Chương 150: The Shattered Sky

The silence of the Shattered Moon Realm was a profound and heavy thing. It was not the absence of sound, but a silence that felt ancient and full of sorrow. The gentle, silvery light from the broken moon above cast long, distorted shadows across the crystalline landscape, and a faint, almost imperceptible hum resonated in the air—the last, dying breath of a broken world. Li Yu stood on the precipice of the entrance island, his senses expanding to take in this strange new environment.

Khaos's void-veil was a bizarre, yet incredibly effective, sensation. He felt like a ghost, an observer completely disconnected from the world he was in. He could feel the weak, frayed laws of the realm brushing against the veil, but they could find no purchase, no essence to reject. He was an anomaly that the world itself could not comprehend. This was a place where caution was paramount.

He had never been in a pocket dimension before, and the ancient texts he had read spoke of them as being notoriously unstable and filled with unpredictable dangers. He took the detailed map given to him by Mo Jian from his storage ring. It was a masterfully drawn piece of work, charted by generations of Asura Clan disciples, showing the major floating islands and the known safe passages—the ancient bridges of light that connected them. But a map was only a guide. The realm was constantly, if slowly, shifting.

A rescue mission in such a place required more than a map; it required a comprehensive, multi-pronged search. He walked to the center of the entrance island and closed his eyes, focusing his will inward. A shimmering, watery portal opened before him. First, his specialized swarm emerged. A trio of Echo-Wing Prowlers took to the sky, their psychic sonar immediately beginning to map the surrounding islands, feeding a three-dimensional image of the immediate terrain into Li Yu's mind.

A dozen Scout Shrimp scuttled across the light-bridge, mapping the ground, while a pair of Soul-Sight Moths fluttered around him, ready to detect any lingering spiritual residue.

'Stay with me,' Li Yu projected to the swarm.

'Map our immediate path. Your job is guidance.' Then, the true scouts were summoned. Another, larger portal opened. First to emerge was Crimson, his Flood Dragon form now the size of a large python. Next came Volt & Jolt, the three-tailed spirit eels crackling with contained golden lightning. Then came Ying and Zhao, the Abyssal Water-Drakes, their midnight-blue bodies exuding an aura of cold, calculating power.

Finally, a shimmer in the air resolved into the kaleidoscopic form of Mirage, the Phantasmal Reef Octopus. Li Yu looked at his assembled beasts, a silent, powerful team ready to be unleashed upon this broken world. He issued a series of simple, direct commands.

'Crimson, take the eastern sector. Follow the main artery of islands marked on the map. If you find signs of battle or a destroyed bridge, return immediately.' Crimson let out a silent, mental hiss of acknowledgment and shot off, a streak of jade lightning against the silvery sky.

'Volt & Jolt, take the western sector. Your senses are sharpest for residual energy. If you detect a large concentration of demonic techniques or defensive arrays, unleash a single, high-altitude pulse of lightning and return.' The twin eels crackled and vanished, two bolts of golden light disappearing into the distance.

'Ying, Zhao. The northern sector is a dense cluster of smaller islands. It is the most likely place for a prolonged chase. Search it thoroughly. If you find the enemy, do not engage. Let out a single, joint draconic roar and fall back to a safe distance.' The two drakes dipped their heads in a gesture of regal understanding and flew off together, moving with synchronized grace.

'Mirage. You will go to the center, to the ruins marked as the 'Moon Temple.' That is the most logical place to make a final stand. Go there. Find a high vantage point. Remain hidden. You are my final confirmation.' The octopus pulsed once with a rainbow of colors, then simply ceased to be visible, its form melting into the background light. With his powerful, named beasts acting as his wide-net search party, and his own specialized swarm acting as his personal guide, Li Yu began his advance.

He stepped onto the first light-bridge, moving with a steady, unhurried pace. For hours, he moved through the silent, beautiful world, crossing vast, open plains of shattered glass and navigating through forests of crystalline trees that chimed with a soft, melodic sound. The Echo-Wing Prowlers provided a perfect, real-time map of his surroundings, allowing him to avoid spatial fissures and unstable terrain. The first report came nearly two hours into his search.

A streak of jade lightning appeared on the horizon, rapidly approaching. It was Crimson. The young Flood Dragon landed before him, agitated, projecting a simple, urgent feeling: Broken. Path. Anger. He had found a destroyed light-bridge. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

"Good work, Crimson," Li Yu said calmly, recalling the beast into his sanctuary to rest. The report confirmed they were on the right trail. He altered his course, heading east. An hour later, a faint, distant flash of golden lightning lit up the silvery sky far to the west. It was the signal from Volt & Jolt. Li Yu stopped, turning his head in that direction. The signal was faint, meaning they were at the very edge of their designated sector. He sent a mental command for them to return, then analyzed his map.

