The sky above the Boreal Sea was a canvas of churning grey clouds and roaring wind, a tempest that would have terrified any mortal sailor. For the two figures poised above the waves, it was merely a backdrop. Li Yu stood with an air of profound tranquility, his simple robes untouched by the gale-force winds, a silent island of calm in a world of chaos. Below him, the colossal, serpentine form of Spine, the Gargantuan Spined Sea-Dragon, coiled and uncoiled in the turbulent water.
With a silent, mental command, Li Yu began his descent. The frigid, churning water of the Boreal Sea rose to meet him, but before it could touch his skin, a sphere of soft, opalescent light bloomed into existence, surrounding him completely. This barrier, woven from his pure, unified Koi Qi, was not a defense against the sea's pressure; his Abyssal Leviathan Physique had long since rendered such mortal concerns irrelevant.
It was a simple matter of comfort, a personal environment that kept him warm, dry, and allowed him to move through the crushing depths with the same effortless freedom as he did in the open air. He drifted down and landed gently on the broad, flat expanse between Spine's two magnificent, obsidian horns. It was a familiar perch, a living throne from which to survey his aquatic kingdom.
With a powerful, near-silent surge of his immense tail that sent a tidal wave racing across the surface, Spine plunged. The storm vanished, replaced by the deep, muffled silence of the sea. They left the grey twilight of the surface world behind, descending into a realm of deep, endless blue.
To Li Yu, this was not an alien environment; it was simply another garden, another territory to explore and, if worthy, to harvest from. His spiritual sense, a force as vast and profound as the sea itself, expanded outwards, sweeping through the depths for miles in every direction, taking a silent inventory of the local fauna.
He didn't have to wait long. His senses brushed against a large colony of creatures clinging to a rocky undersea cliff. They were Boreal Razor-Clams, a hardy Rank 3 species whose two-foot-long shells were lined with a naturally occurring metallic alloy, making them incredibly sharp. For another cultivator, harvesting them would require a careful, laborious battle.
For Li Yu, it was a simple act of will. A subtle, imperceptible pulse emanated from the Koi sanctuary deep within his spiritual sea. On the cliff face miles away, a significant portion of the clam bed—thousands of them—shimmered for a heartbeat and then simply ceased to be, their life force and physical forms reappearing in a newly designated, sandy-bottomed corner of his vast internal world.
He paused their descent, a faint, satisfied smile on his lips. It was time to let his own subjects stretch their legs. With a wave of his hand, three figures appeared in the water outside his opalescent barrier. First came his treasure-hunting team: the small, iridescent form of Caihong, the Seven-Colored Treasure Fish, whose very existence was a magnet for fortune, and its two formidable guardians, the Abyssal Water-Drakes, Ying and Zhao.
The two Rank 7 Overlords were sleek, powerful beings of midnight-blue, their draconic eyes sharp and cunning. The open sea was their natural element, and they moved through it with the silent grace of living torpedoes.
"Caihong," Li Yu projected his thoughts to the small fish. "This sea has its own history, its own hidden treasures. Go and see what secrets it is willing to share." He then addressed his more powerful subordinates. "Ying, Zhao. Your task is the same as always. Protect Caihong. Let nothing disturb her."
Caihong swam in a series of excited loops, its rainbow scales pulsing with anticipation, before it darted off into the gloom, its innate instincts already pulling it towards some distant, unseen glint of fortune.
Ying and Zhao followed, their powerful presence a silent, lethal warning to any creature that might think of the small, colorful fish as an easy meal. The trio vanished into the deep, a tiny seeker of fortune protected by two living calamities.
With his treasure hunters deployed, Li Yu signaled Spine to resume their journey. They continued their descent, a silent king riding his colossal vassal deeper into the heart of the Boreal Sea. As they went, the concentration of demonic beasts began to increase at an alarming rate.
More concerning, their auras were universally agitated, buzzing with an unnatural, frenzied aggression. A pack of Deep-Sea Tyrant Sharks, powerful Rank 4 beasts whose tough hides could turn aside normal steel weapons, sensed their passage. In a normal state, they might have been wary of Spine's immense presence. But their minds, clouded by a rage that was not their own, saw only a target. They turned and charged, a squadron of living battering rams.
Li Yu didn't even deign to look at them. He remained seated cross-legged on Spine's head, the picture of perfect tranquility. He didn't lift his staff or raise a hand. He simply used his qi to pressure them, with his current strength beasts of this level were much too weak.
The effect was absolute. The charging sharks, moments ago the embodiment of predatory fury, were slammed by a pressure that had nothing to do with the water.
The unnatural rage that had consumed them was snuffed out like a candle in a hurricane, replaced by a bottomless, instinctual terror. They froze in the water, their powerful bodies rigid, their minds blank slates of pure, unadulterated fear.
Li Yu casually appraised the paralyzed sharks from a distance. Their bloodline was decent, their forms powerful. He selected the pack's alpha, a particularly large and battle-scarred specimen, along with a dozen of the other strongest sharks. A familiar, silent summons from his sanctuary, and they vanished from the sea, destined for a new, more peaceful life as residents of his internal world. He ignored the rest, leaving them to drift in the current until their shattered nerves recovered.
