The Eyes of the First DaeSha — Warnings from the Saints
As Nem and Di'or were carried away to recover, the air around the remaining Saints grew heavy with unspoken tension. The vast hall that once felt immovable now seemed fragile, as though the very foundations of the sect could sense the uncertainty gripping its guardians. None of them spoke at first. They stood in a loose circle, their expressions grim, their gazes distant, each weighed down by the same unrelenting thought.
The trials were progressing far too quickly—and far too brutally.
Saint Gil U of the Ui Wu Sect stepped forward.
Even among the Seven Saints, his presence was overwhelming. His back was straight despite his age, his long robes hanging still as though the world itself dared not stir around him. His cultivation ran so deep it was impossible to measure, layered through centuries of refinement beyond mortal comprehension. When he spoke, the air seemed to listen.
"How is Mi-An holding up?" he asked at last.
His voice was deep, steady, and commanding, yet beneath it lingered genuine concern. His sharp gaze shifted toward the distant projection of the trials, where Xiao Yan and Mi-An remained locked within the formation.
"Xiao Yan has no powers," Gil U continued, his brows knitting together slightly. "How can she survive with him?"
The question struck the others like a blade.
Low murmurs rippled through the group as the Saints exchanged glances. None of them answered immediately, because none of them had a satisfying answer. The reality was harsh and unavoidable. Xiao Yan's lack of cultivation placed Mi-An at constant risk, forcing her to fight not only for herself—but for him as well.
Saint Gil U closed his eyes briefly.
His thoughts drifted beyond the present trial, beyond the surviving disciples, toward the shadow looming over the martial world. The Ansha. A being whose mere presence shattered balance, whose power bent laws that should never yield.
To defeat such an existence, ordinary strength would never suffice.
What they needed was something far greater.
A DaeSha.
The thought alone carried weight enough to still the Saints' breathing. The DaeSha was not merely a level of cultivation—it was a transformation of existence itself. A being whose power was governed solely by will. No restraints. No limitations. A force capable of leveling the heavens and standing unchallenged before fate.
And such a being had never existed.
Saint Lu Qi finally spoke, his voice quiet but resolute, cutting through the murmurs.
"The training of the disciples is far more than a test," he said, his eyes darkened with concern as he watched the projections flicker. "It is preparation for the Ansha."
The words settled heavily upon them.
"If they fail," Lu Qi continued, his tone measured but strained, "we fail."
He paused.
"And if we fail…"
His voice trailed off, but none of the Saints needed him to finish the thought. The consequences were already etched into their minds. The collapse of the martial world. The fall of the sects. Countless lives reduced to nothing beneath an unstoppable force.
Silence followed.
A deep, suffocating silence.
Each Saint stood lost in their own contemplation, gazes fixed on nothing and everything all at once. The trials unfolding before them—brutal as they were—now seemed insignificant compared to what awaited beyond. These challenges were merely the opening steps, a cruel prelude to a confrontation that would reshape existence itself.
They understood now.
The trials were not meant to forge disciples.
They were meant to reveal survivors.
And whether those survivors would be enough to face the Ansha… remained terrifyingly uncertain.