The visitor arrived on the fifth day.
No grand entrance marked his coming.
No tearing of space.
No descending rainbow light.
No aura suppression.
He simply appeared at the border encampment's outer gate, walking calmly along the dirt path as though he had always been there.
The guards stiffened.
They could not sense his cultivation clearly.
It was there—Nascent Soul, unmistakably—but somehow… shallow. As if a deeper ocean lay hidden beneath a thin surface.
"I am here to observe," the man said politely, producing no sect token. "Please inform your leaders."
Mo Yun arrived personally.
The man wore plain gray robes, his features ordinary to the point of being forgettable. His eyes, however, were deep—reflective, like polished mirrors that showed nothing of themselves.
"You are?" Mo Yun asked.
"A traveler," the man replied. "Some may call me an inspector. Others, an observer. Names are unnecessary."
"What sect do you belong to?"
The man paused, then smiled faintly.
"I do not."
That answer sent a ripple through the gathered elders.
A cultivator without sect affiliation, appearing unannounced, possessing unclear cultivation, and yet standing calmly before five great sects?
Dangerous.
Mo Yun studied him carefully. "What do you intend to observe?"
The man's gaze drifted briefly across the encampment—over formations, disciples, supply arrays, and finally… past Li Chen, without lingering.
"Stability," he said. "And potential."
That was all.
No threats.
No demands.
No explanation.
And somehow, that was worse.