The Prismatic River Sea, nestled within the Thousand Shattered Islands, was famed both as a prime hunting ground and a place of breathtaking natural beauty. The ocean here was unlike any other—split into thousands of vividly colored streams, each flowing in its own path. Bold yellows, regal purples, vivid greens, striking reds, and countless other hues intertwined like silk ribbons scattered across the water's surface. These streams wound through, across, and around one another, creating a mesmerizing lattice of color.
Some of the streams were no wider than a finger, while others rivaled full rivers in size. They twisted deep into the sea or arced high into the sky, forming suspended waterfalls that shimmered in midair. The brilliance of the colors, the ever-present rainbows, and the surreal beauty of the landscape made the Prismatic River Sea one of the most coveted destinations in the Thousand Shattered Islands.
But it wasn't just beauty that drew visitors.
Cultivators came for another reason entirely: the region teemed with demonic beasts. From rank two to rank four, and occasionally even the fearsome rank five, spirit beasts roamed the waters and skies. Hundreds of thousands of Foundation Establishment cultivators flocked to the area, eager to hunt for spirit beast cores and rare materials—whether for personal cultivation or profit on the open market.
Tonight, Mo Jian and Bai Ning had come with a clear purpose. With Bai Ning freshly advanced to the Foundation Establishment realm, it was time for her to gain real combat experience—and to learn how to wield her newfound power with precision. The demonic cores they harvested could be refined into potent pills or traded for rare materials, useful in crafting magic tools and treasures. After all, Bai Ning now needed equipment befitting her new cultivation stage.
That was Mo Jian’s reasoning, and he had taken the time to explain it thoroughly as they flew over from their secluded cave residence. Yet, for all that effort, Bai Ning’s first reaction upon seeing the Prismatic River Sea was to gasp in delight, then immediately reach out to touch one of the streams that flowed upward into the sky like a reverse waterfall. The stream shimmered a soft, golden yellow, and tiny, luminous fish darted through its liquid arc.
Without hesitation, she ran her fingers through the water once, then twice—before promptly sticking her entire head into the stream.
Mo Jian had to drag her away, exasperated, just as laughter rang out from a distance.
A group of Foundation Establishment cultivators drifted nearby on a sleek spirit boat shaded by a parasol. Four men and one woman lounged aboard, exchanging cups of spirit wine and enjoying the scenery. Judging by their robes, demeanor, and lack of urgency, Mo Jian guessed they were young masters and mistresses from powerful sects—likely the favored children of sect elders, here for leisure rather than battle.
Still dripping, Bai Ning waved at them cheerfully, her hair plastered flat against her head. The woman at the center of the group, who had been the first to laugh, returned the wave with a bright smile—clearly amused rather than mocking.
Mo Jian wondered if she would be that cheerful if she knew that one of the people she’d just waved at was a Core Formation elder. But that was an uncharitable thought. He had concealed his own cultivation for a reason, and Bai Ning’s antics, however exasperating, weren’t reason enough to break that veil now.
He waited until their flying boat had put some distance between them and the other group before turning to Bai Ning with a look of disapproval. She met it with perfect unconcern, wringing out her soaked hair with slow, exaggerated motions instead of using a simple drying spell—clearly milking the moment for all it was worth.
Mo Jian rolled his eyes and made a casual gesture. The water clinging to her was pulled away in elegant coils, weaving through the air like silk ribbons before splashing harmlessly off the side of the boat.
"Now that you've had your fun, dear disciple," he said dryly, "would you care to remind your master what the purpose of today’s excursion is?"
Bai Ning pouted at the abrupt end to her amusement, but she sobered quickly. For all her free-spirited ways, this was something she’d been looking forward to. Practically vibrating with eagerness, she straightened up and declared in a loud, clear voice: “To hunt demonic beasts, Master! If we gather enough cores to sell, then I can finally buy that sword in Azure Wall City.”
She finished with a familiar, pleading look—the same one she had started to use ever since she saw that that damned sword in the market. Mo Jian, well-practiced by now, ignored it with effortless grace.
There was no chance he was going to indulge her in that ridiculous idea. The weapon in question was oversized, impractical, and utterly unsuited to her build or fighting style. He still held out hope that she’d grow out of her current obsession with the sword path—eventually.
“If we gather enough cores,” he said with deliberate emphasis, “we’ll sell them for spiritual materials. There’s no sense wasting money on tools when you’re better off learning to craft them yourself.”
