"Could he be..." The shadow cast a wary glance at the great elder. The great elder met his gaze and, after a moment of hesitation, gave a slight nod.
Stepping forward with a measured stride, the great elder's voice carried a cautious edge. "May I ask your name?"
Eli Shan's response came without a moment's delay. "No, you may not."
"You—!" The great elder's jaw clenched as frustration flickered in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed his anger. After a calming breath, he pressed on. "Then... may I inquire if you are around eighteen years old?"
Eli Shan's eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze locking onto the great elder like a hawk sizing up its prey. "I've been hearing that question quite a bit. Let me guess: you're searching for someone, someone whose only distinguishing trait you know is their age? And, of course, they must be exceptional."
Caught off guard, the great elder shifted uncomfortably under Eli Shan's piercing gaze. "This boy is sharp!" he thought, averting his eyes for a brief moment.
Clearing his throat, the elder straightened his posture, forcing himself to meet Eli Shan's gaze. "Yes, you are correct."
Eli Shan shook his head, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "What a pity—for all of you."
His expression shifted, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with mockery. "You see, I've been reflecting on my past encounters with shadows. And after much deliberation, I've reached a rather fascinating conclusion." He paused, savoring the tension in the air.
"The person you've been so desperately searching for..." His smirk widened, his tone laced with mischief and finality. "...might be none other than me."
Boom!
The atmosphere shifted violently as a suffocating pressure suddenly descended from the sky. A shadow, cloaked in impenetrable darkness, pierced through the sky like a harbinger of doom. Behind him, an army of thousands followed, each figure radiating an overwhelming aura that warped the very fabric of the air around them. Ripples of energy surged outward, distorting the surroundings and making even the bravest hearts falter.
At the forefront stood their leader, an imposing figure whose mere presence commanded absolute authority. Without a word, the shadows dropped to one knee in unison, their synchronized voices resonating with unwavering devotion.
"Leader!" they intoned, their body trembling in fear.
The Leader dismissed the crowd with a disdainful indifference, as though they were no more significant than ants. His gaze, sharp and penetrating, fixed directly on Eli Shan. Without hesitation, an overwhelming surge of spiritual sense erupted from the Leader's body, sweeping toward Eli Shan like an invisible tide. Yet, to his astonishment, it was as if the young man was a void—bereft of presence, cultivation, or even a hint of existence. Narrowing his eyes, the Leader murmured, "It must be him. If not for my eyes, I wouldn't even know he was a part of this world."
Abruptly, he retrieved a simple, unadorned mirror from his robes and held it toward Eli Shan. The artifact shimmered faintly as light began to gather upon its surface. But then... nothing. The light sputtered and dimmed, leaving the mirror as mundane as it appeared.
"This..." Yin Wuying's expression darkened, his calm demeanor breaking. "This is the first time the Fate Mirror has failed to reveal anything about someone." He clenched the artifact tightly, his tone shifting to grim determination. "It seems our search is finally over."
Straightening his posture, Yin Wuying fixed his unwavering gaze on Eli Shan. His voice, deep and commanding, rolled across the battlefield like a crack of thunder. "I am Yin Wuying, leader of the Shadow Clan. And I am certain—you are the one we've been seeking."
As his declaration echoed, the crowd instinctively followed his gaze. All eyes fell on Eli Shan, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and unease.
"They've been searching for Eli Shan?" one disciple muttered, his voice laced with confusion.
"But why?" another murmured, glancing nervously between Eli Shan and the imposing figure of Yin Wuying. "What does he want with him?"
Amid the murmurs, Eli Shan met Yin Wuying's piercing gaze, his expression calm but his eyes sharp. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "So, Yin Wuying, care to explain your true identity—and your true motive?"
Yin Wuying descended gracefully, his movements unnaturally fluid, as though the very air yielded to his presence. He landed without a sound, his figure looming before Eli Shan like a shadow-made flesh. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as his cold, steady voice broke the silence.
"Well," he began, his words dripping with measured arrogance, "now that I've finally found you, I believe we have all the time in the world to talk."
He took a step closer, the faint pressure of his aura rippling outward, suffocating the onlookers. His tone deepened, carrying an otherworldly weight that seemed to press on their very souls.
"I assume you already know—" Yin Wuying paused, his gaze narrowing as it bore into Eli Shan. "We are from the higher universe."
Eli Shan gave a slight nod, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, I am aware." His tone carried no surprise; he had already discussed this possibility with Jian Wu and Wen Lun.
But the others were not so composed. A ripple of disbelief and unease swept through the crowd. To the disciples and even the elders, the "higher universe" was not merely a distant plane—it was heaven itself, a realm of gods. And if Yin Wuying and his shadows truly hailed from there...
"They're... gods?" one disciple stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of the revelation.
"Gods," another whispered, eyes wide with terror. "We've been fighting against gods?"
