High above the dark clouds, a lone figure rode silently on the back of a massive black crow.
The bird's wings barely made a sound as it glided through the air.
Its rider stood calmly, hands folded behind his back, eyes fixed on the land below.
"So the demon gate finally connected," the man muttered.
His gaze swept across the battlefield. "Demons have appeared. That much is certain."
His eyes narrowed.
"But those demons… they were wiped out."
He leaned forward slightly, focusing harder. Below him were only a few figures.
"…Kids?" he said under his breath. "That makes no sense."
Demons were not weak. Even low-ranking ones should have torn ordinary cultivators apart.
Yet what he saw below were demon corpses scattered across the ground.
His fingers tightened.
"And if only the disciples are here…" he continued quietly, "…then their master must have already entered the demon gate."
His expression darkened. "Especially him."