He gave her a firm look. “As for the sword, I’ve said it before: it’s a waste of qi and spirit stones. Even your current Golden Silk Dragon Banner is better than that oversized lump of metal.”
Bai Ning did not look convinced.
“You just don’t understand the coolness factor a sword has, Master,” she muttered stubbornly.
Mo Jian sighed—a long-suffering, time-worn sigh born from years of putting up with the whims of a headstrong disciple.
“Coolness,” he repeated, tasting the word like it offended him personally. “Do you think ‘coolness’ will help you when a Rank Four Bloodscale Serpent is trying to coil around your ribs like a warm blanket?”
“It might,” Bai Ning said with a shrug. “If the serpent is really impressed with my swordsmanship, maybe it’ll let me go.”
Mo Jian closed his eyes for a moment. “The only thing that sword will impress is the local scrap merchant.”
Bai Ning smirked. “I’ll make sure to look for one after I defeat the Bloodscale Serpent.”
Mo Jian didn’t answer. Sometimes, silence was the only defense left to a master.
The flying boat cruised over the winding rainbow of water-streams, qi humming through it quietly. Below, the tangled colors of the Prismatic River Sea glimmered in shifting layers. Occasionally, distant plumes of water would shoot skyward—whether geysers or beast activity was unclear. The entire region was alive with movement, saturated with spiritual energy and danger both.
Mo Jian’s expression shifted as his senses caught something ahead. He raised a hand, and the flying boat slowed in response.
“There we go. Your first target,” he said quietly.
Bai Ning’s smile faded instantly. She straightened, every hint of levity gone from her posture.
“Spiritual beast or demonic?”
The distinction was largely academic. Any beast capable of cultivating was considered a spiritual beast. Among those, the ones that displayed aggression toward humans—or preyed on them—were commonly referred to as demonic beasts. But there was no clear dividing line between the two. Classification could shift depending on the region, the strength of local cultivators, the ambient qi, and countless other variables.
Take the Poison Flame Toad, for example. In most regions, it was a placid, reclusive creature that avoided human contact. But it was also drawn to toxic environments, where it became violently territorial. In the Mere Swamps, it was feared and labeled a demonic beast. In the Ring of Fire, it was ignored entirely, considered just another spiritual creature minding its own business.
So when Bai Ning asked that question, what she really meant was: Is this something dangerous?
For Mo Jian, the answer didn’t matter. There was nothing here that could pose a threat to him. But that wasn’t the point. He was here to watch—and let her learn.
“A spiritual beast,” he told her. “Rank three. About as strong as a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. No intelligence, though, so this should be a straightforward fight.”
Then, with a glance her way, he added, “Impress me enough, and we can revisit the matter of that sword.”
Her eyes lit up instantly. “Really?”
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He gave her a dry look. “Focus. It would be embarrassing if I had to fish you out of the sea because you were too busy daydreaming.”
“That’s very inspirational, Master.”
Chuckling softly, she jumped from the boat, pulling the Golden Silk Dragon Banner from her storage pouch. Mo Jian descended after her at a safe distance, keeping the boat steady as he watched. She touched down lightly on her flying tool—the handkerchief gifted to her by her parents two years ago—and unfurled the banner in preparation.
The source of the spiritual pressure revealed itself a moment later. A massive, six-legged beast crouched at the edge of a jade-green stream, casually walking on water. It had the sleek body of a panther, but its fur shimmered like polished bronze. Translucent fins extended from its spine like jagged, decorative wings. When it turned to face Bai Ning, its eyes burned with golden, predatory light.
“A Bronze-Finned Duskcat,” Mo Jian murmured from above. “Fast and stealthy. Tail strike’s venomous. Let’s see how you handle it, Bai Ning.”
She didn’t hesitate. The banner flared to life, the golden dragon embroidered across its surface rearing up with a shimmer of qi. With a flick of her wrist, it surged forward—rushing the Duskcat in a coil of radiant power. The beast snarled and leapt to meet it, a blur of bronze muscle and gleaming fangs.
………………………….
Bai Ning was still recovering her qi from the morning’s battles when Azure Wall City came into view. Perched on the rugged coast of Azure Wall Island, the city took its name from the radiant blue stone that formed the island’s cliffs and reefs—a stone that shimmered with a soft, inner light. Even from afar, the ethereal glow cloaking the city cast it in a dreamlike brilliance, gleaming like a beacon against the darkening sky.
