The Consciousness of the Ansha
Xiao Yan found himself standing in darkness.
"Where am I…?"
A faint light appeared, forming into the figure of an old man—familiar, aching.
"Who are you?" Xiao Yan whispered.
"I am your grandfather."
Xiao Yan's breath caught.
"Grandfather? Why are you here?"
"The Ansha keeps me here," the old man said gently.
"I'll take you out," Xiao Yan said urgently.
"There must be a way."
The old man shook his head.
"This is the last shard of my soul. I cannot be saved."
Xiao Yan clenched his fists.
"Then tell me how to end this."
"Destroy the Ansha's inner core," the old man said.
"It lies within his internal alchemy—his knee. One precise cut."
"And the weapon?"
"The God-Destroying Sword. Only demons united can forge it."
Xiao Yan's voice trembled.
"And if I do this… the world will be saved?"
"And your memories restored."
Before Xiao Yan could speak again, the figure faded.
"Go!" the voice echoed. "Go, Xiao Yan!"