Yang Zhai and Zuh Qil took a slow, steady stroll around the island, their footsteps muffled by the grass beneath.
"Jun Island, governed by four distinct forces from four distant continents. This place was first occupied and painstakingly developed for one reason alone: to shield the travelers journeying from the Suru Continent to others and those returning," Yang Zhai murmured to himself, recalling what he had learned. "A storm would arise here, lasting for at least a month before fading… only to return after two days with relentless fury."
This storm was far from ordinary, for it carried within it countless poisons—venom upon venom, impossible to count. Even high‑rank cultivators, with all their strength, avoided its grasp. Once born, the storm would link the sky and the ocean in a roaring union, expanding over hundreds of miles and birthing countless spiraling tornadoes.
And that, above all, was why this treacherous region had earned the grim title: Poison Ocean.
"Yet despite its name," Yang Zhai muttered softly, watching the distant waves, "an ordinary person can swim in these waters without harm. The poisons only awaken when the storm rises. During the two days it disappears, an ordinary person can swim here without worries."
The island itself was no ordinary land—it could move, shifting slowly across the sea. The cultivators of the four forces channeled their strength into grand arrays that bound separate sections together, forging a single moving fortress and boosting its speed.
Yang Zhai and Zuh Qil halted in a quiet, secluded patch of grass, gazing toward the endless waters. An invisible barrier shimmered faintly before them, shielding the island from the wild sea, yet Yang Zhai's eyes saw the world beyond as if nothing blocked his view.
He watched the waves lift themselves high, then sink and vanish, only to rise again taller than before. The rhythm repeated, each surge stronger, each crash louder, as if heralding something unseen.
"It's about time," Yang Zhai muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Zuh Qil stood motionless, his silhouette calm and composed. Yang Zhai remained a step behind, his gaze fixed outward.
A storm began to awaken in the distance. A vortex in the depths twisted upward, breaking the surface to form a whirling tower of water. The ocean roared, and waves climbed ever higher as a second tornado began to take shape. Among the raging swells, flashes of silver scales revealed fish caught in the chaos, tossed between sea and sky.
Then, within one of the spinning towers, a thin line appeared—something no ordinary eye would catch. The fish trapped within tumbled free, some splashing back into the ocean while others struck the unseen barrier and slid helplessly down its slick surface.
"I must commend their timing," Yang Zhai murmured, eyes narrowing. "If my clash with Feng Rui had dragged on a moment longer, we would never have reached this island in time."
He was, of course, thinking of Yu Hao and Li Min.
In less than half an hour, the spiraling waters had already stretched upward to kiss the clouds, towering and immense.
Yang Zhai raised his gaze and saw cultivators hovering high above, their robes rippling in the winds as they stared outward at the growing tempest. Among them floated Yu Hao himself, his presence unmistakable.
Yu Hao's sharp eyes caught sight of them below.
"Well, well, well… I expected everyone to be training quietly within the Iron Clad residence. Yet here you are, right at the moment the Poison Storm Calamity awakens. Don't tell me—you knew of this phenomenon as well?" His voice carried a teasing edge as he descended through the air and landed softly beside them.
"I see you two are here as well. May I ask why?" Yu Hao's eyes lingered on them.
"It is because Master Zuh Qil wished to take a stroll. While walking, we noticed this strange phenomenon and paused to watch," Yang Zhai answered calmly, bowing his head slightly to show his respect.
"I see," Yu Hao replied with a thoughtful nod, offering no further comment. The three of them stood side by side, their gazes locked upon the chaotic horizon.
The tornadoes raged, clawing upward until they joined the skies and the ocean as one. All around, the world became a swirling sea of water, crashing endlessly against the invisible shield protecting Jun Island.
Even those soaring high in the sky now felt the breath of calamity upon them.
"This is a wonder to behold, isn't it?" Yu Hao spoke without turning his head, eyes still on the storm.
"Yes," Yang Zhai said simply, yet there was awe in his voice. Of course, he was calm inside.
Zuh Qil inclined his head, silent but agreeing.
