Wind That Devoured a God
The sect had not yet recovered from the chaos of the Evil God's descent.
The air still carried the scent of scorched earth and shattered qi. Disciples moved quietly, as though loud sounds alone might summon another catastrophe. Saints sat in strained silence, their auras unstable despite Xiao Yan's healing.
And yet, calamity was not finished.
The Night of Unease
Mi-An could not sleep.
Her mind replayed the image of Xiao Yan falling—again and again—standing up each time, refusing to yield even to gods. She rose from her bed, chest tight, when a faint disturbance brushed against her senses.
Someone was there.
Before she could react, the curtains shifted.
Nem.
He moved with casual confidence, eyes glinting with something playful—and something unsettling. He stepped closer, leaned down, his hand brushing the edge of her pillow.
As his face neared hers, Mi-An's eyes snapped open.
She kicked him hard in the chest.
Nem flew backward, crashing through the doorway. Mi-An leapt after him, fury blazing in her eyes.
"What do you think you're doing?!" she shouted.
Nem steadied himself, laughter low. "Relax. It was only a joke."
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed.
Xiao Yan and Saint Lu Qi emerged from the inner hall, mid-discussion. The other Saints had returned after the trials, drawn by the birth of a new god.
Nem straightened instantly.
"Hundreds of demons are here," he said. "They demand to see Xiao Yan."
Demons Who Begged
Xiao Yan followed Nem outside.
What he saw stunned everyone.
Demons—hundreds of them—knelt in submission, their bodies trembling, their inner cores visibly cracking.
"Please save us," they cried. "Our lord is draining us. Our cores are collapsing."
Xiao Yan stepped forward and examined them.
They spoke the truth.
Without hesitation, he extended his hand. Divine energy flowed outward, stabilizing their cores, mending fractures that should not have been repairable.
Gasps echoed among the disciples.
Then Xiao Yan spoke calmly: "Find them shelter."
Nem nodded.
That was when Mi-An arrived.
Her gaze locked onto Nem—standing among demons.
Something inside her snapped.
"You knave!" she screamed, shoving him violently.
"Mi-An!" Xiao Yan called. "Stay back!"
But she didn't hear him.
Her pupils darkened. A crimson glow bled into her eyes. Her aura surged uncontrollably as she rose into the air, suspended by pure force.
She lifted her hands.
A devastating wave of power gathered—aimed directly at Nem.
Xiao Yan reacted instantly.
He jumped between them.
The attack struck him instead.
The impact shattered the ground.
Xiao Yan crashed down, blood pouring from his mouth.
The force dissipated.
Mi-An screamed and rushed to him, dropping to her knees.
"Xiao Yan! Why? Why would you do that?!"
He smiled weakly.
"Mi-An… don't cry," he whispered. "Looks like… I'm turning into wind. The prophecy… was real after all."
"No… no, don't say that," she begged, clutching him. "Please don't leave me."
"Let me… go now…"
His body dissolved.
Not into ash.
Not into light.
Into wind.
It scattered silently into the air.
"XIAO YAN!!!"
The scream tore through the sect.
Saint Lu Qi stood frozen. "Mi-An… why did you do it?"
She collapsed, shaking. "I'm sorry… it's my fault. I mistook him for someone else…"
Her gaze drifted to Nem.
He turned away, eyes wet, and left without a word. Di'or followed him silently. Saint Lu Qi departed soon after, unable to face the devastation.