The elders, usually pillars of composure, exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale. Memories of the battle against the shadows flashed through their minds—the overwhelming strength, the precision, the devastation. The truth was undeniable. Even a single shadow could have annihilated their entire sect without Jian Wu and Wen Lun.
"We're doomed," someone muttered, trembling. "What have we done? We've made enemies of the gods?"
"Should we... beg for forgiveness?" another elder asked, his voice trembling with desperation. "Perhaps if we grovel, they might spare us..."
A murmur of hesitant agreement rippled through the disciples, but one voice pierced the growing despair.
"But... if they are gods, then what does that make Jian Wu and Wen Lun, who killed them like they were mere ordinary cultivators?"
The question hung in the air like a bolt of lightning, striking everyone into silence. Slowly, heads turned toward Jian Wu and Wen Lun, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief.
"Maybe they are gods too?" the sect leader mused aloud, his words startling the disciples.
"Sect Master! When did you get here?!" a disciple exclaimed, his voice breaking with surprise. "Weren't you fighting someone off the planet?"
The sect leader's sudden appearance among them had left everyone visibly shaken. Just moments ago, they had assumed he was locked in a fierce battle far beyond their world. Yet, here he was—calm and composed.
"Ahem!" The sect leader cleared his throat, attempting to mask the awkwardness of the moment. "He, uh... retreated. Yes, quite unexpectedly." He tugged at his robe, as though adjusting his composure along with his attire.
The disciples exchanged wide-eyed glances, unsure whether to question further. The sect leader, however, smoothly shifted focus, turning his attention toward the shadows. His tone deepened as he declared, "Regardless, they are a force we must not make enemies of."
The disciples and elders fell silent, their collective thoughts aligned in fear and resignation. How could mere cultivators from a small universe hope to stand against beings from a higher one? It was like ants defying a storm. The strength of these beings wasn't just overwhelming—it was annihilating. A single shadow could destroy their whole universe, let alone a single sect.
Yin Wuying's sharp sneer broke through the whispers. He stepped closer, his imposing presence silencing the murmurs as he continued, "Nearly eighteen years ago, our sect master gave us a command. He ordered us to search for someone specific, to bring that person to him and make him his disciple."
"What?" one disciple gasped, disbelief and awe etched into his face. "Someone from the higher universe wants to take Eli Shan as a disciple?!"
"How... how lucky can one person be?" another whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of envy and admiration.
The onlookers' reverence grew, their eyes fixed on Eli Shan as if he had already ascended to divinity. But Eli Shan paid no mind to their reactions. Instead, a faint smile tugged at his lips, an expression that carried equal parts amusement and defiance.
"And what," Eli Shan said, his voice smooth and calm, "if I reject the offer?"
Yin Wuying's grin sharpened, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. His eyes gleamed with a sinister light. "Then, we have our orders—to annihilate your existence."
Eli Shan didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, each one radiating an unshakable confidence. His smile widened, but this time, it wasn't playful. It was sharp, dangerous—a predator's grin.
"I'd love to hear those words again," Eli Shan said, his voice dropping into a low, menacing tone, "right before I tear you to pieces."
For a moment, the battlefield seemed to freeze in time. Eli Shan's haunting grin stretched wider, an expression so unnerving it seemed to pierce through the very fabric of courage. The calm demeanor Eli Shan had maintained up until now dissolved like mist under the sun, replaced by an aura so overwhelming and haunting that it suffocated the air around him.
The shift in his presence wasn't just palpable—it was suffocating. It rolled across the battlefield like an invisible storm, crashing down with a weight so immense it seemed to warp the very air. Shadows staggered under the unseen pressure, their knees threatening to buckle. Even Yin Wuying, a seasoned warrior who had won countless battles and commanded legions without flinching, felt an icy chill coil around his spine.
His grip on his sword wavered for the briefest of moments, and his instincts betrayed him. Without realizing it, his feet moved—a single, hesitant step backward.
"Am I... scared of this boy?" The realization struck Yin Wuying hard, shame coiling in his chest like a venomous serpent.
Yet, he couldn't shake it. The aura radiating from Eli Shan wasn't that of a mortal—it was something far more terrifying, something Yin Wuying hadn't felt in a very, very long time... or perhaps he had never felt anything like this before!
However, retreating wasn't an option—not for someone like Yin Wuying. To step back now would mean inviting a fate far worse than death. A terrifying end loomed over him, forcing his resolve to harden like steel.
Clenching his fists, he pushed forward, his movements determined and heavy. He locked eyes with Eli Shan, meeting the young man's unwavering gaze head-on. "You've got guts," Yin Wuying growled, his voice low and steady, though a faint edge of frustration laced his tone. "But it seems... leaving you alive isn't a luxury I can afford."
The atmosphere between them grew electric, charged with a storm of tension that seemed ready to explode at any moment. Every breath felt like a countdown, the air thick with the unspoken promise of chaos and destruction.