The Saint Who Spoke of an Ominous Return
The path to my master's residence felt longer than usual.
Stone steps wound through ancient trees, their leaves whispering softly as if exchanging secrets. With every step, my unease deepened. The dream lingered in my mind, vivid and sharp, refusing to fade.
When I arrived, Saint Lu Qi stood with his hands behind his back, gazing toward the distant sky.
I dropped to one knee. "Disciple Xiao Yan greets Master."
"Xiao Yan," he called, his voice calm yet carrying an unseen weight.
I lifted my head.
"The Ansha has returned to the world."
The words struck like a hammer.
"The… Ansha?" I asked carefully. "Master, who is that?"
Before he could answer—
The sky darkened.
Clouds gathered unnaturally fast, rolling over one another as thunder growled from within. A pressure descended upon the land, pressing against my chest so heavily I nearly staggered.
Disciples poured out from their quarters, faces pale as they stared upward.
Saint Lu Qi's expression hardened. "An anomaly," he said. "Stay calm."
Then—
BOOM.
A thunderbolt crashed down from the heavens, striking the earth with such force that the ground shook violently. I nearly lost my footing.
A figure shot into the sky.
"Nem!" someone shouted.
My friend ascended swiftly, his aura flaring as he tried to investigate the disturbance. Instinctively, I stepped forward—
A hand grabbed my arm.
"Xiao Yan, don't!"
I turned.
Mi-An.
Her grip was tight, her face pale but resolute. "You have no powers. You'll die."
Before I could respond, she pulled me close—and ascended, carrying me for a brief moment before releasing me gently back to the ground.
I stared at her face, memorizing every detail as she rose higher and higher until she vanished into the storm.
Others followed. More disciples. More cultivators.
Even Saint Lu Qi ascended.
And I was left behind.