The signal had come from the direction of a large, isolated island marked only with a symbol for 'dangerous beasts'. It was a possible, but unlikely, hiding place. He made a note of it and continued on his primary path. The Wraith Hand Clan was herding their prey, and the most logical direction was still towards the center. The hours bled into one another. The silvery twilight of the realm began to deepen into a soft, glowing night.

It was then that a deep, resonant sound, a draconic roar, echoed from the far north. It was the signal from Ying and Zhao. It was distant, but clear. They had found them. Li Yu's pace quickened, his form a blur as he crossed the final light-bridges, his swarm working overtime to keep up and ensure his path was clear. As he drew closer, he could feel the faint, lingering vibrations of battle in the crystalline structures around him.

He finally arrived on a high ridge of a large, crystalline island, looking down into a bowl-shaped valley. In the center stood the crumbling, skeletal ruins of an ancient, moon-white temple. Huddled within was a group of about a dozen figures in the blood-red robes of the Asura Demon Clan. They were surrounded by a shimmering, golden barrier of light, but it was flickering weakly, on the verge of collapse.

Li Yu could see Mo Ling among them, her face pale and streaked with grime, her fiery spirit now a grim, desperate ember. Surrounding the temple, scattered in a loose, arrogant perimeter, were the forces of the Wraith Hand Clan. There were at least forty of them, and leading them were the three Wraith Generals. They were waiting, like vultures circling a dying animal. From a hidden spot a mile away, a shimmer in the air resolved into the form of Mirage.

It had arrived earlier and had been observing, just as commanded. It pulsed a simple confirmation to Li Yu: Yes. This is the place. No hidden enemies.

'Excellent work, all of you,' Li Yu projected, recalling all of his beasts back into the sanctuary. Their part was done. The situation was exactly as he had deduced. The barrier around the Asura disciples was now flickering so violently it was almost transparent. They had maybe ten minutes of protection left.

'This is perfect,' Li Yu thought, a cold, analytical light in his eyes. The Wraith Hand forces were all focused inward, their backs completely exposed to him. He stood up on the ridge, in plain sight, but the Wraith Hand disciples, in their arrogance, had posted no rear guards. They were utterly oblivious to his presence. He raised his right hand. The air around his palm grew heavy and dark. Wisps of his abyss-black spiritual energy, impossibly dense and potent, rose and coalesced.

He did not form a dozen javelins this time. He formed over forty, one for every single enemy below. A silent, deadly constellation of starless night hovered before him, each javelin quivering with an unimaginable, condensed power. Inside the temple, Mo Ling looked at the faces of her five remaining, able-bodied disciples. The barrier gave a final, mournful groan and shattered into a million motes of golden light. The three Wraith Generals laughed, a synchronized, cruel sound.

"Finally," the lead general sneered.

"Now, kill them all. Slowly." The forty Wraith Hand disciples raised their weapons, their faces masks of sadistic glee, and began to advance. They never took a second step. From the ridge behind them, Li Yu made a simple, downward flick of his wrist. There was no sound. There was no grand explosion. There was only a silent, instantaneous barrage of absolute annihilation.

The forty-plus abyssal javelins moved as one, crossing the distance in a fraction of a second, each one striking its designated target with perfect, unerring accuracy. The ordinary disciples were not impaled. The moment a javelin touched them, the impossibly dense void and water energy within it did not pierce, but detonated in a silent, implosive burst.

The disciples, their armor, their weapons, and their very bodies were instantly and completely disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but a faint wisp of black smoke that quickly dissipated in the silvery air. The three Wraith Generals, for all their peak Foundation Establishment power, met the same fate. A javelin struck each of them in the head, and their arrogant sneers were wiped from existence as their heads, followed by the rest of their bodies, vanished into nothingness.

In less than a second, the entire ambush force was gone. Not killed, but erased. Not a single drop of blood, not a single shard of bone, not a single scrap of cloth remained to prove they had ever existed. Inside the ruins, Mo Ling and her disciples could only wait. They had been prepared for a final, desperate, suicidal battle. They were not prepared for this. One moment, their enemies were advancing, the next, the world was silent and empty.

Li Yu lowered his hand, the last vestiges of abyssal energy dissolving back into nothingness. He leaped down from the ridge, his form a silent shadow, and landed softly on the edge of the temple ruins. He walked into the main chamber, his simple, righteous sect robes a stark contrast to the utter desolation outside.

Mo Ling and her disciples stared at him, their weapons still raised, their minds struggling to connect the calm, handsome young man before them with the impossible, god-like annihilation they had just failed to witness. Li Yu looked at their exhausted, wounded forms, and a gentle, reassuring smile touched his lips.

"Lady Ling," he said, his voice calm and quiet.

"It seems you and your companions are in need of a rescue."