The eastern relay station was little more than a crumbling stone tower surrounded by knee-high reeds and stagnant water. Dawn had barely broken when Lin Xuan stepped off the array platform. The spatial ripple faded behind him, leaving only the faint scent of ozone and the croak of distant marsh frogs.
He scanned the horizon with spiritual sense—nothing but wildlife and the low, constant hum of rank-one swamp gu drifting in the mist. No pursuit. Not yet.
The Whispering Marshes stretched ahead for hundreds of li: a vast, treacherous wetland where qi flowed sluggishly, breeding poison, illusion, and water-path gu in abundance. Few cultivators entered willingly; fewer returned unchanged.
Lin Xuan adjusted his gray robes and began walking.
He moved at a steady pace—not rushed, not leisurely. Every step was measured. Every breath circulated qi efficiently. The Thunderheart Gu on his shoulder sparked occasionally, absorbing ambient moisture and converting it into faint lightning essence that trickled into his aperture.
By midday he reached the first true landmark: a half-sunken stone stele half-covered in black moss. Ancient characters were barely legible:
**"Those who seek the Cicada's Shadow must first drown their past."**
Lin Xuan traced the words with a finger.
"A time-path venerable's warning," he murmured. "Or a trap meant to scare away the unworthy."
He pressed his palm to the stone.
No reaction.
He smiled thinly.
"Good. It means the real entrance is deeper."
He continued northeast, following the faint temporal distortions only his Golden Cicada could sense—like ripples in still water that no one else could see.
Three days passed in near-silence.
He avoided the main paths where wandering cultivators and beast packs roamed. When he encountered a rank-three Swamp Alligator Gu beast blocking a narrow ridge, he did not fight.
He simply activated Golden Cicada's Time Acceleration on a nearby cluster of rotting lotus pods.
The pods aged decades in seconds—exploding into clouds of toxic spores.
The alligator inhaled once.
It convulsed, scales cracking as its own body began to rot from within.
Lin Xuan walked past the dying beast without sparing it another glance.
"Waste not, want not," he said to the mist.
On the fourth day, he reached the heart of the marshes: a region locals called the Drowned Clock.
Here the water was unnaturally still. Floating on its surface were hundreds of broken hourglasses, sundials, water clocks—artifacts from a long-dead era. Some still ticked faintly, defying time itself.
In the center rose a small island of black rock, no larger than a courtyard. Atop it stood the ruins of a single pavilion—roof collapsed, pillars cracked, but the central array formation still glowed with pale golden light.
Lin Xuan stepped onto the island.
The moment his foot touched stone, the formation activated.
Golden light surged upward, forming a translucent curtain that blocked sound and sight from the outside world.
A voice—dry, ancient, genderless—spoke from nowhere.
"Seeker of the Cicada's Shadow. State your purpose."
Lin Xuan stood motionless.
"I seek the fragment you guard."
"You are not the first. You will not be the last. Prove your worth or be devoured by time."
The curtain rippled.
From the ruins stepped three figures—ethereal, made of golden light.
Three versions of the same man:
- One young, eyes blazing with ambition.
- One middle-aged, face lined with schemes and scars.
- One old, back bent, but gaze still sharp as a blade.
All three spoke in unison.
"We are the echoes of Venerable Cicada Heart. We are your trial."
Lin Xuan regarded them calmly.
"Then begin."
The young echo moved first—fast, reckless, a rank-six phantom fist wrapped in time-accelerating light.
Lin Xuan did not dodge.
He activated Time Reversal—ten breaths.
The fist halted mid-air, rewound.
He was already behind the echo.
Venom Mirage Gu released its cloud.
The young echo saw his own body wither—skin sloughing, bones crumbling.
He screamed—a sound like shattering glass.
The middle-aged echo attacked next—chains of golden light attempting to bind Lin Xuan's aperture.
Chain Binding Gu (repaired) met them head-on.
Wind-affinity links clashed with time-affinity chains.
A deadlock.
Lin Xuan fed Devourer Gu the overflow.
The middle echo's chains weakened, absorbed.
Thunderheart Gu flared—violet lightning arced through the golden links, shattering them.
The middle echo staggered.
The old echo watched—then struck.
Not with force.
With stillness.
Time around Lin Xuan slowed to a crawl.
His heartbeat stretched into minutes.
The old echo walked forward, hand raised to touch his forehead.
"You seek eternity," the old voice whispered. "But eternity is lonely. Are you prepared to walk alone forever?"
Lin Xuan's thoughts moved normally—Golden Cicada protecting his own perception.
He answered—voice cutting through the temporal drag like a blade.
"Lonely is better than dead."
He reversed time again—five breaths this time.
The old echo's hand froze inches from his brow.
Lin Xuan's palm pressed against the echo's chest.
Golden Cicada + Time Cicada synergy.
Time Acceleration targeted the echo itself.
The old figure aged centuries in heartbeats—light dimming, form dissolving into golden motes.
The other two echoes wavered—then collapsed into the same motes.
The formation curtain flickered and died.
Silence returned.
In the center of the ruined pavilion now floated a small, cracked cicada gu—rank-six initial, aura faint but unmistakably time-path.
[Fate Cicada Fragment — rank 6 initial (damaged). Effect: Allows limited interference with fate threads of nearby beings. Can slightly alter probability of events in a small radius. Requires immense qi to activate.]
Lin Xuan reached out.
The fragment trembled—then settled on his palm.
He blood-refined it carefully.
It resisted at first—then accepted.
A surge of power entered his aperture.
His cultivation broke through.
Rank three initial stage.
The marshes outside the barrier seemed quieter now.
Lin Xuan stored the fragment safely.
He looked toward the distant horizon—where Azure City lay.
"They will be searching Blackcloud for months," he said softly.
"By the time they realize I was never there…"
He stepped off the island.
"…I will already be in their backyard."
The Drowned Clock's waters rippled once.
Then stilled again.
To be continued...