### **White Hollow City**
The gates of White Hollow City stood open.
That alone was wrong.
Normally, even in times of peace, the city's gates were regulated—guarded by Li clan patrols moving with disciplined precision. Now, the massive wooden gates hung wide, their surfaces looking deceptively normal, as if nothing had happened at all.
The three **Cloud River Sect** disciples slowed as they approached.
No laughter.
No bustling cries of trade.
Only **unease**.
They passed through the gate without obstruction.
Inside, the city felt… hollow.
Shops remained open, but sparsely stocked. Streets that should have been crowded were only half-filled. Mortals moved quickly with lowered heads and hushed voices, as though afraid to draw attention. Even cultivators kept their auras tightly restrained.
The faint scent of blood lingered in the air—old, but not gone.
"…So the rumors weren't exaggerations," the second disciple murmured.
Their attention was drawn almost immediately toward the **central district**.
Entire stretches of stone had been replaced. Buildings bore fresh scorch marks, shattered roofs, and partially rebuilt walls.
This was not the aftermath of a single beast.
"This was a battlefield," the lead disciple said quietly. "And not a small one."
They walked deeper into the city.
As they passed a teahouse, voices drifted out—low, tense, uneasy.
"…six elders, all dead…"
"…even the Great Elder…"
"…they say it spoke—just spoke, and people froze…"
The third disciple stopped.
"Spoke?" he repeated softly.
He turned toward the open teahouse door.
Inside, several cultivators sat close together, cups untouched. One man trembled as he spoke.
"I didn't see it clearly," he said. "But I heard it. The moment it spoke, my legs gave out. I couldn't move—couldn't even breathe properly. If it had looked at me, I'd be dead."
A woman across from him whispered, "They say it vanished right in front of the elders. Just… disappeared."
"Invisibility?" someone muttered.
The Cloud River disciples exchanged a glance.
Foundation Establishment demon beasts were dangerous—but **this** was something else.
They moved on, heading toward the **Li clan compound**.
—or what remained of it.
The outer walls still stood, but the gates had yet to be replaced. Blackened earth scarred the courtyard, stretching outward like an open wound.
At the center, a memorial platform had been hastily erected.
Incense burned quietly.
No elders stood watch.
Only junior clan members remained, faces drawn tight with grief and exhaustion.
The second disciple inhaled sharply. "So it's true…"
"All of their Foundation Establishment elders," the lead disciple said grimly. "Gone."
The third disciple's gaze hardened.
"This aligns too well with what we found in Blackveil Forest," he said. "Our missing juniors didn't simply wander into death."
He lifted his eyes toward the distant mountains where the sect lands lay hidden beyond the horizon.
"If a creature capable of this exists," he continued, "then it will not stop here."
A cold realization settled over them.
This was no longer a single city's tragedy.
It was the opening move of something far larger.
The three **Cloud River Sect** disciples stood at the edge of the ruined Li clan courtyard, eyes sweeping over the devastation once more.
For a long moment, none of them spoke.
Finally, the **lead disciple** exhaled slowly.
"Hearing rumors is one thing," he said. "Seeing this destruction with our own eyes is another."
His gaze lingered on shattered formation pillars and scorched ground where qi had once clashed violently.
"The city truly was attacked," the second disciple agreed. "And not by ordinary demon beasts."
He instinctively lowered his voice.
"Multiple elders slain. Even the Great Elder. Formations broken from the inside. This kind of damage…" He shook his head. "It supports everything we've heard."
The third disciple frowned.
"But support isn't the same as **confirmation**," he said. "Rumors grow teeth when fear spreads. If we return to the sect with nothing but hearsay, the elders may dismiss it—or worse, misjudge it."
The lead disciple nodded.
"The Li clan was directly involved," he said. "They suffered the greatest losses. If anyone knows the truth, it's them."
He straightened.
"We need first-hand confirmation—from someone who was here."
The second disciple hesitated. "The clan is in mourning. Their elders are dead. Approaching them now may be… delicate."
"That doesn't change our duty," the third replied calmly. "Our juniors are missing—dead, most likely. And if the same entity was involved, the sect needs accurate information."
The lead disciple's eyes hardened.
"Exactly. If we report back, it must be solid."
He glanced toward the inner compound, where incense smoke drifted lazily skyward.
"We go to the Li clan," he said decisively. "We speak to whoever is in charge now—acting head, surviving senior, anyone."
A brief pause followed.
"If the rumors are exaggerated, we will know."
"And if they are not…" the second disciple murmured.
The third finished quietly.
"Then something dangerous is already moving."
Without another word, the three disciples turned and headed toward the Li clan estate, their footsteps echoing softly through a city still reeling from catastrophe—each step carrying them closer to a truth none of them were fully prepared to face.
---
### **Li Clan Estate — Inner Grounds**
Deep within the compound, far from the ruined outer halls, lay a **quiet garden courtyard**.
A small, clear pond rested at its center, lotus leaves drifting lazily across the surface. Pale flower petals floated atop the water, disturbed only when a leaf shifted or a faint breeze passed through.
The air was still—heavy with mourning.
Stone paths curved through neatly trimmed spirit shrubs, their once-vibrant glow now dulled. Above the courtyard, standing watch atop a tiled pavilion roof, were two figures. One was **Shi Tong**, his expression sharp despite exhaustion etched deep into his features. Beside him stood another guard, silent and alert, eyes scanning the estate below.
Nothing stirred.
Then the air **changed**.
Qi rippled above the courtyard as if an invisible current swept through the space. Flower petals trembled. The pond's surface stilled completely.
Shi Tong stiffened.
Before either guard could react, two figures **descended from the sky**, moving as though carried by the wind itself—silent, effortless, defying gravity. Their robes fluttered softly as they lowered, feet touching stone without sound.
They landed gently within the courtyard.
Shi Tong's eyes widened.
He recognized them instantly.
Without hesitation, he leapt down from the pavilion roof and dropped to one knee, bowing deeply. The second guard followed at once, heart pounding as he mirrored the gesture.
"The Young Lord is back!" Shi Tong exclaimed, his voice tight with relief and disbelief.
He lifted his head just enough to confirm it was real.
**Li Qiye** stood there—travel-worn yet composed. No longer merely a young master fleeing catastrophe, but a man who had borne ruin and returned with it.
And beside him—
Shi Tong's breath caught.
A woman stood calmly at Li Qiye's side, her presence quiet yet overwhelming. She wore simple, unadorned robes, but the air itself subtly bent around her. No aura flared. No pressure was released.
Yet instinct screamed that she was **far beyond** him.
Shi Tong pressed his forehead lower to the stone.
"This humble guard greets… Senior," he said carefully, not daring to name her.
Elder Lianhua's gaze swept across the courtyard—the pond, the petals, the guards, the stillness—without emotion.
It was not a question.
Li Qiye exhaled slowly, eyes lingering on the garden—the calm masking wounds not yet healed.
The courtyard remained unchanged.
But the moment itself had shifted.
The Li clan's fate had just taken another step forward.