On an island within the Wild Tide Region, there stood a castle. Hundreds of rooms filled the castle, yet fewer than a hundred people resided within its walls. Deep within the castle, in a vast underground chamber etched with formations, half the residents circled the room. Each of them sat cross-legged, their faces scrunched in agony. Blood leaked from the mouths of some, as if they had just suffered blows that ruptured internal organs. Some cried, some endured silently, while many groaned, as if invisible hands were grinding their bones.

Han Guilin was one of them, yet his expression was vastly different. While he felt his body wracked with agony, he endured without flinching. He was used to pain. Physical pain this intense was new, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. He always thought of his heart as a tiny jar containing a raging storm that wanted to escape and kill every living being in the world, tear the earth apart, and even pull down the heavens. That metaphorical jar always trembled, as if the lid were about to fly open at any moment, but he hugged the jar tightly, trying to contain the storm within.

As his face remained as serene as a statue while his heart raged on, he endured the physical pain coursing through his body, a pain like invisible hands trying to tear him apart.

Han Guilin was a disciple of the Nether Lotus Sect—an inner disciple, no less. But after the sect's... expansion, and now in a state of war, Han Guilin had been asked to serve under Han Jiulao, the clan patriarch because of his space affinity.

He, along with other members of the Han clan, the patriarch's disciples, and talented individuals affiliated with the patriarch, were trying to keep the Teleportation Formation open so the Patriarch could use it to escape.

Han Guilin was not from the main branch of the Han clan. He was the son of a bastard who had decided to surrender himself to the Han clan, married a slave, and died from suffocation. His mother had been accused of killing his father, but he knew better. He knew better.

Han Guilin endured the physical pain for some time until finally, a flash of yellow light spread from the center of the formation. The dark, barely illuminated room was suddenly flooded with yellow light. The agonizing pain intensified, searing his insides as if he had just gulped boiling magma. Han Guilin grimaced slightly, while his... acquaintances cried out as if someone were trying to tear their heads off.

A moment later, the pain subsided, the blinding yellow light receded, and the patriarch appeared in the center of the formation. One of his arms was severed at the shoulder, the other at the wrist. His body was coated in black fire, but it soon vanished, as if blown away by a strong wind. Then, the elder began gushing blood from his battered body and all his orifices. He coughed out several mouthfuls of black blood, and his body crumpled to the ground like a blood-soaked rag. Yet, his face remained scrunched in anger, and he began growling like a beast.

From that point, the disciples of Han Jiulao, his direct descendants, people from branch families, even slaves, began to move swiftly. They brought the best healer, talismans, pills—everything that might save the patriarch from his grievous injuries. After the patriarch was successfully evacuated, rumors spread that he wouldn't make it. His injuries were severe, but what made them critical was that his body had been abused beyond belief. It was as if the elder had just fought an army of cultivators for three days and nights and had barely escaped alive. Rumors began circulating about the Mirror Tides Empire finally beginning their retaliation.

Han Guilin knew better. His space affinity was decent, his status decent, his strength decent. Nothing about him suggested he was notable, but that was by design. Han Guilin, after all, was currently deep in enemy territory. He needed to blend into the background to ensure his survival and the completion of his mission. As for retaliation from the Mirror Tides Empire, he knew more than the people around him; there was no way he would be late learning if the empire had already moved. This made the patriarch's condition quite curious.

"What happened to him?" he muttered.

The Han patriarch had been placed inside his private room, located on the highest floor of the castle. Directly below it was the room of one of his concubines, but the wall between these two rooms was so thick that if an elephant were stuck within it, the tremors from its movements could not reach either room.

After reporting to the Medicine Hall and receiving a generous amount of healing pills, he used his secret technique to materialize inside a small pocket hidden between these walls. Array formations, talismans and treasures coated this pocket room, ensuring that even the Han Patriarch could not detect his presence. In this hidden space, he used his space affinity and a subtle technique given by his benefactor to eavesdrop on everything inside the patriarch's room.

