Reality shattered.

  The air around Lin Feng fractured like breaking glass, cracks spreading outward to encompass the entire canyon. Through these fissures poured not light but attention—a vast, immeasurable awareness that pressed down upon the battlefield with the weight of countless gazes.

  The sky above split open, revealing not emptiness but an infinite expanse of watching eyes. Not malevolent, not benevolent—simply observing with implacable, merciless clarity. Each eye was different—some blazing deep sapphire blue like Lin Feng's, others deep as wells, others sharp as blades—yet all focused downward with the same unwavering scrutiny.

  The demon's roar transformed into a shriek of terror as those countless eyes turned upon it. Its grip on Lin Feng faltered as its form began to unravel at the edges, dissolving like smoke in strong wind where the gazes touched it.

  "What is seen cannot remain hidden," Lin Feng intoned, his voice no longer his own but a chorus of countless watchers speaking through him. "What is judged cannot escape erasure."

  Lin Feng floated upward, suspended in midair by currents of golden qi that pulsed with each beat of his heart. His body, moments ago being crushed by demonic strength, now radiated power that made the very air shimmer around him.

  The demon thrashed desperately, trying to retreat back through the portal. But the eyes had seen it, judged it, and found it wanting. Lin Feng raised his hand toward the creature, and with each inch his palm ascended, another layer of the demon's form disintegrated—not destroyed but erased, as if it had never existed in the first place.

  "Impossible!" the lead Templar screamed, breaking away from his combat with Mei Xue to stare upward in horror. "The summoning was perfect! The control array was—"

  He never finished his sentence. As the judging gazes shifted to him and his followers, the lead Templar raised his hands to form a defensive seal. The moment he channeled his divine power, his arms simply... vanished. No blood, no violence—they were simply gone, as if they had never existed.

  For one heartbeat, nothing happened. The Templar stared at the empty space where his limbs had been, uncomprehending.

  Then the blood came.

  Twin geysers erupted from his shoulders, spraying crimson across the stone. His scream echoed off the canyon walls, primal and agonized. Around him, his followers suffered the same fate—divine techniques half-formed on their lips when their arms disappeared, followed by the delayed rush of blood and pain.

  Throughout the canyon, reality continued to fracture and reform, the physical world struggling to accommodate the manifestation of Lin Feng's inner domain. Rocks floated upward, water flowed in impossible directions, and the air itself seemed to thicken into visible currents of energy that swirled around the suspended figure at the center of it all.

  "Observer's Void," Lin Feng commanded, his eyes now completely overtaken by swirling blue light that illuminated the dark void spreading behind the countless watching eyes.

  The demon gave one final, keening wail as the last of its substance unraveled. The portal through which it had partially emerged collapsed, sealing itself with a thunderous implosion that shook the entire mountain range.

  Mei Xue seized the opportunity, darting forward with her Phantom Step technique. In three fluid motions, she bound the lead Templar with spirit-sealing chains, then moved to the others who were writhing on the ground in agony. Jun Wei joined her, using emergency medical techniques to staunch the worst of the bleeding.

  "Their arms..." Jun Wei whispered, his face pale with shock. "I've never seen anything like this."

  "Focus on keeping them alive," Mei Xue ordered sharply. "We need answers."

  Above them, Lin Feng's domain began to recede. The countless eyes withdrew, reality knitted itself back together, and Lin Feng—his power exhausted—plummeted toward the ground.

  Mei Xue moved instantly, abandoning her prisoner to catch Lin Feng before he struck the unforgiving stone. His body was unnaturally light in her arms, as if something essential had been drained from him along with his spiritual energy.

  "Lin Feng!" she called, feeling for his pulse. It was there, but weak and erratic. "Jun Wei! He needs medical attention immediately!"

  Jun Wei hurried over, his face grim with focus as he worked to stabilize both Lin Feng and their prisoners. "What... what was that technique?"

  "His inner world," Mei Xue replied, carefully laying Lin Feng on the ground to begin emergency spiritual transfer. "Manifested into physical reality."

