Dreams That Refuse to Die
Xiao Yan returned to his room like a man whose soul had been hollowed out.
The door closed behind him with a dull thud, yet the sound felt distant, as though it belonged to another world. He stood there for a long while, unmoving, staring at the flickering candle on the table. His chest felt tight. Every breath scraped against his throat.
Mi-An's face rose again in his mind—her tears, her words, her back as she walked away.
His legs finally gave out. He sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. The silence was unbearable. His vision blurred, and before he could stop himself, tears slipped down his cheeks, one after another, soundless and heavy.
"I don't understand…" he whispered to the empty room.
The candle burned low.
Exhaustion eventually claimed him. His head fell forward, and he drifted into sleep.
The Dream
He was standing on a cliff.
The wind howled, cold and sharp, whipping against his robes. The sky above was vast and heavy, pressing down on him. Before he could move, footsteps echoed behind him.
A man in a blue robe approached calmly.
Xiao Yan turned, his heart pounding. He tried to speak, but no words came out.
Without hesitation, the man raised his hand and pushed him.
Xiao Yan fell.
The ground vanished beneath his feet, and the world spun violently. As he plummeted, he looked up in terror—only to see the man's body twist and expand, scales tearing through flesh.
A dragon roared.
The sound shook the heavens.
The scene shattered.
He was no longer falling.
Now he stood on a vast, unfamiliar land, endless and empty, the ground cracked beneath his feet. The sky was pale and lifeless. In the distance, he saw a figure kneeling.
"Mi-An!" he cried, rushing toward her.
She was crying.
Her shoulders trembled as tears streamed down her face. She looked up at him, eyes filled with pain and resolve.
"Xiao Yan…" she said softly, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry. Don't come to find me."
"Mi-An! What are you doing here?" he shouted, reaching out.
"Mi-An!!!"
She began to fade.
Her form dissolved into light, slipping through his fingers no matter how desperately he tried to hold on.
"No—!"
From the emptiness behind him, a presence emerged.
The Ansha.
He stepped out of nothingness, eyes cold, expression unreadable. Before Xiao Yan could react, the Ansha raised his hand and struck him squarely in the chest.
Pain exploded.
Xiao Yan jolted awake.
His body was drenched in cold sweat, breath ragged, heart pounding violently as though it would tear itself apart. He gasped and sat upright, hands gripping the bed as he shivered uncontrollably.
It was a dream.
Yet it felt too real.
Fragments rushed back to him all at once.
The Memory
Xiao Yan waking suddenly, thirsty, pouring himself water with shaking hands.
Nem arriving, his expression urgent.
"LuQi has returned. He wants to see you."
Xiao Yan following him, only to hear later that the Ansha had returned to the world.
The flashback ended.
Xiao Yan's eyes widened.
He leapt to his feet and rushed outside.
The Omen
The moment he stepped out, he froze.
The sky had changed.
Dark clouds churned violently overhead, twisting and colliding as though the heavens themselves were in turmoil. Wind swept across the sect grounds, carrying an oppressive pressure that made cultivators stumble.
"What's this supposed to mean?" Xiao Yan muttered, dread crawling up his spine. "Why is this happening?"
Footsteps hurried toward him.
Nem appeared, his brows furrowed.
"What happened?" Nem asked sharply.
Xiao Yan clenched his fists. "Just a dream."
He turned as if to head back inside—
Then a deafening crash split the air.
Xiao Yan spun around.
There, standing calmly on a rooftop, was a familiar figure.
The Ansha.
His robes fluttered in the violent wind, his presence alone crushing the surroundings into silence.
"It is the Ansha! Kill him!" Nem shouted.
At once, disciples and demons surged forward, weapons drawn, spiritual energy flaring wildly. Di'or's voice joined Nem's, urging them on.
The saints arrived moments later, standing shoulder to shoulder as they quickly formed a defensive formation.
The Ansha looked down at them.
And smiled.
Absolute Suppression
Xiao Yan's blood boiled.
Mi-An's departure, her tears, her words—all of it crashed into him at once, igniting rage and grief in equal measure.
"You nothings!" the Ansha said calmly.
He raised his hand.
One strike.
A single wave of power erupted outward.
The ground cracked violently as everyone was flung away like leaves before a storm. Bodies slammed into walls and pillars. Cries of pain echoed through the air.
Before anyone could recover, the Ansha stepped forward.
A terrifying force spread from him as he began to drain their powers. Spiritual energy was ripped from their bodies, flowing into him like mist drawn toward a vortex.
"Today," he said coldly, "you all will feel a pain worse than death."
"How dare you stir up trouble? Ansha!! I'll end you today!" LuQi roared, forcing himself to his feet.
The Ansha turned to look at him.
His face was calm.
Almost bored.
With a casual sweep of his hand, LuQi was sent flying. He crashed heavily against the ground and did not rise again.
"Their core essence is about shattering!" Nem screamed in panic.
Xiao Yan stepped forward, teeth clenched.
"I shall engage the Ansha! Take them to safety!"
Before anyone could move—
The Ansha lifted a finger.
A strand of terrifying power shot out and wrapped around Nem, pinning him helplessly in midair.
Then the Ansha turned his gaze to Xiao Yan.
"Xiao Yan," he said quietly, yet his voice thundered in Xiao Yan's mind, "I told you to wait for my return."
Power surged.
In an instant, the Ansha unleashed his strength, packing everyone—disciples, saints, demons—
And Xiao Yan himself—
Into his grasp.
The world shook.
And darkness loomed closer than ever.