.
"Now… it's the world's turn to move."
On Mount Qingshui, Yunxihua stopped midway.
She lifted her head and looked at the sky.
The sky was not enraged.
It did not cast down lightning.
Yet for a brief moment, the clouds moved just a little slower.
Yunxihua exhaled softly.
"If the sacred sect chooses to close its eyes," she murmured, "then I will open the path… in my own way."
In another dimension, the ancient god body took one step forward.
And for the first time in ten years—
the two existences prepared to move together.
In the distance, the Soul Refining Sect remained tightly sealed.
Yet the shadow of an unseen war
had already begun to spread across the entire world.