Lulu—the ponytailed girl—felt like a puppet with its strings severed. Every drop of strength drained from her body; a suffocating terror gripped her throat.

  Her wide eyes brimmed with raw fear. The talent she had always prided herself on now seemed pitifully insignificant before the ancient crone.

  Her gaze dropped to the old woman's face, shriveled like ancient bark. The pattern of the Sanctuary emblem on her crown stood out painfully clear.

  "This girl possesses remarkable talent—a rare vessel indeed. She is yours to handle now."

  Faced with the nearly choking girl, the crone released her grip and flung her aside. Lulu slammed into the cold stone wall, crumpling to the floor in a heap. Blood sprayed from her mouth as she coughed violently.

  "Thank you for your mercy, Spirit Lord!" the Ice-Evil Cultivator bowed deeply. "I will forge her into your most loyal servant! Girl—thank the Spirit Lord!"

  Hearing the cultivator's words, Lulu gritted her teeth against the agony, forced herself upright, and dropped to her knees.

  It's over. I've bitten off far more than I can chew this time. I might not make it out alive. I have to bow my head—I can't die here.

  With that thought, she feigned utter devotion, pressing her forehead hard against the floor. "Thank you for sparing my life, Spirit Lord. Your servant is willing to walk through fire and water for you—to join in your great endeavors!"

  "You learn quickly." The crone's raspy voice trembled with barely contained excitement. "Han shuang, make the preparations. Guard me well. It is time to shed this decayed, worn-out skin."

  She turned and shuffled toward the central altar in the crypt, where a dark, pulsating ritual array shimmered ominously.

  On that altar, Timo Yang's eyes burned with utter despair—a sight that seared itself into Lulu's mind.

  Shed her skin? What does this old hag mean? Is she human... or ghost? Why did all my strength vanish the moment she touched me? I can't sense any life force from her—not even spiritual energy...

  Wait... that's the wind-boy on the altar? Timo Yang was hunting the Windspirit Hare... How did he end up here? If he's captured, then Fei must be...

  "Come with me."

  The Ice-Evil Cultivator materialized before her, cutting off her racing thoughts. Cold fingers clamped Lulu's arm, yanking her to her feet and dragging her toward another section of the crypt.

  No use panicking now. Survival first. If I don't make it through this, I'm no good to anyone later.

  Lulu obeyed without resistance, complying with whatever the cultivator demanded.

  Meanwhile, bound at the heart of the ritual altar, Timo Yang felt like a lamb awaiting slaughter. He could see, but he could neither speak nor move.

  Dark vapors swirled before him, carrying a chorus of despair. Trapped in the array, the sounds overwhelmed him—like demonic claws from the abyss gripping him in an unbreakable hold.

  Suddenly, an icy gust poured through a breach in the ceiling, brushing coldly against Timo's terrified face.

  The wind stirred memories of his sister's hand-signs: *Wind. Listen to its melody. The secrets of life and time ride upon it...*

  Timo recalled Yue's gentle smile, her signs flowing like an elegant dance.

  Happier times flooded back: flower scents carried on breezes, the aroma of roasting meat. Laughter and songs of people, the breaths and calls of spirit beasts—all echoed in his mind.

  As these memories filled him, his body relaxed. Tension melted away; his consciousness seemed to merge with the flowing air, drifting lightly upward through the ceiling breach.

  His spirit rode the gravewind, weaving through rotten wood and thorns of the Blackwood Forest, until it reached the sun-dappled edge of the dense trees.

  High in the canopy at the forest border, Captain Rui Guo stood on a platform of condensed earth. Her sharp eyes instantly registered the shocking battle scars below. Without hesitation, she leaped down.

  "Vengeful spirit energy... an Evil Cultivator! How is this possible...?"

  Following the tainted scent in the soil, her gaze traced the scorched earth until it landed on Fei—rigid in the mud, a horrific bloody hole gaping in his abdomen.

  "My son!"

  Rui Guo threw herself beside him, fingers trembling as she checked his neck for a pulse. Only when she felt its faint, stubborn throb did the knot in her chest loosen slightly.

  She knelt reverently on the ground, palms glowing with earth-element spiritual energy as they pressed into the soil.

  "Mother Earth, nurturer of all things—your servant's child needs your aid!"

  As Captain Guo prayed, a powerful earthy-yellow force erupted from her hands. The corrupted, burned ground beneath Fei began to revive visibly—fresh grass and flowers sprouting across it.

  Fei gasped, searing pain exploding through his organs. The grievous abdominal wound lay exposed.

  "Auntie Guo! Sister Yue! Fei's hurt...!" Wanwan's cry pierced the forest silence.

  At the shout, two white-robed medics rushed to the scene. Leading was Timo Yang's sister, Yue Yang—face etched with frantic worry.

  She'd been gathering herbs on the mountain with her companion when the cries drew them here without delay.

  "Yue, Wanwan—what are you doing out here?"