"That bastard! I'll kill him!" The patriarch then began coughing, and coughing, and coughing, as if he were a mortal with lung problems. From the sound, Han Guilin knew that each cough was accompanied by blood coming out from his mouth.

"Please restrain yourself," said the healer. "Your body is in critical condition. You need to focus and recover your qi."

"How dare you order me?!"

"I'm your doctor, patriarch. If you want to kill me, you can freely do so, but please, do that after you listen to me." The healer then began to tell him what the mother of Han Jiulao would have said to him, and while grinding his teeth, the patriarch calmed down.

Upon hearing this conversation, Han Guilin raised his eyebrows. He had heard rumors that this specific healer was old, making it plausible he knew the patriarch's mother. But it was still unexpected. To think there was someone whose voice and opinion the patriarch heeded, besides his superior. Han Guilin noted this as information worth reporting. Perhaps his benefactor could devise a strategy using the healer.

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The patriarch's coughing fit began anew, and the healer attended the patriarch for a full hour before his coughing fit finally receded.

"When will I fully recover?" asked the patriarch.

The healer moved around the room, then the sound of clinking bottles and grinding could be heard. Han Guilin assumed the healer was preparing some medicine for the patriarch. He worked for a while before finally answering his question. "Your qi paths were damaged, your cores were cracked and broken, even your consciousness almost collapsed. It's almost a miracle that you can be grumpy. If it were me, I would just lie down there and recover silently."

"Did I ask for your opinion, old bastard?" he snorted. "You think I am so ignorant that I don't know the state of my own body and soul?"

"You were indeed asking me for my opinion. Perhaps I need to examine your head too."

"Just answer my damn question!" The patriarch shouted. "I need to recover as soon as possible. Senior Hou Qiang, and that bastard Wei Shuren, they died. If I don't recover sooner, it will be a catastrophe. I need to kill that bastard with my own two hands as soon as possible."

He could hear a clink from above, followed by a crack. He could imagine the healer accidentally dropping something—perhaps a bottle of a priceless ingredient—bouncing once on the floor and then shattering. Han Guilin understood why the healer might make such a mistake. He must have been shocked; after all, even Han Guilin, pressing his ear tightly to the wall, felt his own eyes and mouth fall open.

Han Guilin could not help but say, "Hou Qiang and Wei Shuren died? Both of them, at the same time? How?"

Both men were among the most prominent elders within the Nether Lotus Sect. Both were part of the Six Elite Elders and were the sect's most fearsome fighters. The patriarch was one of them, but while he was number six, Wei Shuren was number five, and Hou Qiang was number two.

"It's huge," he muttered silently, his heart hammering so fast it felt like it would burst from his chest. "Two of the Six Elite Elders are dead!"

It was as if a mountain that had stood for centuries had suddenly shattered. For the Nether Lotus Sect, it was a heavy blow. But for his benefactor within the Mirror Tides Empire, this was a golden opportunity. He felt a strong urge to vanish from the pocket space immediately and report to his benefactor. Even knowing the Mirror Tides Empire was filled with hypocrites, opportunists, and arrogant fools, he believed that if they could gather their power quickly, they might have a chance to stop the Nether Lotus Sect. Still, he restrained himself. He still didn't know who had dealt this lethal blow.

As if mirroring his thoughts, the healer asked his question. "How? Who could do such a thing?"

"I don't know," he could imagine the patriarch shaking his head. "I don't know his name. He is probably an outsider, and there's a chance that he is from one of the great sects. Possibly Heavenly Thunder Sect."

"A great sect!" the healer exclaimed, also mirroring Han Guilin's surprise. "How can that be possible? Aren't we backed by the Purple Moon Sect?"

"I don't know. I also don't understand. Either way, I cannot let him live much longer. If the Patriarch and the Young Master knew that we failed their mission, then they would certainly--"

"Certainly what?"