  Jun Wei's eyes widened. "But that's—"

  "Impossible for someone his age?" Mei Xue finished, her hands moving in precise patterns as she channeled healing qi into Lin Feng's depleted meridians. "Apparently the Lin Clan has more secrets than anyone suspected."

  As she worked to stabilize Lin Feng's collapsing spiritual pathways, Jun Wei moved to check on Liu Chang. His expression when he returned told her everything she needed to know.

  "He's gone," Jun Wei confirmed quietly. "The corruption reached his Dantian before he hit the ground."

  Mei Xue closed her eyes briefly in acknowledgment of their loss. Then, with the disciplined focus that had made her Elder Mei's star pupil, she returned her attention to keeping Lin Feng alive.

  The lead Templar, despite his grievous injuries, had managed to prop himself against a boulder. Blood still seeped through Jun Wei's hastily applied bandages, but his eyes burned with hatred as he watched Mei Xue tend to Lin Feng.

  "You think... this is over?" he rasped, each word clearly costing him tremendous effort. "The Lin Clan... has already been marke-" He coughed violently, blood spattering his lips. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped further against the rock.

  Jun Wei moved to the Templar's side, checking his pulse. "He's fading fast. We need to get him stabilized if we want more information."

  Mei Xue's mind raced. "The Lin Clan has been marked? By whom?" She pressed her fingers against the Templar's throat. "Stay with us. What about the Lin Clan?"

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  But the Templar had lost consciousness, his breathing shallow and irregular.

  "Keep him alive," Mei Xue ordered Jun Wei. "Whatever he knows could be critical."

  With practiced efficiency, they prepared to transport their wounded and prisoners back to the Eastern Shore outpost. As Jun Wei fashioned stretchers from their cloaks and spare formation materials, Mei Xue approached the unconscious Templar leader once more.

  A glint of jade caught her attention—the stolen Lin Clan talisman still clutched in the Templar's bloody stump where his hand had been. She carefully extracted it, along with several other artifacts she recognized from descriptions of items stolen from various sects.

  "We have what we came for," she told Jun Wei, pocketing the retrieved items. "And a warning we must deliver to the Lin Clan immediately."

  The flickering torches cast long shadows across the ancient stone walls of the underground chamber. Carved runes pulsed with faint energy along the ceiling, suppressing any spiritual sense that might penetrate from outside. Perfect for clandestine meetings that needed to remain hidden from even the most powerful cultivators.

  A hooded figure knelt in the center of the chamber, head bowed so low it nearly touched the cold stone floor. Blood dripped from beneath the figure's robes, forming a small puddle that reflected the torchlight in crimson ripples.

  Across from the supplicant stood another figure—tall and imposing in elaborate robes that seemed to absorb rather than reflect the light around them. A lacquered mask covered the upper half of their face, revealing only a stern mouth set in disapproval.

  "The Eastern Shore operation has failed completely," the masked figure stated, voice calm yet frigid. "Explain."

  The hooded figure trembled visibly. "Great Apostle, forgive me. We weren't expecting Supreme Peak and Master Realm cultivators to respond so quickly. Our intelligence suggested the border was lightly defended—"

  "Your intelligence was flawed," the Apostle interrupted, pacing slowly around the kneeling figure. "As was your execution. The sacrifice required precise timing. The Guardian entity is now lost to us."

  "We can attempt another summoning—"

  "With what resources?" The Apostle's voice remained level, which somehow made it all the more terrifying. "The artifacts we recovered from the Venerated Night Temple took decades to locate. And now the cultivation sects are alert to our methods."

  The hooded figure pressed their forehead to the stone. "I accept full responsibility, Great Apostle. I await your judgment."

  The Apostle stopped pacing. "Tell me about the ones who disrupted the ritual. Every detail."

  "They wore black stealth robes with the Lin Clan insignia," the hooded figure reported, voice steadying somewhat. "Four of them—all Supreme Peak Realm at minimum. Their leader... his techniques were unlike anything I've witnessed. When cornered, he manifested some kind of judgment domain that erased our practitioners' arms and dismantled the Guardian entity itself."