  Tears welled in Yue Yang's eyes as she knelt, clutching Fei's hand and channeling spiritual energy to assess him.

  "Sister Yue wanted to restock herbs," Wanwan explained quickly. "More warriors are injured every day—the Alliance supplies are running low!"

  Yue Yang nodded urgently, hands flying in graceful signs: *With Mother's sacred relic, I can repair his organs and meridians! No time to lose. Wanwan—call reinforcements and guard me!*

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  Wanwan fired a red signal flare skyward, then wove a concealing mist around them.

  Seeing Yue activate her Purifying Spirit Eye, Captain Guo stood abruptly, striking her chest. "I leave my son in your hands. I swear on my life—I will not let anything happen to Timo!"

  With that, she strode out of the mist, reaching the bridge into the Blackwood Forest.

  "Ah!"

  "Wanwan—put him under!"

  Hearing her son's pained cry from the scorched remnants of the broken bridge, Rui Guo's heart clenched. She looked up at the massive, ominous clouds gathering overhead.

  "An Evil Cultivator in Watchers' territory... Was this your true aim all along?"

  Rui Guo stomped hard. Scattered rubble obeyed her call, gathering and stacking into a crude stone bridge.

  Then blazing crimson spiritual energy burst from her body, flowing like molten metal to coat it—tempering the surface into solid steel.

  Yue Yang glimpsed Captain Guo vanishing into the thorny depths, her own heart in turmoil. With Fei so gravely wounded, her little brother was surely in mortal danger... She dared not linger on the thought.

  "Sister Yue! The poison on Fei's wound... it's gone! What treasure is this—it purified necrotic toxin?!" Wanwan's voice trembled with awe.

  Since interning under the mute medic Yue Yang, Wanwan had once resented it. Only now did she understand: the respect everyone showed Yue wasn't just for her lineage—it was for her true power to save lives.

  In moments, the darkness faded from Fei's eyes. Having brushed death, he opened them to Yue Yang's anxious face and managed a weak, grateful smile.

  But before words came, he inhaled Wanwan's soporific mist. Drowsiness overwhelmed him; his eyelids fell heavy, and he slipped into deep unconsciousness.

  Meanwhile, with every step into the Blackwood Forest, Captain Rui Guo felt the sinister aura thicken.

  She knew the Watchers' duty wasn't just guarding spirit beast herds and underground veins—but preventing what lurked in the Cursed Forest from escaping.

  Without her bond to the land, she'd never dare enter alone.

  She had to hurry. Any delay, and Timo's hope would vanish.

  With that, Rui Guo's aura erupted—majestic hues of azure, crimson, and umber intertwining. Each step sent powerful ripples through the earth.

  Cursed beasts stirring in shadows sensed her might and retreated deeper into dens.

  "Exquisite... a truly perfect vessel..."

  Back at the crypt altar, a violent gravewind gust yanked Timo's wandering spirit back into his body.

  His eyes snapped open, plunged into bone-deep chill and despair.

  Before him, the crone's withered claws caressed his young, smooth, vitality-filled face with disgusting greed.

  Her desiccated mouth stretched ear to ear, revealing rows of blackened, yellowed fangs as she sighed in shuddering admiration.

  As Timo Yang surrendered to the breath of the wind, his consciousness detached from his body, perceiving the world outside along the breeze.

  The black-robed crone, sensing Timo’s spirit in this ethereal state, grew even more convinced: this boy was a surviving descendant of the Windrider Clan—the ones who had fled in terror all those years ago.

  “How exquisite…”

  She savored the necrotic energy around her, dark vapors continually passing through her hunched form.

  “The Windriders perceive death itself. They should have lived in seclusion, free from strife… yet they were corrupted by power and exterminated! To think a descendant still lingers after all this time. The heavens truly favor me!”

  The crone extended a hand. A cup of dark liquid from a nearby experiment table flew instantly into her grasp.

  Her bulging eyes fixed unblinkingly on Timo Yang.

  The longer he stared, the deeper the dread sank in. He couldn’t hold back: “You old hag—let me go!”

  The words burst out before he realized—his sealed mouth had somehow opened.

  “A foul temper can be tempered in time… Now drink, and be good.”

  The dark liquid was brought to his lips. Timo gagged at the sight.

  The ink-black potion looked like thick torch oil.

  Its stench, however, was the reek of long-rotted corpses.

  Seeing his clamped mouth, the crone merely twitched a finger.

  Timo’s jaw dropped wide, unable to close.

  Without pause, she poured the entire cup down his throat.

  To his shock, it tasted… somewhat sweet.

  “Blood is life. From this day forward, you and I shall become one. Trust me, and together we shall rule this world!”

  As the crone spoke, her body suddenly split open.

  Like a snake shedding its skin, a dark, formless spirit slowly emerged from her withered husk.

  Facing this black entity, Timo felt cold, despair—death itself.

