The morning air at the foot of the Heavenly Stair was sharp and clean. Madame Su and Black-Green Wood stood together, a study in contrasts—the stern, graceful master and the ancient, moss-smelling hermit. Lolly clung to her grandfather's leg, her eyes wide and sparkling.
"Don't forget! Bring me back a treasure!" she chirped, waving a small hand at Gen. "A shiny one! Or a fluffy beast!"
Gen laughed, the sound bright against the solemn backdrop of the looming peaks. "If it's possible, I'll definitely try." He turned to Madame Su, his expression softening. "Don't worry about us. We'll be back."
Madame Su nodded, her usual severity tempered by a deep fondness. "I will help Kin locate his missing daughter in the meantime. It should keep me occupied and" She met each of their eyes in turn—Gen's determined amber, Liang's thoughtful gaze, Lorel's quiet resolve, Chubbs's solid loyalty. "You all focus on your objectives in the Sky Ocean. Remember what is important."
They all nodded, a unified gesture. Then, as one, they turned from their anchors and stepped into the open air.
**Shidow** energy flared around them in distinct hues. Gen's was a pulse of golden light that pulled the air beneath his feet into a solid platform. Liang's was a shimmering, colored ripple , weaving condensed elemental energy around his feet. Lorel's ascent was the most elegant—a gentle updraft caught and guided by threads of pink-tinged intent, lifting her as if on an invisible current.
Then, with a grunt of effort and a burst of surprisingly refined silver-grey light, Chubbs rose into the air beside them. His manipulation was less graceful, more of a forceful shove against the atmosphere, but it was stable and strong.
Gen stared, his jaw slightly slack. "Since when can *you* fly?"
Chubbs's round face split into a triumphant grin. "While you were having your heart-to-hearts and taking advantage of my lady in the Forgotten Realm, I was busy. Opened my **Sea Acupoint**. Shocked, right?" He puffed out his chest.
Lorel's cheeks flushed a deep pink. "Chubbs!" she hissed, her composure cracking. "I never said Gen took advantage of me!" The Forgotten Realm had been a prison of pain and terror, but it had also been the crucible where her silent understanding with Gen had been forged. It was a memory she held close, private and complex, not a joke.
Liang laughed, the sound pulling him momentarily from his own melancholy. "Took you long enough, you big lump. But it's good. All of us now have at least two Acupoints open. Our combat power is far ahead of most our age." He looked at their small, rising group—a vengeful heir, a guilt-ridden friend, a rising lady, and a steadfast guardian. They were a unit, forged in loss and defiance.
"Let's go," Gen said, his voice cutting through the banter with focused intensity. With a final wave downwards, he shot forward, a golden streak against the grey rock. The others followed, their trails of light—gold, rainbow, pink, and silver—converging into a single arrow aimed at the distant, cloud-wreathed entrance to the sacred ruin.
***
Below, Madame Su watched their figures dwindle until they were mere specks swallowed by the mist. A deep, bittersweet feeling welled in her chest. When they had left the Jiang Mountain, she had needed to use her own **Shidow** to carry them over long distances, her energy a protective shell around their fledgling power. Now, in the span of a year and five months, Gen and the others were walking—no, *flying*—their own path without her holding their hands.
She was proud. She was happy. And she hoped, with a ferocity that was a prayer, that they would continue to grow, and that their bond would grow with them, strong enough to weather the storms she knew still awaited.
***
Somewhere in the Kang Clan's vast bamboo forest, a figure moved with lethal, silent grace. Kang Mao's form was no longer that of a pudgy, petulant child. At sixteen, he had shed the softness, his frame hardening into whipcord muscle. He practiced shifting stances and different forms, his hands carving arcs of dense, **Jingdao** energy through the humid air. Each movement was precise, economical, humming with a power that was deeply rooted and patient.
Perched on a bamboo stalk, a leaf in his mouth, Old Shifting like how kang mao came to call him observed with keen interest. "I think you're ready."
Kang Mao stopped his form and bowed, the gesture respectful but lacking any childish hesitation. "Master."
"Don't forget," the old Shifting said, his voice a dry rustle. "Your goal is not to beat everyone there. It is to let my brother understand that his student is not the only one with strength. The Wheels of Destiny still stand strong in other hands." He tossed a simple jade pendant through the air.