  "The Lin Clan," the Apostle said, a note of respect mingling with the frustration in their voice. "Always lurking in the shadows, never seeking fame, but always... there."

  "You know of them, Great Apostle?"

  "A clan that has never sought prominence, yet has survived longer than many of the so-called 'major sects,'" the Apostle said thoughtfully. "They don't flaunt their techniques or boast of their accomplishments. They simply... act."

  The Apostle moved to a small altar at the far end of the room. "Their tracking abilities are unmatched. Even the Celestial Dragon Sect's best hunters cannot compare. And their ability to mobilize at a moment's notice... concerning."

  The Apostle picked up a small jade tablet from the altar, turning it over thoughtfully. "It's not their techniques that make them dangerous—it's what they're hiding. What weapons they've been developing in secret."

  The hooded figure shifted uncomfortably. "Surely they're still just a minor clan—"

  "Minor?" The Apostle let out a short, humorless laugh. "The cultivation world's obsession with hierarchy blinds them. The Lin Clan has never cared about rankings or prestige. That's what makes them so dangerous."

  The Apostle activated the jade tablet with a pulse of energy. A detailed map of the Lin Clan compound shimmered into existence, floating in the air between them.

  "Their compound isn't impressive, their numbers aren't vast, but their Patriarch..." The Apostle's voice trailed off, a rare note of concern evident. "He sees too much. With minimal information, he anticipates moves that should be unforeseeable. He is the greatest threat we face."

  The hooded figure looked up cautiously. "Should we strike at their compound directly?"

  The Apostle was silent for a long moment, then shook their head. "No. That would be... problematic for us now. The cultivation world is on high alert. We must be more subtle."

  The Apostle deactivated the map with a flick of their wrist. "We will pull back. Regroup. The fundamental flaw of all cultivators works in our favor."

  "Great Apostle?"

  "They can never truly unite," the Apostle explained, a hint of satisfaction creeping into their voice. "Their very path requires them to be alone at its core. They form families, create sects, build alliances—but even within these structures, there is constant competition, jealousy, rivalry. It is the nature of cultivation itself."

  The Apostle returned to the altar, passing a hand over a crystalline vessel filled with swirling purple essence. The demonic energy within responded to the proximity, coiling like a living thing.

  "We will work from the shadows. Find ways to manipulate the sects against each other. Let them weaken themselves while we gather strength."

  Relief visibly washed over the hooded figure. "Then I am to be spared?"

  "Spared?" The Apostle turned, genuine amusement in their voice. "No. But your suffering will serve a greater purpose."

  Before the hooded figure could react, the Apostle made a swift gesture. The crystalline vessel shattered, and the purple essence within surged forward like a living thing, enveloping the kneeling cultivator.

  Screams echoed through the chamber as the hooded figure convulsed, skin blistering and darkening where the essence touched. The transformation was horrific but swift—limbs elongating unnaturally, spine cracking as it reformed, face contorting as bones shifted beneath the skin.

  When it was done, the creature that had once been human knelt in the same position, breathing heavily. Its eyes, when it raised its head, glowed with an unnatural purple light.

  "Rise," the Apostle commanded. "You are reborn in service to our Lord. Your failure is cleansed, your purpose renewed."

  The creature stood, movements jerky but growing smoother with each passing moment as it adjusted to its new form. "What would you have me do, Great Apostle?"

  "The Lin Clan is dangerous precisely because they operate from the shadows," the Apostle said, walking around the transformed figure appraisingly. "But now you can move in those same shadows. Watch them. Learn their secrets. Discover what weapons they're hiding."

  The creature bowed deeply. "It shall be done, Great Apostle."

  "Do not engage directly," the Apostle warned. "The Patriarch would sense your presence. Observe only. Report back what you find."

  "I understand."

  "Fail again," the Apostle concluded, turning away, "and the next transformation will be far less... comfortable."

  As the creature departed to begin its mission, the Apostle returned to the shattered remains of the crystal vessel. With delicate movements, they collected the fragments, each piece still humming with residual power.

  "The Lin Clan thinks they've won a battle," the Apostle murmured to the empty chamber. "Let them enjoy this small victory while it lasts."