The underground streets of the capital of the Bifront Empire smelled of spilled wine and soot.
Inside a hidden stone hall, Jiàn Wúshuang and Lóu Jiàn were examining a map spread across a table of black jade. The two men, once stagnant legends of a lower world, now bore the appearance of predators in the prime of their thirties. Their smooth skin, broad bodies, and the Qi circulating through their veins were proof of the power Zhì Yuǎn had granted them two years earlier.
"The eastern routes are sealed," Jiàn Wúshuang said, pointing at the map. "The logistics for the Master's arrival are ready. Mèng Lián has already cleaned up three guilds that tried to oppose the Firmament Auction."
Lóu Jiàn let out a low, mocking laugh.
"Be careful what you say. If the redhead hears you calling her by her real name, she'll want to rip out your tongue before she even manages to kneel before the Master."
Jiàn Wúshuang frowned.
"Don't joke about that. She's spent the last two years entirely nurturing a sick obsession with the man who threw us here like disposable pieces. If she hears you talking like that, she'll want to prove she still has some value to him."
Lóu Jiàn shrugged, clearly unimpressed by the warning.
"Relax. If she wants to prove something, let her prove it to the Master, not to me. I accepted my place a long time ago."
Jiàn Wúshuang snorted, shaking his head. He knew Lóu Jiàn was being sincere. Unlike him, who still carried a remnant of his old pride, Lóu Jiàn seemed to have completely accepted the new hierarchy without major internal conflicts.
He opened his mouth to respond.
His voice died in his throat.
The Karma seed embedded deep in their chests burned. It was not a premonition or a cosmic warning. It was a physical tug, dense and brutal against their ribs. The anchor struck the souls of both slaves at the same time. Their master had just set foot in the world.
They dropped the maps. They did not exchange a single word.
They turned their backs on the table and sprinted down the stone corridor in a silent, desperate run. Six elite guards standing watch outside the door drew their weapons in alarm and ran after their leaders, completely confused by the sudden flight of the two coldest lords in the capital.
-----
The air above the forest split.
Lóu Jiàn and Jiàn Wúshuang descended from the sky, followed by the six elite guards. The trail of the karmic seed pulled them straight to that point along the stream.
Before their boots even touched the ground, a dull crash erupted from the water.
A wall of water rose dozens of meters into the air, raining down over the treetops. The men landed on the bank. The stream was still churning, stained with dark blood. Stretched across the shallow riverbed and crushing the branches of ancient peach trees lay the carcass of a five-hundred-meter-long serpent, torn apart.
The beast clearly possessed the lineage of a Ba She. Its thick body was sliced into dozens of pieces, and its colossal head rested in the mud with its forked tongue hanging out, dead eyes attesting to the brutal slaughter.
In the middle of the shallow water, beside the carcass, a woman dressed in a rustic travel tunic was clapping one hand against the other, brushing dust from her fingers.
Seated on the dry rocks along the bank, three other women and a middle-aged man watched the scene. Yù Qíng's illusion operated without flaw, dulling the glow of their skin, nullifying any trace of Qi, and maintaining the strict appearance of ordinary peasant women.
The six elite guards froze in place. They looked at the corpse of the mythical beast and then at the woman cleaning her hands. Shock silenced the patrol. The logic of the scene did not add up.
Lóu Jiàn and Jiàn Wúshuang narrowed their eyes.
They could not sense Zhì Yuǎn's aura. But they recognized that signature. The impeccable disguise. The rare magical beast slaughtered without effort.
Lóu Jiàn took a step forward, ignoring the serpent's remains.
"Where is the Master?" he asked in a loud voice.
On the rocks along the bank, Mò Yán stood up. Without saying a word, she took out the medallion and activated a spark of Qi against the runes.
Karma cracked.
The veil fell instantly for the two men. They felt the Laws. They felt the authority. They felt the leash binding them.
The two did not hesitate.
They dropped to their knees at the same time. The impact echoed across the rocks. Lóu Jiàn and Jiàn Wúshuang pressed their foreheads to the dirty ground, bowed at Mò Yán's feet.
"We greet the Ladies," they said in unison.
Lóu Jiàn continued, his tone slightly lighter than usual:
"This world has been waiting for your arrival."
Jiàn Wúshuang, on the other hand, kept his voice lower and more respectful:
"What are the Ladies' orders?"
Mò Yán put away the medallion and spoke calmly:
"Rise. We need a safe roof to wait for our husband. And have your men collect the core of this snake before we leave."
------
While Mò Yán gave her orders, thousands of kilometers away, the clear sky of the upper world thundered.
But Zhì Yuǎn was no longer there.
The spatial rift spat him back into the Chaotic Void. The storm of raw energy and gray sludge swirled around him as always, trying to unravel anything that dared exist within it. His cloak was torn to shreds in seconds. The skin on his arms and face was stripped away by the raw force of the chaos. Blood flowed, but he did not even feel it.
The pain in his flesh was irrelevant.
What truly hurt was the emptiness inside him.
The Hunger pounded against his ribs like a caged animal, blind with starvation. Zhì Yuǎn blinked in the dark, but his black eyes were no longer entirely present. Cold sweat mixed with blood ran down his chin while his gaze lost focus for a moment — as if something inside him was beginning to look outward. For a second, his instinct still tried to contain the weight of his Inner Universe, as he had done for all these years.
But here there was no sky. There was no ceiling to crack. There was no one to judge him.
He stopped suppressing it.
The Inner Universe descended, and the Chaotic Void came to a halt. The primordial storm that corroded everything it touched was crushed beneath his presence. For millions of kilometers in every direction, the chaos was forcibly stabilized. The gray sludge froze. The winds of energy died. The entire space transformed into a smooth, dark, and completely silent floor.
The silence was absolute.
In the middle of that dead calm, Zhì Yuǎn fell to his knees. His hands scraped against the static ground. The torn skin regenerated in seconds, but the hollow roar of his Dantian echoed loudly in the infinite darkness. The stars inside his chest remained extinguished.
He lowered his head between his shoulders, his broad body trembling. The hunger was no longer just pain in his stomach — it had become a living void in his guts, as if something inside him was trying to devour his own soul just to keep existing. He needed to find food. And he needed it soon.
It was then that a voice spoke inside his mind.
It wasn't loud or heavy. It was calm and slightly hoarse, carrying a light, almost amused tone — like an old man who had finally witnessed something that genuinely entertained him after a long time.
"Heh… What an interesting boy."
The voice held no malice. It held weight. An ancient, deep weight, as if whoever was speaking had already seen entire eras pass. Light as it was, it carried a natural authority, as if the Chaotic Void itself had fallen silent just to hear it.