Kang Mao caught it without looking, his fingers closing around the cool stone. He nodded once. "I understand, Master."
***
Somewhere else, in a floating palace of dark stone and muted light, Xian and his wife sat at a low table. Across from them was a young cultivator. He was well-behaved, with impeccable manners, but an aura of profound stillness clung to him. At sixteen, his expression was sharper and colder than that of a veteran who had faced countless battles. He wore robes of black obsidian that seemed to drink the ambient light.
He said almost nothing, methodically eating the simple meal before him.
Xian smiled, a gentle, almost paternal curve of his lips that did not reach his ancient eyes. "Yun," he said, his voice melodious. "It is time for you to make your appearance in the world. The Sky Ocean will be ideal." He rolled a jade pendant across the polished table.
Yun's hand, pale and slender, stopped the pendant's motion. He picked it up, examined it for a heartbeat, then tucked it into his robe without a word. He continued eating.
***
In another part of the world, in a deep, sea-carved cave on a forgotten island, the air tasted of salt, blood, and old magic.
Baili Feng knelt, his back against the slick, black wall. Rusted chains, etched with dull, suppressive runes, bound his wrists and ankles. They were not simple iron; they were woven from the captured essence of the tide, a prison that siphoned strength and weighed on the soul. An Adult Milky Beast, its form a grotesque parody of a human with elongated limbs, slitted eyes, and needle-like teeth, feasted on raw, glistening fish a few paces away. The sound of tearing flesh was the only noise in the damp silence.
In the dim, phosphorescent light, Baili's eyes were not those of a prisoner. They were chips of obsidian, fixed on the creature with a look of such utter, cold contempt it seemed he was looking at something already dead.
The beast finished its meal, licking its claws clean with a black tongue. It turned its predatory gaze on him. "It has been over five months," it rasped, its voice the sound of stones grinding in a deep current. "And your arrogance has not changed. *Hihi*… I might just decide to kill you now and be done with it. What do you think?"
It didn't wait for an answer. A single, whip-like thread of its dense, aquatic Qi shot out, aiming to pierce through Baili's already wounded shoulder—a fresh sting of pain to underscore its power.
The Qi-thread struck.
But Baili's smile only grew. It was a terrifying sight on his battered, youthful face—a slash of pure, undiluted triumph.
A *clicking* sound echoed, not in the cave, but deep within his body. A sound of a final lock turning, a last barrier shattering.
His **Heart Acupoint**, the gate to **Zhidow (Creation)**, had been opened long ago. His **Sea Acupoint**, for **Shidow (Manipulation)**, had followed in the crucible of his defeat. But today, in the absolute darkness of captivity, under the relentless pressure of despair and unyielding will, a third gate had been forced open.
The **Crown Acupoint**.
The principle of **Fendow—Separation**.
With that single, internalized thought, the chains binding him did not break. They *unmade*. The runes etched into the metal, the very concept of their "binding" property, was severed at its root. The metal links didn't snap; they dissolved into motes of inert, grey dust that pattered to the wet floor like dead ash.
Baili Feng slowly stood up. The movement was not hurried. It was the inevitable rising of a mountain.
The Adult Milky Beast was so shocked it took a physical step back, its slitted eyes wide with disbelief. "How… is this possible? This thing was created by my own energy!"
Baili rolled his shoulders, the motion causing crusted blood to crack on his skin. His smirk was a blade. "Milky Beasts, although powerful, your Qi is crude. A blunt instrument. It cannot compare to the refined will of a human cultivator. You tried to contain a principle with a trick. A fatal error." He took a step forward, the oppressive aura of the cave seeming to part before him. "Now. You shall understand what true pain feels like."
***
The fight was not a spectacle. It was a demolition.
The cave became a blizzard of violence. The Beast fought with the raw, desperate power of its classification—tides of crushing pressure, claws that could rend stone, a shrieking aura that frayed the senses. It was a force of nature.
Baili Feng fought with something new. He didn't just reinforce his body with **Jingdao**; he used **Fendow** to *separate* the incoming force of the Beast's blows, dividing their impact before it could fully land. He didn't just manipulate the dank cave air with **Shidow**; he used it to guide the fragments of shattered rock, turning the Beast's own destructive power against it. And from his core, with **Zhidow**, he didn't create elaborate constructs. He created singular, devastating points: a spear of condensed hatred, a shield of solidified defiance, each appearing for a split second to strike or parry before dissolving.
