The Confrontation on the Cliff
The wind howled violently as Xiao Yan, Nem, and Saint Lu Qi arrived at the edge of the cliff. Clouds churned below like a bottomless abyss, carrying with them the echoes of a battle fought a thousand years ago.
Beneath a solitary, ancient tree, a single figure waited.
The Ansha.
His blue robes fluttered gently, untouched by the storm. His presence alone seemed to steady the air, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
"A thousand years ago," the Ansha said calmly, his voice cutting through the wind, "we stood here. Time moves forward… yet nothing truly ends."
Xiao Yan stepped forward, eyes blazing. "You're wrong. A thousand years ago, you pushed me from this cliff. This time, I'll be the one to end it."
A faint smile curved the Ansha's lips.
Xiao Yan attacked.
His sword descended with godly force—but the Ansha moved as though he had already seen the strike. He stepped aside effortlessly and delivered a single kick.
Xiao Yan was sent crashing across the stone, blood spraying from his lips.
Nem struck from the side, dark power roaring outward.
The Ansha turned and struck once.
Nem slammed into the cliff wall, bones cracking, collapsing to the ground in silence.
Xiao Yan forced himself up and attacked again. Nem rose and joined him. Their combined power surged forward—but the Ansha raised a single hand.
The storm froze.
Every strike, every technique, every ounce of killing intent was stopped—held in place by sheer dominance.
"You think power alone decides victory," the Ansha said quietly. "You thought the same thing a thousand years ago."
"This time I'll win!" Xiao Yan roared, desperation igniting his aura as he forced himself forward.
That was when it happened.
GONG—
The Golden Eternal Bell rang.
The sound pierced heaven and earth.
The Ansha stiffened. His expression twisted for the first time as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
He staggered back.
"…Where did you get that?" he hissed.
Saint Lu Qi rang it again.
GONG—
The sound rippled through space itself. The Ansha dropped to one knee, his aura trembling violently as the bell's resonance tore at his very essence.
Lu Qi rang it again—harder.
The Ansha fell to the ground.
Slowly, grimly, he forced himself upright—only to collapse once more, blood spilling freely as the bell's power crushed him down.
Xiao Yan stepped forward, sword trembling in his hand.
"Ansha," he said, voice shaking with fury and resolve, "you've caused enough destruction. This ends now."
The Ansha looked up at him, eyes burning—not with fear, but with something close to sorrow.
"Righteous?" he began. "There is no righteous one among you. All of you are—"
GONG—
The bell silenced him.
"Kill him!" Nem shouted sharply, panic leaking through his voice. "Do it now!"
Xiao Yan raised his sword.
His hands trembled.
This was the moment.
One strike would end the Ansha. One strike would end a thousand years of fear. One strike would decide the fate of the world.
And yet—
Somewhere in the wind, something felt wrong.