In the depths of the East Sea, the massive rift of the Abyssal Chasm gaped wide, swallowing the black waters like an endless maw, devouring any approaching light. Ye Chenyu, Liyue Ying, Xuan Ye, and Xing Lan stood at the edge of the shattered coast, the jagged rocks beneath their feet carved sharp by the relentless waves. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and decay, whispering lowly, as if the Wildlands themselves were addressing intruders.
Above the rift, a massive eye emerged from the deep. More terrifying than those previously seen within the Xishan and East Sea stone bells, it seemed capable of piercing every layer of the soul's defenses. Its black pupil glimmered faintly, as though searching, as though summoning, radiating a silent but suffocating wave of force. Ye Chenyu felt his chest tighten; each breath seemed pressed upon by this presence. Time appeared to halt above the rift—the world reduced to him and that scrutinizing gaze.
"This… is a summoning," Xuan Ye muttered. His voice was torn by the wind, yet carried an undeniable, icy authority. His eyes fixed on the rift, sensing the surge of unknown power within—like the very entrance to the Wildlands was being awakened by this force.
Beneath the waves, Xing Lan's gaze flickered. Slowly raising her hand, the palm emitted a ghostly blue glow, resonating with the surrounding sea. She spoke in a low voice, "I can no longer stay… my bloodline is bound to the Abyss. If I do not step into the Wildlands, I will be consumed entirely." Her voice carried through the wind, resolute, as if striking an unbreakable pact with fate itself. Ye Chenyu felt a swell of complex emotions—reverence, fear, and a touch of defiance.
The dark currents churned violently around the rift, waves leaping like black flames. Liyue Ying's cloak whipped in the gale as she stared ahead, her eyes sharp with resolve. Xuan Ye held his rune shard lightly, sensing its faint resonance with the Wildlands, realizing that this section of the deep sea was linked to the ancient, unknown forces of the Wildlands. Ye Chenyu clenched his fists, his heart turbulent and conflicted—fear surged like tidal waves, yet his resolve was as hard as steel.
Suddenly, the colossal eye within the rift trembled slightly. Water swirled, waves crashing violently upon the shore. Shadows emerged in the currents—phantoms from past encounters in the East, South, and West Mountains: the toll of stone bells, the white bones of altars, the wind of the Wildlands… All overlapped, intertwined, stretching time itself at the edge of the rift.
Ye Chenyu felt his consciousness nearly consumed. The light above the water warped, the world trembling. Xing Lan's fingers quivered; she closed her eyes to sync with the currents. Her bloodline's power surged through the water as ghostly light, temporarily suppressing the summoning force. Xuan Ye and Liyue Ying stood beside her, their runes and sigils flashing in the water like invisible barriers, sheltering the four from the oppressive force outside.
"We must go," Liyue Ying said coldly, her voice devoid of hesitation, as if issuing an unbreakable command. Ye Chenyu nodded, sensing the force from the rift intensify. If they delayed, the entire East Sea would swallow them.
The four drew a deep breath and stepped onto the jagged rocks at the rift's edge. The waves surged, dark currents roaring like black beasts; every step felt like walking on thin ice. The rift seemed to respond to their movement, the flowing water carrying low, mournful cries—the breath of the Wildlands, the ancient whispers linking the East Sea to the Wildlands. Ye Chenyu felt a chill along his spine, a profound void rising within him—as if stepping into the Wildlands would consume not only their bodies but their very souls.
Finally, they reached a section of water at the rift's edge. The currents parted, forming a passage. The depth was bottomless, the water seemingly frozen by invisible force. Ghostly blue light poured from the fissure, illuminating their faces. Xing Lan's eyes glimmered with a blood-red hue. She whispered, "The Wildlands… lie ahead."
Ye Chenyu looked forward. The roar of the deep sea gradually faded, leaving only the rift's low hum and the oppressive sense of void. A determination unlike any before rose in his heart: no matter how unfathomable the Wildlands, no matter what awaited ahead, he must step in. Xuan Ye and Liyue Ying moved in silent coordination beside him, Xing Lan following closely, their shadows stretching under the ghostly light—an image of courage facing the unknown.
At the far edge of the coast, the fissure slowly opened, like a door to the depths of the Wildlands being pried ajar. Ye Chenyu drew a deep breath, silently thinking: The final trial of the Spirit Realm is about to begin. The waves of the East Sea gradually calmed, yet the call of the Wildlands echoed from the darkness, awaiting the arrival of the four.