Immense walls, carved from that same luminous rock, encircled the city like natural cliffs. Four grand gates stood open at the cardinal points, welcoming travelers by land, sea, or sky. The city itself rose in tiers, each level narrower than the one below, forming a grand, ascending spiral—like a heavenly pagoda fused with a mountain. Palaces, cultivation halls, sacred gardens, and bustling market districts filled each ring. Incense smoke curled from rooftop altars, talismans fluttered in the sea wind, and golden bells chimed in the distance.
Above and between the tiers, vast arched bridges spanned the skies—closed constructs of jade, gold, and glowing stone, bearing caravans of flying beasts and spiritual relics. Towering spires floated among the clouds, tethered by chains of radiant formation energy. Overhead, entire estates drifted serenely on clouds—mansions of mist and starlight, home to only the most ancient sects and powerful clans.
The city breathed qi. Every stone structure thrummed with spiritual energy. Cultivators soared through the air on flying swords, cloud beasts, or silver-flame cranes. Formation arrays glimmered across rooftops, and protective wards shimmered like veils of glass.
Bai Ning had seen it all before. The wonder had dulled with time, worn thin by familiarity—but still, Master Mo Jian guided their flying boat in a wide, elegant spiral as they descended, offering a panoramic view of the city's splendor.
It also gave Bai Ning time to smooth her robes. Though mostly clean, they bore the signs of a long morning spent battling demonic beasts. Her hair had come loose in places, and a streak of dried blood—thankfully not her own—stained one sleeve. Even so, she allowed herself a flicker of pride. They’d collected nearly a dozen beast cores, most from rank two and three creatures. Her real triumph, though, had been the Sword-Nose Fish—a rank four beast that had turned what should have been a routine fight into a brutal, drawn-out battle before finally falling to her banner. The battle had left her qi nearly drained, and Master Mo Jian had declared the hunt concluded afterwards.
Now they approached Azure Wall City—one of his favored destinations for trading, intelligence gathering, and buying cultivation resources. Bai Ning had been here before, though always in the role of an observer. She had walked the winding paths through the merchant tier, smelled the sharp scent of spirit herbs in the alchemists’ quarter, and observed the ever-present tension between rival sects. But in truth, none of that mattered much to her.
As the lone disciple of a Core Formation cultivator, she stood above most of the city’s endless maneuverings. Azure Wall might be a major hub in the Thousand Shattered Islands, but its two Island Masters were Core Formation cultivators themselves—which made Master Mo Jian, and by extension her, an honored guest. They rarely made a show of it, as Master Mo Jian preferred to keep a low profile, but should they wish, they could stay in the finest palaces, demand the rarest goods, and the city would oblige—without them having to take a single step outside.
They hopped off the flying boat near one of the piers, where two massive Undersea Ships loomed, docked side by side. These colossal vessels, carved from qi-conductive wood, were rare creations—built not to sail the surface but to dive deep beneath the ocean in search of sunken treasures or to hunt formidable demonic beasts of the deep.
Bai Ning had once heard that a true master of such a vessel could control it like a magic tool, commanding every inch of the ship through sheer will and cultivation—turning hull, keel, and mast into extensions of their own body. Unlike flying ships, which dotted the skies in abundance, these leviathans were few and far between. She couldn’t help but give them a long, admiring glance.
Mo Jian was already striding ahead, robes fluttering, and she hurried to fall in beside him as the bustle of the docks surrounded them.
Cultivators moved in busy streams, some dumping spirit fish from glowing gourds and qi-woven nets into storage pouches, while others—sea-worn and sun-darkened—haggled with sharp-eyed merchants over crates of spirit coral, pearl-bellied eels, or barnacle-encrusted relics hauled from the seafloor. Tattered awnings flapped above makeshift stalls, shading everything from beast cores and talismans to bundles of rare herbs sealed in jade. Spirit nets crackled faintly with residual energy, hanging from hooks like trophies.
Overhead, gulls with crystal-tipped beaks wheeled and screeched, diving to snatch scraps from careless vendors.
Bai Ning passed a stall where a burly, bearded cultivator in a sleeveless robe was auctioning off a live demonic eel. It twisted inside a glass tank, its scales pulsing with arcs of lightning. A cluster of mortal children stared, wide-eyed, until the eel suddenly slammed against the glass with a crackle—sending them squealing and scattering in all directions.
Further along, a group of sea cultivators had skipped the piers entirely and stood barefoot atop the water, using it as a stable platform. They spread out polished spirit shells inscribed with formation runes. One of them, noticing Bai Ning’s glance, raised a barnacled hand and called out with a grin, “Genuine Tide-Summoning Shells, Fairy! Good for one call—guaranteed!”