This became the serene, almost monotonous pattern of their descent. Every few minutes, a new species would appear—a fifty-meter-long Frost-Vein Eel with an electrified hide, a colony of Stone-Carapace Turtles with shells that mimicked undersea ore, a solitary Boreal Leviathan Eel whose maw could swallow a whale. Each encounter played out in the same way.
The beasts, driven by an external madness, would attack. Li Yu would release a sliver of his aura. The beasts would be instantly subjugated. He would then act as a discerning farmer, selecting only the finest specimens for his collection and leaving the rest behind. The harvest was proving to be more fruitful than he could have possibly imagined.
His sanctuary, already a world teeming with vibrant life, felt as if it were enjoying a grand feast, the constant influx of new, potent life force from the Boreal Sea's unique fauna.
Their journey eventually led them towards a deep, abyssal canyon, a black scar in the seabed that seemed to drop away. As they neared its edge, a colossal shape rose from the oppressive darkness to meet them. It was an Arctic Kraken, a true Rank 4 Overlord of this little area, its immense, intelligent eyes glowing with a cold, territorial fury.
Its tentacles, each one thick as an ancient redwood and covered in razor-sharp suckers, churned the water into a vortex of raw power. It was a monster that inspired terror in many of the other creatures of the Boreal Sea.
For a single, heartbeat, its ancient, malevolent gaze fixed on Spine, recognizing a fellow sovereign, a challenger for its domain. Its massive body tensed, its beak-like maw opened, preparing to unleash a torrent of pressurized water that could punch a hole through a mountain.
Then, its gaze registered the true nature of the being it was facing. It wasn't just another powerful sea beast. The Kraken's ancient, predatory intelligence, honed over years of ruling its domain, screamed a single, deafening warning. The creature before it was not a challenger. It was an ancestral predator, an existence from a higher plane of reality, a being as far beyond it as it was beyond the plankton it fed on.
The Kraken's rage vaporized, replaced instantly by a singular, all-consuming emotion: absolute, soul-shattering terror. Its every instinct, every fiber of its monstrous being, shrieked at it to flee. Its colossal body contracted, preparing to jet away into the abyss with a speed that would shame a lightning bolt.
It was far too slow.
He stood up, his simple staff held loosely in one hand. He took a single, casual step and in the same instant, he appeared directly in the path of the fleeing Kraken. He swung his staff, not with explosive force, but with a simple, undeniable weight. The blow landed on the Kraken's massive, armored mantle with a dull, resonant thud.
The strike, containing a mere fraction of Li Yu's true physical power, sent a concussive shockwave through the water. The Kraken's immense body went rigid, its glowing eyes dimmed, and its world-crushing power vanished. The great beast was rendered completely unconscious, its massive tentacles drifting lifelessly in the current. Before its colossal form could even begin its slow descent into the canyon, it was claimed by the Koi sanctuary.
With the local overlord now part of his collection, Li Yu's senses focused on a strange, rhythmic pulse emanating from deeper within the canyon. It was faint, but persistent, an unnatural thrum that was not the product of any beast or geological phenomenon. It was the distinct, rhythmic pulse of a spiritual artifact, and interwoven within it, he could feel the faint, chaotic auras of a small group of humans.
"An artifact of this grade might be sensitive to large-scale spatial disturbances," Li Yu mused aloud. "Your true form might alert them, even if they can't see you. Revert."
Spine's colossal form shimmered, contracting with impossible, silent speed. The Gargantuan Spined Sea-Dragon, a being of primordial power, was once again replaced by the tall, silent, black-robed human warrior. As his form shifted, a new, form-fitting barrier of blue energy enveloped him.
Like two ghosts, they drifted silently and unseen into the canyon's depths. The unnatural, agitating pulse grew stronger, becoming a maddening, sub-audible hum that grated on the soul. Rounding a massive pillar of black, volcanic rock, they finally found the source.
On the canyon floor stood six humans, each encased in a shimmering blue barrier that effortlessly repelled the immense pressure of the deep. They were dressed in dark, functional robes made from waterproof beast hide, and their auras marked them as proficient cultivators. Their equipment and demeanor screamed of a single profession: beast tamers.
In the center of the group, one man held a large, intricately carved conch shell. It pulsed with the light of a high-grade artifact, its pearlescent surface covered in complex, glowing runes. The man was steadily channeling his spiritual energy into it, and the conch was emitting the silent, agitating wail that was warping the very nature of the sea.
All around them, hundreds of demonic beasts swam in frantic, aggressive circles, their eyes glowing with a feral red light. The conch's song was not a tool of precise control; it was a beacon of pure, amplified rage. Another man stood beside him, holding a faceted crystal that seemed to be focusing the wave of fury, aiming it like a weapon towards the surface, towards the coast, towards the helpless town of Seaside.
Li Yu watched from the silent, invisible darkness, his eyes turning cold. The mystery of the beast tide was solved. This was no natural phenomenon. It was a deliberate, man-made catastrophe, orchestrated by these men for some unknown, malevolent purpose.