The tender moment of reunion, a fragile warmth in the cool air of the Dao Xuan Sect, was shattered in an instant.

A tremor, deep and violent, shook the very foundations of the mountain. It was not the familiar shudder of an earthquake, but something more profound, a groan from the world’s core that resonated in the bones of every living creature.

Luo Qingyi, still holding her mother’s hand, looked up, her expression shifting from tearful joy to sharp alarm. Zunjie’s face, which had been softened by a hope he hadn’t felt in centuries, instantly hardened into the grim mask of a warrior bracing for impact.

Luo Yu, newly returned to the world of the living, felt the tremor not just in the ground but in the very mana of the air. Her brows furrowed, her senses, though dormant for an age, screaming of an immense and hostile power approaching.