"By the way," Yu Hao said suddenly, "may I ask… what technique did you use back there?"
Yang Zhai glanced at him, instantly realizing which moment he referred to. Still, he asked, "Which technique?"
"The one… that cost you half of your left arm."
Yang Zhai looked down at his left hand, flexing his fingers slightly.
"Oh, that… Rank Five, Red Poison," he answered evenly.
"Hmm," Yu Hao murmured, thoughtful, before falling silent once again.
Red Poison? Yu Hao pondered, his eyes narrowing slightly. I have never heard of such a technique…
"By the way," Yu Hao said after a pause, "if you are a Mastery Path cultivator, I have some advice for you."
"Esteemed Elder, may I ask for guidance?" Yang Zhai spoke with measured respect, his tone steady.
"Do you remember the woman beside me earlier—the one who controlled that terrifying beast with ease? Her name is Li Min."
Yang Zhai remained silent, listening carefully.
"She is a Mastery Path cultivator. Though our sect is famed for its body‑path disciples, we harbor others as well—fewer, yes, but still formidable. Even so, you will face suppression within the Iron Clad Sect as a Mastery Path cultivator…" Yu Hao's voice lowered, deliberate.
"Yet, if you manage to earn Li Min's favor, your path will blaze bright within the sect. Should you become her personal disciple, resources will flow to you like a waterfall. Even her own wealth could sustain you beyond imagination." Yu Hao spoke without shifting his gaze, his words calm yet weighty.
"Your master is a body cultivator, and his foundation is solid. Even though I myself do not walk that path, I can see it. He will likely become a personal disciple of a prominent elder. When that happens, you will be left to fend for yourself."
"Esteemed Elder," Yang Zhai replied softly, "I am grateful for your concern. Yet I am content so long as I may walk beside Master Zuh Qil."
"Even if you follow him," Yu Hao said, his eyes carrying wisdom, "a day will come when he surpasses you, leaving you far behind. And when that day comes, even if you wish to stay, you will have no choice but to part ways."
With that, Yu Hao leapt skyward, his robes swirling in the wind as his figure ascended higher and higher, until he vanished into the horizon.
Yang Zhai watched him go, his eyes following the dwindling silhouette.
"Sigh… I have yet to set foot within the Iron Clad Sect, and already I am urged to seek another master," he muttered to himself. "It seems I will have to summon two or three beasts while within the sect, rather than laying low. Otherwise, those who feel overshadowed by Zuh Qil may target me to take revenge on him. And I must tread carefully, for I cannot easily reveal my other methods there." He glanced at Zuh Qil, expression calm but resolute. "Still, I will keep him from needless conflict. That much, at least, I can do. Otherwise, I can get into some unknown trouble."
He turned his eyes back to the horizon and murmured, "Once we reach the sect, I must search for a beast that can stand at my side."
Yang Zhai's gaze hardened, watching as wave after wave hurled itself against the unseen barrier that shielded Jun Island.
He lifted his hand and activated the Last One ring, sending a faint signal to Zuh Qil.
Zuh Qil turned at once and began to walk, his movements quiet and purposeful. Yang Zhai fell in step behind him, silent and watchful.
Not long after, the sun's light was smothered as the Poison Storm swallowed the skies above Jun Island. Yet the darkness was met by the glow of countless stones—each one lit with a dim, eerie brilliance.
Even so, their light reached no farther than five or six meters, each stone casting only a small halo before fading into shadow. They were placed seven to ten meters apart, dotting the paths like ghostly lanterns.
But something far more haunting danced above them. Yang Zhai looked up to see ribbons of color weaving in endless circles across the storm. These were not placed by mortal hands—these were the poisons themselves, alive and writhing, drifting like living constellations. Dots glimmered, strange shapes swirled, all glowing faintly as they moved through the raging darkness.
Despite the storm's furious pace, those poisons drifted as though time itself slowed for them.
"This world never ceases to amaze me," Yang Zhai whispered, eyes reflecting the storm's shifting lights.
!|!*****!*****!|!