The east sea breeze carried a chill and brine, like whispers from an ancient abyss, whipping the cloaks of Ye Chenyu and his companions. The fog was thick, almost blinding, and the surface of the sea had lost its familiar azure, becoming a dense gray mirror, reflecting faint and distorted phantoms—their own silhouettes stretched and twisted in the water, with occasional glimmers that seemed like the eyes of some unknown presence.
A shiver ran up from Ye Chenyu's feet as he stared at the reflections floating on the water, sensing that these shadows were not truly him, but distorted echoes of past illusions reborn. Each reflection moved subtly: some tilted their heads back to scream, others warped into unrecognizable human forms, silently questioning his very existence.
Suddenly, the sea churned in the fog, and a massive form rose, splitting the water and sending up mist. Its elongated scales glimmered faintly, its body snaking like a coiled river, yet its head bore a vaguely humanoid shape, as if it could pierce into one's mind. Ye Chenyu held his breath, his heart pounding, realizing this was no ordinary creature—it was intelligent, aware, and deliberate.
The wind and waves intertwined, and the fog seemed conscious, twisting the surroundings and pulling their senses toward the abyss. Ye Chenyu felt the space around him subtly rotate; the distant sea seemed to inch closer with every ripple, each wave striking his chest like a hammer. Reality and illusion blurred. He clutched his rune shard, striving to suppress the panic rising within him.
Liyue Ying stood silently at his side, her gaze scanning the churning waters through the fog. Her breathing remained calm, but every slight furrow of her brow signaled imminent danger to Ye Chenyu. She lightly touched the shard, and faint light extended from it, carving a narrow path of safety through the dense mist. Xuan Ye stepped slightly ahead, his rune array emitting an ice-blue glow on the ground, countering the strange energy reflected in the sea.
The water surged again. The colossal beast's silhouette slowly emerged, revealing sharp scales and a half-human outline. Its eyes radiated indifference and disdain. It remained silent, yet the echoing movement of the water seemed to whisper, making the three acutely aware that every action of theirs was being watched. Goosebumps rose along Ye Chenyu's scalp as he realized this sea seemed sentient; the reflections, illusions, and creatures together formed a warning: any rash move could be fatal.
Within the fog, tiny ripples broke the surface here and there, hinting at even more hidden entities beneath. An instinctual fear spread through Ye Chenyu's chest. He wanted to retreat, but the slippery rocks and dense fog made movement nearly impossible. Liyue Ying whispered sharply: "Do not linger. The reflections will consume you."
The beast's silhouette drew closer, the ripples of water reaching toward the shore like grasping tentacles. Ye Chenyu felt the oppressive force of the sea itself, synchronized with his heartbeat, each breath accompanied by a void-like tremor. He forced his mind to steady, moving along the safe path illuminated by Xuan Ye and Liyue Ying's runes, each step feeling like walking along the edge of an unknown abyss.
The fog gradually parted along the narrow path of light from the rune shards. The beast's form remained only partially visible in the mist, coldly watching them depart. The reflections on the water seemed almost conscious, distorting with each wave, projecting phantom tendrils as if trying to drag the three into the depths.
Ye Chenyu inhaled the icy sea air, muscles taut to their limit, yet silently reassuring himself: this eastern sea was the true gateway to the deeper Spirit Domain. The presence of Liyue Ying and Xuan Ye beside him was both protection and warning—the dangers ahead were far deeper than those of the Northern Peaks, permitting no mistakes.
Amid the fog, the three advanced slowly toward the distant, barely visible rocky shore. The waters of the Sea of Reflections lapped the reefs like living creatures, and the silhouette of the sea beast lingered, half-hidden, in the mist.