He was learning in real-time, synthesizing his three Wheels in a disordered, brutally efficient symphony. A **Cloud Juggernaut** would have been too slow, too grand for this close-quarters slaughter. This was sharper, meaner, more personal.
It was brutal. It was ugly. Baili's body, already wounded, accumulated more damage—a deep gash across his ribs, a set of claw marks down his arm. But for every injury he took, the Beast suffered two. Its inhuman howls of rage turned to shrieks of agony as Baili's techniques, imbued with the cutting principle of Separation, began to unravel not just its attacks, but the very cohesion of its monstrous form.
A few minutes later, it was over.
Baili Feng stood, breathing heavily, his body a map of fresh and old pain. In his hand, he held the Beast by its neck. The creature's limbs hung limp, its slitted eyes empty and staring. With a final, contemptuous flex of his **Jingdao**-reinforced fingers, Baili crushed its throat. A last, wet gasp escaped it, and then it was still.
He cast the lifeless form aside. It landed with a heavy, final thud in the muck.
He did not look at it again.
Stepping over the remains of his chains, Baili walked towards the cave mouth, a sliver of blinding white light in the distance. He emerged, and the full light of day hit him like a physical blow. He raised a hand, squinting, his eyes watering. He hadn't seen true, unfiltered sunlight in half a year.
His sixteen-year-old frame, now honed to a whip-tight, battle-hardened lethality, stood silhouetted against the sky. The rags of his robes fluttered in the sea breeze. He took a deep, shuddering breath of free, clean air, feeling the vitality of the world rush into lungs that had only known damp and decay.
He looked at the horizon, his mind already calculating, plotting, burning.
"The Sky Ocean expedition," he muttered, his voice hoarse from disuse but vibrating with renewed purpose. "It should be starting now."
His thoughts turned, not to his sister, not to his father, not even to the fallen idol Jiang. They turned to a single, defining memory: a crushing defeat in the Tower of Wonder.
**Duo Yi.** The name was a brand on his pride. "I hope we meet there."
Baili Feng had never forgotten his loss. And now, he was not just stronger. He was fundamentally changed. Forged in a dark prison, tempered by a monster's cruelty, and reborn with a third, cutting Wheel. This time, he vowed to the empty sky and the vast, uncaring sea, **Baili Feng will not lose.**
***
All over the world, the promising young talents of various sects were making final preparations. Those who had earned their jade pendants in the Tower of Wonder through brutal trial. Those who had bought their way with mountains of Milky Stones. Those who had simply stolen them from the bodies of the fallen. One thing was sure: they were gathering.
On a lonely, wind-scoured peak, **Ning** slid his sword—the one that could cut sound—into the sheath on his back. He looked towards a distant, gathering storm in the heavens, his expression unchanging. Then he took a step, and the mountain was behind him.
In a lost mountain field perpetually filled with clouds, **Juxian** stood before a massive, recumbent figure half-hidden in the mist. The air rumbled with the creature's slow breath.
"You should go and see the world," the old voice echoed, tinged with pain and pride. "The Sky Ocean is a unique opportunity."
Juxian shook his head vehemently, his usual excitement replaced by fierce loyalty. "I will not leave you. Not in your weakened state."
The old ape let out a soft, coughing sound that parted the clouds around its muzzle. Its giant, intelligent eyes held a deep affection. "Stubborn boy. Go. For me. See if the world has produced another like your friend."
Juxian turned his gaze to the distant horizon, his heart a conflict of duty and curiosity. He sighed, a soft, defeated sound lost in the fog. "Sorry, Gen," he whispered to the emptiness. "It seems we won't be able to meet there this time."
From the grand sects of the Four Kingdoms to the hidden hermitages, from the dark corners where ambition festered to the lofty peaks where legacy was upheld, they came. Prodigies and plodders, heirs and outcasts, the righteous and the ruthless. Each carrying a jade pendant, a ticket to a trial older than kingdoms. Each carrying their own hunger—for treasure, for glory, for power, for answers.
The threads of a hundred destinies began to converge, drawn towards the same ancient, swirling vortex in the sky. The Sky Ocean awaited, and with it, a storm of youth and ambition was about to break.