The light swallowed them whole.
For a heartbeat, there was no sound — no air, no ground, no thought. Only blinding, searing white.
Then came the fall.
Sand.
Hot, dry, endless.
Yu hit the ground first, the impact driving air from his lungs. Grit filled his mouth; his vision swam. Heat pressed down from all directions, and when he blinked, the valley's green mists were gone — replaced by a horizon of golden dunes stretching into infinity.
He groaned softly, pushing himself upright. "Lian?"
A few meters away, Lian was already on his feet, one hand shielding his eyes from the blinding sun, the other gripping his sword. The faint shimmer of thunder energy lingered around him, instinctive — protective.
"I'm here," he said. His voice was rough, low, as if dragged from deep sleep. "You all right?"
Yu spat sand and wiped his mouth. "Define 'all right'."
He glanced around — there was no shade, no wind, only a dry current that shimmered with mana so thin it almost burned to breathe. The air was heavy with illusion energy — faint, but constant.
"This isn't normal desert mana," Feng Lian murmured. "It's layered — residual from the plant's spatial pulse."
Yu approached him, scanning the sky. "So that flower didn't just attack our minds… it sent us somewhere else."
Lian nodded, squinting toward the horizon. "The next section of the secret realm."
Yu. exhaled. "Wonderful. A furnace."
---
By noon, they had walked for what felt like hours — their boots sinking into soft dunes that shifted under each step. The sun was merciless. Sweat clung to their skin; even their breaths grew ragged.
But Lian's eyes kept scanning the terrain — the way the sand rippled unnaturally, the faint mirage-like flickers hovering near the dunes. "This desert… it's alive," he said finally.
"Alive?" Yu asked, his tone cautious.
Lian nodded. "It's not just sand. There's spiritual energy mixed within — old, fragmented. It reacts to emotion."
As if to prove his words, the dunes behind them stirred faintly, rising like a pulse.
Yu tensed . "So we're walking through another illusion?"
"Not exactly." Lian crouched, brushing his fingers over the sand. "It's real — but the desert feeds on memory and fear, shaping what it touches."
He straightened, expression unreadable. "It's a mirror world."
---
They found shelter beneath a sun-baked ridge — little more than a cracked slab of stone that offered slanted shade.
Yu collapsed there, exhaustion visible in his slumped shoulders. He drew out a water gourd, took a small sip, then passed it to Lian.
"Drink carefully. My purification spell can only stretch so far," Yu murmured.
Lian drank, then handed it back silently. For a moment, only the sound of wind moved between them.
Then Lian spoke. "What did you see… in the illusion?"
Yu froze.
He didn't answer immediately — only stared at the sand, where light glinted like molten gold.
Finally, he said softly, "Do you remember when I asked you once — how I got these powers?"
"Yes"
"I told you that it's a very unnatural thing."His voice trembled faintly. "The truth is… I'm a soul from another world.I am not the same Liang Yu you bought .And in the illusion I saw...My world before this one. When it ended.The apocalypse."
Lian's gaze softened — no pity, just quiet understanding. "The apocalypse," he said, remembering the fragments Yu had shared once, half in jest, half in pain.
Yu gave a faint nod. "I watched everything burn. My parents… they died protecting me. I kept thinking I'd find a way to save them. But I was too weak."
Silence. The kind that weighed.
Lian shifted closer, the shadow of his hand brushing Yu's sleeve — a brief, wordless comfort.
"I saw my family too," Lian said finally, his tone low. "And the moment they were gone. I thought I'd buried it. But the illusion found it — and tore it open."
Yu turned his head slightly, meeting his gaze. Their eyes held for a long second — pain recognizing pain, loss mirroring loss.
"Maybe," Yu said quietly, "this realm doesn't just test strength. Maybe it wants to see what we fear most."
Lian's lips curved faintly. "Then it's already failing."
Yu raised a brow. "Oh?"
Lian's voice dropped, soft but edged. "Because my fear… isn't behind me anymore."
Their gazes locked — the air thickened, heat and silence tangling between them. For a moment, the world felt suspended, as if the desert itself paused to listen.
Then Yu broke the spell, standing abruptly. "We should move before it gets dark."
Lian chuckled under his breath, low and rough. "Running from the heat — or from me?"
Yu didn't answer.
---
As night fell, the desert changed.
The sun's fury bled away, replaced by an otherworldly glow. The dunes shimmered with silver light, as though dusted in starlit frost.
But the beauty was deceptive.
Yu felt it first — a subtle shift beneath the surface, the whisper of movement.
"Lian," he said quietly, eyes narrowing. "Something's coming."
The sand rippled — then erupted.
From beneath the dunes rose a colossal scorpion-like creature, its body crystalline, tail gleaming with liquid venom. Its eyes were twin orbs of green fire.
"Upper Mid-level spiritual beast," Yu muttered, stepping back. "But its venom density… that's higher than expected."
"Stay behind me," Lian ordered, already drawing his sword.
"Not a chance," Yu snapped, mana flaring around him.
The beast struck — its tail slicing through the air with a sound like thunder. Lian dodged, his blade flashing with lightning, severing part of the creature's claw. The explosion of venom hissed, burning through sand.
Yu's palms glowed, alchemy marks forming in midair. "Seal pattern—Condense!"
His mana pulsed, forming a transparent wall of condensed spiritual energy — it caught the next strike, dispersing the venom midair.
"Nice trick," Lian grunted, slashing the scorpion's tail. "Don't overextend!"
"Too late for that!"
Yu's mana flared brighter, forming a pulse that raced through the ground. The sand under the beast glowed cyan — then exploded upward, trapping the creature in a mana vortex.
Lian took the chance — leaping high, his sword a streak of lightning as he cleaved downward.
The beast screeched, body shattering into shards of glowing fragments.
Silence fell.
Only the wind whispered again.
---
They stood there, breathing hard.
Yu's mana flickered faintly, exhaustion catching up to him. Lian reached out, steadying him with one hand on his shoulder.
"You did good," he said quietly.
Yu smirked weakly. "So did you. Guess we're getting better at this whole… near-death thing."
Lian's gaze lingered on him a moment longer — too long. Then he stepped back, voice softer. "Get some rest. I'll keep watch."
Yu opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. "Fine , But quickly collected the spoils and store the poison in the jade gourd "
After saying that he sat down against a dune, head tilting back to watch the glowing stars overhead — strange, shifting constellations that moved like living things.
The desert hummed faintly beneath him, whispering illusions that never fully took shape.
Still, he felt strangely calm.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was Lian's presence, steady and warm nearby.
Or maybe — just maybe — the realm's cruelty had taught them something neither illusion nor beast could take away.
That survival wasn't strength.
It was connection.
---