The news of a visitor from a demonic clan sent a quiet, yet palpable, ripple through the Green Mountain Sect's inner court. Demonic cultivators were not allies. They were, at best, a neutral, dangerous power to be avoided, and at worst, outright enemies. For one to arrive openly at their gates, asking for a specific, low-profile inner disciple by name, was an unprecedented event.
Li Yu, accompanied by a grim-faced Brother Kai, did not meet his guest in the idyllic peace of his own valley. Such a meeting required formality and the implicit presence of the sect's authority. He was escorted to a formal receiving hall near the Sect Master's peak, a grand, austere chamber reserved for greeting important, and often unwelcome, guests.
Two sect elders stood silently in the corners of the room, their presences a clear, unspoken statement: this meeting was taking place on Green Mountain Sect territory, under their watch.
Waiting in the center of the hall was the demonic clan's envoy. He was a tall, powerfully built man who seemed to be in his late middle age. His robes were a deep, blood-red, embroidered with subtle, black patterns that seemed to shift and writhe in the corner of one's eye. His face was sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and eyes that held a cold, predatory light.
A pair of short, sharp horns, the color of polished obsidian, protruded from his forehead, a clear marker of his demonic bloodline. The aura he exuded was potent and tinged with a faint, bloodthirsty sharpness, but it was tightly controlled, reined in with a discipline that spoke of immense willpower. This was Elder Kaelen of the Asura Demon Clan.
As Li Yu entered, the demonic elder's cold gaze swept over him, and a flicker of surprise passed through his eyes. He had clearly expected someone older, or perhaps more imposing. Nonetheless, he performed a formal, respectful bow, his fist clasped over his heart.
"Disciple Li Yu," Elder Kaelen's voice was a low, gravelly baritone. "I am Kaelen, an elder of the Asura Demon Clan. I thank you for agreeing to meet with me."
"Elder Kaelen," Li Yu replied with a polite nod, his own expression calm and unreadable. "Your clan fought with honor during the Beast Tide. You are welcome as a guest in our sect. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"I come bearing two things," Kaelen said, his expression serious. "First, the gratitude of my Clan Lord, Mo Jian. Your tireless efforts during the Beast Tide did not go unnoticed. We saw you battle through the horde for hours without rest, your power seeming endless as you saved not only disciples from your own sect, but many of our own clan's warriors who were overwhelmed. He has not forgotten this debt."
He gestured, and a heavy, iron-bound chest materialized beside him. With a soft click, he opened the lid. Inside, resting on beds of black silk, were several rare and potent-looking treasures.
There was a chunk of pulsating, blood-red ore that seemed to thrum with a fierce, vital energy—a Blood Soul Iron Vein. Beside it lay a trio of perfectly preserved, ink-black herbs whose leaves seemed to absorb the light—Asuran Nightshade, a potent ingredient for demonic cultivation pills.
"A small token of our clan's appreciation," Kaelen said. "The Clan Lord insisted."
Li Yu looked at the treasures. They were of immense value, especially to a demonic cultivator, and a clear sign of sincerity. "Your Clan Lord is too generous. Please, convey my thanks to him."
"I will," Kaelen said, his expression then shifting, the formal gratitude replaced by a deep, troubled weariness. "Which brings me to the second reason for my visit. A request. A desperate one."
He took a deep breath, the first sign of vulnerability he had shown. "Our clan, like many ancient lineages, is protected by a guardian beast. An ancient pact, made with our founding ancestor. The beast is our protector, our ally, and the very foundation of our clan's security. And it… is dying."
Li Yu's interest was immediately piqued. "Dying? Of what cause?"
"We do not know," Kaelen confessed, a note of frustration in his voice. "Three months ago, it fell into a deep slumber. At first, we believed it was merely a long period of cultivation. But it has not woken. Its life force, once as vibrant as a volcano, now dwindles with each passing week. It is a slow, agonizing decay. We have summoned every renowned beast master and alchemist in the demonic territories. None can diagnose the cause. They all say it is a strange, incurable malady of the soul."
He looked directly at Li Yu, his gaze intense. "Our guardian is a unique creature. It is an Earth-Striding Wyrm, a beast of immense terrestrial power that has lived for several hundred years. But our clan's ancestral home is nestled in a valley with a great, subterranean river. The Wyrm has spent its entire life laired beside this river, and over the centuries, its bloodline has absorbed a trace of the water element. It is this trace, this faint aquatic connection, that has brought me here."
His gaze sharpened. "News travels, even between righteous and demonic territories, Disciple Li. Whispers on the wind. We have heard of a young genius from the Green Mountain Sect with an almost divine understanding of aquatic beasts.
We heard of the Clearwater Jade Carp Clan's prosperity, of a rampaging deep-sea behemoth in Coralspire Harbor that was soothed and healed when all others had failed. The stories all point to one name. Yours."
Elder Kaelen took a half-step forward, his posture no longer that of an envoy, but of a petitioner. "On behalf of my Clan Lord, I have come to humbly request your aid. We invite you to our clan's territory, as our most honored guest. We ask you to lend your legendary skill to our guardian beast. Whatever your price, we will pay it. Spirit stones, rare treasures, ancient techniques… name it, and it is yours. We are desperate. You are our last hope."
He finished his plea, and a heavy silence descended on the hall. He stood there, a powerful demonic elder, waiting for the reply of a young, righteous sect disciple.
Internally, Kaelen was preparing himself for the inevitable refusal. He knew what he was asking. He was requesting that a prodigy from a righteous sect, a sect they had been at war with on and off for centuries, willingly travel deep into the heart of their demonic territory. It was an invitation that screamed 'trap'. No sane person would accept.
Their two sects were not friends. The truce born of the Beast Tide was a fragile, temporary thing. This journey was a fool's errand, a one-in-a-million shot born of absolute desperation. He had argued against it in his clan's council, but his Lord had insisted. 'The boy fought with honor,' Mo Jian had said. 'He sees beyond the titles of 'righteous' and 'demonic.' He is our only chance.' Kaelen had disagreed then, and he disagreed now. He expected a polite, but firm, rejection. He was already preparing his words of thanks for the audience, ready to make a dignified retreat.
Li Yu remained silent for a long moment, his calm, placid expression giving nothing away. He looked at the anxious, hopeful, yet ultimately pessimistic elder before him. He weighed the risks, the rewards, and the opportunity.
Finally, he spoke, his voice as calm and clear as a mountain stream.
"When do we leave?"