The crowd was as eclectic as the wares: wandering sword cultivators with long, wind-tangled hair, merchant sect disciples tallying trades on jade slips, and silent rogue cultivators in dark cloaks weighed down with hidden blades. All moved through the market in overlapping currents, brushing past one another like schools of fish in the reef.
Bai Ning adjusted her robes and kept close to Mo Jian as they navigated the shifting crowd. Though she had seen it before, the dockside always struck her as more raw, more alive than the manicured upper tiers of the city. Here, cultivation was grit and blood and barter—less about enlightenment, more about survival and profit. They passed under a driftwood arch wrapped in fluttering seaweed ribbons and stepped into a shaded section of the market, where alchemists sold briny concoctions from cauldrons that steamed with qi-rich mist. Mo Jian paused briefly at a stall displaying a set of pill bottles, but after a moment’s inspection, he moved on without a word.
“Are we looking for something specific, Master?” Bai Ning asked, lowering her voice as they passed a knot of armored cultivators smelling strongly of blood and sea-rot.
“Someone who deals in mid-rank demonic beast cores,” he said. “We could take them to a proper emporium or pavilion and get a fair price—but that means missing the chance to walk away with much more. Down here, if you barter well, you can triple your value.”
“Or get robbed,” Bai Ning muttered.
Mo Jian flicked her an amused look.
She didn’t actually mind wandering the market, hunting for a deal. In fact, she liked it. But teasing her teacher was always fun—and more importantly, she had another reason to feel impatient.
She wanted to visit the Jaderock Pavilion. Last time, she’d seen a sword there—crafted from bin-steel and infused with glacial jade, balanced beautifully, with a blade that shimmered faintly when drawn. She’d wanted it immediately. And now, after her performance on the morning’s hunt, she was fairly sure she could badger Mo Jian into finally buying it. He was in a good mood. She had impressed him. The odds were in her favor.
Which, of course, meant the universe chose that exact moment to ruin everything.
A sudden burst of red light zipped through the crowd like a fireball, weaving expertly between startled cultivators before halting in front of Mo Jian. He caught it mid-air with a frown, his spiritual sense sweeping over it.
Bai Ning recognized it instantly: a voice transmission talisman. A magical message-carrier, used to send communications across great distances—provided the sender had attuned to the recipient’s qi and had at least a general idea of their location. Some could cross thousands of li in moments. High-grade ones like this were even shielded against interception or spiritual eavesdropping.
Around them, the market stilled slightly. A few cultivators turned to look. Sending such a flashy transmission in a public crowd was considered... impolite. But since they were the receivers, not the senders, they earned only a few disapproving glances before the crowd resumed its motion.
Bai Ning studied her master’s face. His expression was growing steadily more serious as the message played silently in his mind. She frowned. Hopefully it wasn’t Fan Mei. That smug woman had a talent for showing up right when Bai Ning was happiest, and Bai Ning had no desire to taint today’s victory by dealing with her.
She scuffed her boot against the wooden planks and crossed her arms, waiting as Mo Jian slowly lowered the now-dull talisman from his forehead. His brow was furrowed, his expression unreadable.
She waited a beat. Then poked him. “Well? Who was it? What did they say?”
Mo Jian blinked, as if remembering she was there. “The Island Masters,” he said finally. “They want to meet. We’ve been invited to dine with them at Azure Wall Palace—in an hour. They’re promising their... best hospitality.” He didn’t quite scoff, but it was close.
Bai Ning raised her brows. That was unexpected.
She might be young, but she wasn’t na?ve. Her parents were sect leaders, and she’d grown up watching them navigate the subtleties of politics from an early age. Mo Jian and she had been visiting Azure Wall City for years now—and the Island Masters had never once requested an audience.
Something had changed.
It couldn’t be as simple as greeting a peer. If Mo Jian had wanted to announce his status, he wouldn’t have been suppressing his cultivation since they arrived.
A thought flickered in her mind. Could it be... related to her advancement? She almost snorted. Ridiculous. No Core Formation cultivator cared about some girl stepping into Foundation Establishment.
Mo Jian had already turned away, walking deeper into the city, further from the curious gazes of those who had paused to watch them.
“Are we going?” she asked, catching up to him again.
He didn’t answer immediately. She could see the gears turning in his head.
Finally, he sighed. “Yes. Might as well see what they want. Be on your best behavior.”
“I am always on my best behavior,” she said, chin lifted defiantly.
He gave her a long-suffering look. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