  Yet he couldn’t move, pinned to the altar by invisible force, mouth still forced agape.

  The dark spirit extended a tendril and—without waiting—plunged straight into Timo’s mouth.

  Timo felt a foreign power invading his body, his consciousness growing hazy.

  His subconscious screamed: Don’t give up—resist!

  Inside, he repeated desperately: *The wind carries the scent of flowers… my sister… Mother’s laughter…*

  The stronger his sense of self grew, the clearer memories of his parents became.

  “Mom and Dad are back!”

  In the memory, his sister Yue Yang pulled little Timo toward their returning parents. Amid joyous laughter, he sank deeper into the recollection.

  He watched as if from outside: a toddler stumbling after his sister.

  His father and mother, still in battle armor, had just come home.

  This was the happiest moment buried in Timo Yang’s heart—the last time he felt the warmth of a complete family.

  “The fleeting emotions of humans are like passing wind—all lies. Only power and strength are eternal. Stand with me at the pinnacle, and all these people will bow before you!”

  Just as Timo immersed in the joyful scene, dark energy enveloped him.

  The memory world shattered into chaos…

  He saw visions not his own: battlefield massacres, strangers severing a monarch’s head.

  Countless faces—betrayal, slaughter, deception—a dark shadow possessing one host after another.

  Boom! Crash!

  As tremors grew louder, Timo’s inner world rippled violently.

  The dark spirit, mid-consumption, suddenly felt the earth quake around it.

  In reality…

  Rui Guo had arrived. Seismic pulses guided her to the underground space.

  Anguished cries echoed from within—no time for hesitation.

  Barefoot, she sprinted faster, following the vibrations to a barren patch of ground.

  “Ancient structures in the Blackwood Forest… the stench of death. Found it!”

  Hearing the wails, Rui Guo knew Timo was in peril. She leaped onto a raised earthen platform and vaulted atop the ruins.

  Standing amid vines, she channeled spiritual energy and slammed it against the ceiling.

  The Ice-Evil Cultivator sensed danger and appeared beside her master.

  Though blind to the dark spirit, she knew: if her lord didn’t awaken now, everything was lost.

  “Spirit Lord! Intruder!”

  The interrupted ritual enraged the crone. She lifted a hand, hoisting the cultivator into the air.

  The cultivator hung helplessly, offering no resistance. Only when the Spirit-Driving Evil Cultivator calmed was she released.

  By then, the crypt ceiling cracked fully—rubble raining down.

  The crone waved casually; falling stones turned to dust.

  “Tri-Element Peak… it’s her…”

  Before she finished, the ground heaved again. The structure above tore open, rubble coalescing into a massive boulder.

  “How dare you disturb my domain? You’ve dug your own grave!”

  With Rui Guo’s furious roar, the colossal rock plummeted.

  The Ice-Evil Cultivator reacted instantly, freezing the earth to slow its descent.

  Seeing this, Captain Guo atop the boulder grew gigantic. She leaped onto it, suppressing the ice, accelerating the fall.

  Known as Mother Earth, at Tri-Element Peak mastering earth and fire, no one challenged her on this land.

  Meanwhile, Lulu—her initiation half-complete—felt the tremors and knew: Captain Guo had arrived.

  She’d heard how fiercely loyal Guo was to the former leader, watching over his two children like her own.

  As expected, Guo would never let harm come to the wind-boy, Timo Yang.

  Lulu touched the half-drawn evil sigil on her forehead, wiped it away decisively, donned a black robe, and melted into shadows.

  Emerging, she saw the cultivator’s power suppressed. The ceiling destroyed, the gigantic stone hurtling toward the crone.

  “Shadow! Why stand idle? Prove your worth!”

  The struggling cultivator glared into the darkness where Lulu hid.

  Shadow—her new name from the ice evil cultivator.

  Lulu knew one wrong move meant instant death.

  She resumed her pious act swiftly.

  “At your command, Master!”

  Blade drawn, Lulu vaulted onto the falling boulder via broken steps, swift as lightning.

  She wasn’t foolish—she knew Guo’s strength.

  She’d already planned her escape: clear the crypt opening, and no one would find her.

  Nearing Rui Guo, the captain recognized her aura.

  “You reckless child—up to trouble again!”

  Guo sighed inwardly, no time to scold. She conjured stone manacles, pinning Lulu immobile against a wall.

  Standing firm on the boulder, timing perfect, Guo extended five fingers. Two iron cages erupted from the ground, trapping the black-robed figures below.

  Halfway down, all sharp suspended stones suddenly froze mid-air.

  Only then did Rui Guo see clearly: twenty children lay on experiment platforms, spirit-root orbs continuously extracted from their small bodies.

  Timo Yang trapped at the array’s center.

  “Monsters!”

  Blind rage surged through Rui Guo. Tri-colored spiritual energy swirled. The massive boulder and floating stones merged into a colossal stone spike, aimed straight at the black-robed crone below.

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