“I suppose it is time to return, Elder Han,” Yao Shen clasped his hands behind his back and sighed. They had reached the end of the outer exchange, and unsurprisingly no further stall could truly attract his attention. He could feign interest in poorly forged swords, weak spiritual herbs and supposedly ‘rare ores’ peddled by the more daring disciples, but a single sweep of his Divine Sense had already indicated that there was nothing that could hold his interest.

“Shall we go by foot?” Elder Han chose to politely ask, some caution leaking into his voice. Yao Shen’s display of strength had been impressive, but it was not a ‘novel’ concept. Elder Han was well aware that there existed individuals far stronger than himself in the continent of Ionea, and even though it was shocking to bear the brunt of the Patriarch’s power, it did not shake his Dao Heart. As a cultivator who originated from mortal roots, if the concept of stronger existences than himself roaming the Azlak Plains had fazed him, he would never have progressed to this stage.

But the power Yao Shen had displayed earlier…. that was an entirely unfamiliar concept to him. Had he himself not been influenced by the power himself and witnessed its purity, he would be inclined to think that the patriarch was dabbling in the demonic arts. For the act of influencing another’s emotions in itself was not unfamiliar to cultivators, many forbidden demonic arts could even control another person’s mind.

However, while the demonic arts were vile, tainted, and required time, effort and sacrifice to reach completion, the Patriarch’s actions were casual and unhurried. Moreover, not once did the power try to influence his mind into doing something he did not wish to— the memories were his own, the tone, inflection, of the Patriarch’s voice unmistakably that of his father. It was as if the mysterious concept the Patriarch had employed wished to gently coax him to remember the safety and comfort he felt in the embrace of his father’s arms as an infant, not out of maliciousness but… kindness? Empathy? He was utterly unsure regarding this matter….. barring just one thing: the Patriarch had become an unfathomable character, and he would be lying if he claimed that it did not unsettle him.

“No, there is no need. Shadow?” Yao Shen shook his head, before turning around and offering his right hand to Shadow. As a late-stage core formation cultivator, Shadow still needed to rely upon an artifact to achieve flight.

Realizing his intentions, Shadow seemed to lightly flinch as she averted her gaze and pretended to scan for threats in an attempt to hide the light blush forming on her face. A few seconds passed before she gingerly accepted his hand, a slight smile forming on her face before she hurriedly concealed it with a mask of indifference.

Yao Shen started floating a foot above the ground, and the next second a strong gust of wind started forming around Shadow, raising her to his level. Elder Han nodded, choosing to float next to him and wait.

Maintaining a firm grip over Shadow’s hand, he channeled his Qi and they began to ascend higher until they cleared the tallest building in the outer sect by a fair margin. Then, Yao Shen propelled them forward in a straight line, their sect robes fluttering in the wind. A cursory divine sense sweep made Yao Shen chuckle in amusement, as many disciples pointed towards the sky and exclaimed words of astonishment and congratulations.

Yao Shen limited his speed to the threshold of a mid-stage core formation expert to ensure that Shadow felt no discomfort. He found flying a fairly pleasurable excursion, the wind resistance no more than a cool breeze, pleasant breeze for a Nascent Soul expert, let alone a Soul Emperor.

A few minutes later he began a gentle descent, landing with such control that even a mortal would have no cause to complain, let alone a cultivator. They were now situated at the very edge of outer sect territory, confronted with a set of ancient azure double-doors that exuded a sense of oppression and heaviness, blocking their path forward. A majestic flood dragon was carved onto each of the doors' surfaces with impeccable attention to detail, so much so that if one were to gaze for too long they would find it difficult to distinguish it from reality, and the doors far eclipsed them in size, as if they were made for twenty foot giants instead of humans.

Ten middle-aged men in azure robes stood in single file, their expressions stern and uncompromising as they stared at the newcomers with intensity— each wielding a peak-stage core formation spear artifact. The Elite Guardians of the Heavenly Sky Sect were not a force to be trifled with, each of them seasoned core formation experts that were trained in combination techniques from an early age. When they attacked as one, holding back an early-stage Nascent Soul expert was an easy task, and killing one was not entirely impossible.

“Patriarch!” They respectfully announced in unison, but they did not bow to him, not even the slightest. Their duty was not one that allowed them to lose sight of their targets, even now constantly scanning the crowd to make sure no one used the opening of the gates as an opportunity to sneak in.

“At ease,” Yao Shen acknowledged, and the cultivators stepped aside with a practiced motion and allowed them to pass.

Yao Shen released his grip on Shadow’s hand, walking past the Elite Guardians without exchanging any further words. Shadow and Elder Han walked at his side, but neither of them tried to interact with the Elite Guardians either, the latter merely nodding in acknowledgement.

A few seconds later, Yao Shen stood in front of the azure gates, the flood dragons’ gaze condescendingly landing down upon him. They were peak-nascent soul constructs, embedded with the fragmented soul of an adult flood dragon, one of the few surviving artifacts that had survived the Era of Turmoil. One glance at it and Yao Shen could tell that it was the work of a Soul Emperor, or perhaps an even higher level of existence. The art of imbibing souls in artifacts had been long lost in time, and although many attempts had been made to study the constructs in the sect’s possession, they were like cavemen trying to derive the laws of physics, lacking the tools, wisdom and guidance. Yao Shen, Elder Han and Shadow lightly flared their Qi, and he could feel the gaze of the flood dragons intensify as it recorded their Qi signature and contrasted it with the records.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the attention upon them dissipated. The gates began to rumble, the very earth trembling beneath their feet, as it slowly creaked open. The gates were not part of a larger installation or structure like one would expect, but instead integrated directly into the inner sect’s protective formation. A dome of azure energy separated the inner sect from the outer sect, shielding it not only from foreign attacks, but also blocking any attempt to pry. Thus for the outer sect disciples, the inner sect was forever shrouded by a veil of mystery— it served as to both protect from espionage and motivate the disciples harder if they wished to experience the true heavenly sky sect.

The doors finally opened, misty clouds blocking both normal sight and divine sense. That, however, would not stop the perception of a Soul Emperor. His divine sense swept past the restriction, covering the entire inner sect in a matter of seconds. Only when he was convinced that there was no ambush prepared for him did he withdraw it, his expression remaining stoic. Yao Shen was not naïve, he knew very well how the legacy families carefully guarded their power base. An ambush would be an act of grave foolishness, however, while he was certain to escape unscathed the same could not be said of Shadow.

“Proceed,” Yao Shen muttered, his words intended for Shadow, as he stepped forward into the entrance without further hesitation. Shadow walked in step with him, and Yao Shen felt the layer of soft, moist clouds harmlessly brush off against his skin— if anything, the sensation left any wind and mist practitioner like himself refreshed.

The next moment, Yao Shen took his first step into the Inner Sect territory. The first thing he noticed was the spike in Qi density, the disparity so intense that it was like comparing a barren desert with riverside territory. The inner sect was only a third in size compared to the sprawling outer sect, which in part contributed to maintaining the Qi density— but that was far from the only reason. Here lay the true foundation of the Heavenly Sky Sect, one of the three survivors in the Azlak Plains since ancient times— having come close to annihilation many times, their formations broken, treasuries looted and ancient knowledge forever lost. Despite all that, they had still survived the Era of Turmoil and stood strong even today, even if as a mere shadow of its past glory.

Finally, he focused his gaze on the lone figure standing at the inner sect entrance, whom he had long detected with his Divine Sense. His sworn rival, Zhou Hui, Patriarch of the Hui Family stood fifteen meters away cautiously observing him with a solemn expression on his face.

Yao Shen grinned.