A faint tremor ran through the violet mist as the eyes of the lone wolf, Greedfang, flickered open, unleashing a sliver of frigid light.

* * *

“These strange beasts are powerful, yes, but with my Sevenfold Demon Needles as their reins, they shall never soar beyond my grasp! To control the King Beast is to control the brood! Such aberrant creatures, properly wielded, shall grant me parley even with that doddering codger, Skyrender!” A flicker of self-satisfaction danced in Greedfang’s heart.

From the moment he descended into the Tidesworn Abyss, his plan had been meticulously unfolding. Originally, he had intended a binding formation, but when, within a fissure, he stumbled upon the slumbering Mosquito Beasts, initial terror gave way to a savage glee.

Greedfang, in his restless existence, knew no fixed abode. Drawn by whispers of treasure, he roamed the star-strewn void, earning the epithet “Greedfang treads where fortune lies.”

His journeys were countless. These Mosquito Beasts he had witnessed once before, a memory seared into his mind.

He had fled pursuit through the star-ways, stumbling upon an ancient gate. Upon emerging, he beheld a sight that would forever haunt him.

A vista of ashen skies framed a solitary world, violet in hue.

Swarming about this sphere, a boundless horde of Mosquito Beasts fused together, their combined aura so oppressive that Greedfang, without hesitation, fled back through the portal.

He preferred the wrath of his pursuers to the horrors that lay before him.

Thus, upon finding them dormant within the Abyss’s fissure, a plan took root. With the utmost caution, he unleashed his life-bound treasures: the Sevenfold Demon Needles. His spirit melded with them as they crept into the fissure.

All the beasts lay in torpor. Greedfang, remembering the dread of that forgotten star, trod lightly, lest he rouse their slumber.

At last, he found the King Beast. The instant the Sevenfold Needles pierced its hide, Greedfang retreated, sealing the fissure behind him.

This led to the scene witnessed by Dragonmark, one of those disciples. Now trapped in the violet mist, the crux of Greedfang’s grand design!

Greedfang cast a disdainful glance at the disciples of the Great Luo Sword Sect.

“Skyrender’s pups are all but useless, save for Dragonmark! I have ventured into this abyssal realm thrice since entering the land of the Demon-Spirits, and at last I am certain: within this violet mist lies the token that drew the gaze of Skyrender and Skyseer!

“A curious trinket. My observations reveal it appears only during specific celestial alignments and… requires a sacrifice.” Greedfang’s eyes lingered a moment too long on Dragonmark and the four remaining disciples.

“Were I not concerned about the residual sword-qi of Skyrender that courses through their veins, I would have subdued these whelps and offered them willingly! Instead, I must endure the tedious task of isolating them for a century, letting their fear fester.”

* * *

On the other side of the violet curtain, Wang Lin, guided by his celestial sword, drew near. At last, he felt the heavy air, permeated by that strange and violet fog. There was little doubt that this was the cause of his troubles, as it was blocking the way through the Fire Demon Prefecture.

“Wang Lin, my sword-sight cannot penetrate this fog. It is most peculiar. But fear not, those trapped within cannot perceive your presence,” Zhou Yi’s voice echoed from within the sword.

Wang Lin nodded, a thoughtful frown upon his brow. The force of the Tidesworn Abyss pressed ever harder upon him, requiring constant exertion of celestial power to remain aloft.

His eyes narrowed as he gazed into the violet haze. Then, a surge of energy pulsed from his storage pouch. He flickered a glance within, only to find the Mosquito Beast in a state of frenzy, its eyes glowing with a feverish crimson light. It chirped wildly upon sensing Wang Lin’s presence.

Wang Lin withdrew his awareness, surprised. The creature, usually obedient, had rarely exhibited such agitation. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened the pouch, releasing the beast into the void.

With a sharp cry, it darted towards the violet mist. Wang Lin, heart quickening, leapt from his celestial blade, following in pursuit.

Zhou Yi called out in surprise from the sword, and followed suit.

The violet mist seemed to pose no obstacle to the Mosquito Beast. It plunged within, vanishing from sight.

Alarm jolted Wang Lin. He could not fathom the creature’s sudden compulsion, but he was tethered to it by a thread of spirit. With a sigh, he resolved to deal with this later. He stilled his mind and drew strength from his sword. He began a slow ascent into the fog, as Zhou Yi’s sword danced around him, spreading its consciousness far and wide.

Greedfang remained unaware of the approaching cultivator. He was only able to perceive Wang Lin’s earlier clash with Skyrender because the shockwave traveled through the rock of the Abyss to the violet mist.

Within the fog, Wang Lin’s progress was glacial. The violet mist seemed to swallow all sense. He could not see, he could not smell, and all his attempts to touch it with his senses were in vain. He felt as if he were walking through time. The Marks of the Unborn World flickered upon his brow, layered one upon the other, providing an early warning system for dangers unseen.

Zhou Yi hovered beside Wang Lin, and spoke after a while.

“Wang Lin, ten leagues ahead is a clearing with six figures. One is strong, and five bear clothing that… strikes me as familiar.”

“Six figures?” Wang Lin muttered.

“I will take you there,” Zhou Yi hissed, and pulled Wang Lin’s consciousness free from his body, and drew it to the sight. The fog fell away, and before Wang Lin stood six figures.

“It’s them!” Wang Lin realized.

At that moment, the old man in the center of the group opened his eyes. A harsh light shone through them as he growled, “Who comes hither? I am Greedfang!”

Greedfang’s shout sent the disciples of the Great Luo Sword Sect bolting to their feet. All, that is, except Dragonmark, who’s eyes shone with an unnerving glee.

Zhou Yi returned Wang Lin’s consciousness to his body, and hid their presence once again. Greedfang’s face grew dark. He hissed, then tapped his storage pouch, but hesitated and left it closed.

The visitor’s mind was strange. Weak, and yet carrying something strong. To call upon such power, a sword saint that could tear apart a world! In his wounded state, Greedfang was not ready to fight. Ever since his battles, in the days of the Yin Yang, his strength had been diminished.

It wasn’t that Situ Nan was so strong, it was that once a cultivator falls from grace, the road to recovery is far longer. The Yin Yang realms were like the butterfly’s cocoon, fragile and sacred.

Greedfang may be at his wit’s end, but he was still one of the greatest treasures. The most powerful among them would think twice before challenging him, for Greedfang would always escape.

Zhou Yi carried Wang Lin to their body, and hid them from view.

“There are five disciples of the Great Luo Sword Sect, and one man named Greedfang!” Wang Lin muttered.

“Great Luo Sword Sect!? That’s why they are familiar. What should we do?” Zhou Yi hissed.

Wang Lin mused. “Something is wrong here. This Greedfang is strong, but so are these disciples. They all carry the breath of the sword saint. And I know that they have been missing for a hundred years. I have to wonder… What have they been doing?

“And Zhou Yi, did you see Dragonmark’s smile? He may be powerful, but none who reach his realm could be so clear in his eyes. Such joy could only mean one thing: a signal!

Wang Lin smiled, then nodded. “Those disciples are strange indeed. They are asking for help!”

Zhou Yi’s visage came forward, a look of pure shock on his face. How could such a simple boy be so powerful. A mere child, who would be nothing without his guidance, could think so far ahead.

Zhou Yi had been seeing him as a grateful friend. But now…

“Such clever thoughts, such keen eyes! How could anyone have such speed of mind? In mere years he has reached his realm. I was wrong…”