Qin Shou did not resist.
That was the third wrong thing.
Bound by suppression formations and surrounded by sect leaders, he stood calmly, hands clasped behind his back, as if attending a lecture rather than facing judgment.
"An explanation," Mo Yun said evenly. "You owe us that much."
Qin Shou inclined his head. "Fair."
He exhaled slowly, as though releasing a burden he had carried for decades.
"I am not from the Mountain Sect," he began. "Nor from any righteous sect."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"I am a disciple of the Void Eclipse Hall."
The name landed like a blade.
An ancient evil sect. One that did not seek conquest or slaughter—but corrosion.
Infiltration. Subversion. Long games measured in generations.
"They sent you here… how long ago?" Shen Yue asked.
Qin Shou's eyes grew distant. "One hundred and twelve years."
Even Li Chen felt a faint chill.
A century-long infiltration.
Qin Shou continued, unhurried.
"The Void Eclipse Hall does not believe in short victories. We believe civilizations rot from the inside. So we embed seeds. Not spies who steal secrets and flee—but lives."
He tapped his chest lightly.
"I was given a mission before I even stepped into this world:
Enter a righteous sect. Rise steadily. Never stand out. Never fall behind. Become indispensable."
"And the beast tides?" Han Zhi demanded.
"A tool," Qin Shou replied. "Nothing more."
He explained then—methodically, almost academically.
The beast tides were not directly controlled. Instead, subtle spiritual interference was used to amplify aggression, distort territorial instincts, and desynchronize natural migration patterns. The beasts believed they were acting naturally.
The signals Qin Shou sent were not commands—but corrections.
Guiding chaos.
"And the goal?" Mo Yun asked.
Qin Shou met his gaze.
"To weaken the border sects. Drain resources. Force cooperation under stress. And most importantly…"
He smiled faintly.
"To identify variables."
Li Chen felt that word settle on him like a shadow.
"Supreme talents," Qin Shou continued. "Irregular existences. People the Dao favors too strongly."
His eyes flicked—briefly, respectfully—toward Li Chen.
"You were not in my reports," Qin Shou said. "That… was unexpected."
"Why reveal yourself now?" Shen Yue asked.
Qin Shou chuckled. "Because my mission phase here is complete."
The leaders stiffened.
"I was never meant to escape," he said calmly. "I was meant to confirm."
"Confirm what?"
"That the upper realms have begun moving again."
The room went deathly still.
"The beast tides," Qin Shou said, "were not my idea. I merely facilitated them. The instruction came from above—from forces that even my sect answers to."
He closed his eyes.
"My role was to observe your responses. Your alliances. Your talents."
"And?" Mo Yun asked.
Qin Shou opened his eyes.
"You failed to break."
A strange pride entered his voice.
"And that… means the real pressure will come next."
Silence followed.
No one spoke.
Finally, Li Chen stepped forward.
"You said your mission is complete," he said quietly. "So what happens to you?"
Qin Shou smiled—truly smiled—for the first time.
"I die," he said simply. "Here. Now. As proof."
Mo Yun understood.
A dead infiltrator could not be interrogated further.
But a revealed infiltrator could not lie about one thing:
The storm to come was real.
As Qin Shou was taken away, the leaders exchanged grim looks.
They had caught the traitor.
But in doing so, they had learned something far worse.
This had never been about the lower realm.
It had been a test.
And somewhere far above, unseen eyes had been watching how they responded.