The three-year deadline had arrived. At the edge of the Abyss of the Frozen Moon, a group of elders and disciples gathered, led by Sect Master Zhao Cang. Most expected to find nothing but a frozen corpse or a pile of purple dust. Lin Shara stood apart from the rest, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.
"The seal is opening," Zhao Cang announced, his voice echoing over the chasm.
Before the sect's guards could lower the recovery ropes, a sound like a thousand mirrors shattering rose from the depths. A pillar of absolute cold, tinged with a terrifying violet light, erupted from the Abyss, piercing the clouds above.
A figure emerged, walking horizontally up the vertical cliff side as if gravity were a mere suggestion. It was Yun Caos. At thirteen, he had grown tall and lean. His skin was no longer pale; it had a crystalline, translucent quality that seemed to absorb the sunlight. His movements were fluid, devoid of any wasted energy.
When his feet touched the snowy ground of the summit, the temperature for hundreds of meters dropped instantly. The disciples nearest to him fell back, their own Qi flickering in fear. The silver needles were gone, and in their place, a faint, pulsing violet mark shaped like a crown of thorns shimmered on his neck.
"You survived," Zhao Cang said, his eyes narrowing as he felt the sheer density of the boy's body. "But you feel... empty. Where is your Qi?"
Yun Caos looked at the Sect Master. There was no malice in his gaze, only a terrifying indifference. "I don't need Qi. I have become the Void itself."
To prove his point, Yun reached out and touched a nearby ancient pine tree, a plant reinforced by the sect's spiritual energy for centuries. Without a sound, the tree didn't break or burn; it simply turned into fine, gray ash and was absorbed into Yun's palm.
The silence was broken by Shara's gasp of relief, but the other elders drew their swords. Yun Caos was no longer a child to be judged—he was a predator that had outgrown its cage.