A new voice suddenly could be heard. Upon hearing this voice, Han Guilin's eyes widened more and more. "That voice..."

He knew that voice. As an inner disciple of the Nether Lotus Sect, he had seen the patriarch several times. Every time he saw him, the patriarch had always looked calm and composed. Sometimes, there was a young master that followed him. The young master was a man named Ye Xuanhan. When he saw him the first time, with his handsome face, melodious voice, as well as his charming smile, he imagined that he was a kind and generous person. Yet, the fact was the opposite. Nether Lotus Sect was a demonic sect trying to hide in plain sight, so most people, while their way to advance was demonic, maintained a normal appearance. This included the techniques they learned. Not this young master. His techniques were dark and sinister and full of agony.

And that young master was currently above him. True, they were separated by thick walls, but the young master at the peak of the Core Splitting realm was not Han Jiulao, so the treasures, talismans, and formations hiding the pocket space he currently used were not suited for him.

Han Guilin's heart beat faster. "No, perhaps it's not true. If the patriarch cannot detect me, perhaps others cannot too."

He inhaled deeply. Anxiety began rolling in his stomach, but he decided to stay. This was a rare opportunity. Perhaps he could glean information that could surely be used by his benefactor to achieve their goal.

"Han Jiulao greets young master!" the patriarch said, followed by the healer.

"Han Jiulao," the young master said with a cheerful tone, like a man glad to meet his friend. "I came here to retrieve the goods by myself. I'm excited to finally have thirty toys to play with at the same time. Imagine my surprise when news came back about you teleporting in with grievous injury? What happened?"

Han Guilin pressed his ear harder.

"Toys? Is this code?" he muttered.

The mission given to three of the Six Elite Elders was so secretive that no one knew what it was. He suspected only the patriarch, the young master, and the rest of the Six Elite Elders knew about it.

He anticipated the patriarch of the Han clan would reply swiftly, but instead, silence permeated the room above. He could imagine the patriarch beginning to sweat profusely. Evidently, the crucial mission had ended in disaster, with Wei Shuren and, more importantly, Hou Qiang dead.

As the silence stretched, his heartbeat beating faster and faster, a stray thought came to his mind, and he wondered how Ye Xuanhan had suddenly appeared in the room above. He could usually detect disturbances in space itself. If someone had walked in, he would have known. Even teleportation left ripples he could sense. But it was as if the young master had materialized from thin air, which was deeply concerning.

Finally, the patriarch replied. "Me, Wei Shuren, and Hou Qiang had successfully procured all the targets. They were in pristine condition. Ready to be delivered to you to be used as you please. But, on the way back, after we secured the last person, two... adversaries appeared. We fought. One inflicted grievous injuries on me and successfully killed Wei Shuren and Senior Hou Qiang." He took a deep breath.

Han Guilin could hear a single drop of liquid splash onto the floor. The sound was so soft, yet, in that silent room, it might as well have been the sound of a gong. He knew it was sweat falling from the patriarch's chin. He must have been sweating buckets. Which was understandable. Failure in a mission was harsh for anyone in the Nether Lotus Sect. Moreover, he assumed this had been a vital mission. Failure would not be tolerated.

"Huh? I think I misheard you. You.. failed the mission? Are you sure?"

"...yes," the elder replied.

Then, Han Guilin suddenly felt a foul qi wash over him, one so bone-chilling it made his teeth chatter, his body tremble uncontrollably, his qi churn chaotically, his lungs seemed to freeze solid, and his heart hammered so fast it felt like it would explode from his chest. His instinct screamed at him to run. His body agreed, and he almost cycled his qi to activate his escape technique and get the hell away from there.

The qi radiating from Ye Xuanhan was terrible—fast, heavy, suffocating—as if he were standing before a sentient mountain formed of chattering corpses, all laughing with an eerie, synchronized sound. A single touch from him guaranteed death.

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