Dawn brought no light.
It brought a sickly, pale glow, as if the sun were hidden behind an invisible veil. Han Feng walked alone along an ancient trail, between steep mountains and dry trees, and the further he advanced, the more he felt that the world around him was becoming less trustworthy. It wasn't just the absence of spirit beasts or the unusual silence of the forests. It was something deeper, harder to name, as if the very laws of heaven and earth were losing stability, oscillating at intervals that no Gu Master could predict.
He still carried the residual heat of the battle against Yin Mo. The elder's blood had been spilled, and the red flame within him had fed greedily, as if it had found natural prey. The problem was that this flame was not only powerful. It was restless. It was proud. It was aggressive. With each passing hour, Han Feng perceived small variations in his own flow of primordial essence. His cultivation remained steady, but the essence circulating through his meridians felt heavier, as if it had been mixed with a foreign element. An element that didn't belong to the Gu World.
That was exactly it.
Foreign.
Han Feng had lived long enough—in two different lives—to recognize when something didn't fit. And the red flame, as much as it behaved like a treasure, was also a clear symbol that he had crossed an invisible line. Now, he was no longer just a cultivator seeking power in the shadows. He was someone who had touched a secret greater than sects and regions. He had touched the very edge of reality.
And reality… had responded.
In the distance, the clouds began to slowly swirl, forming gigantic spirals in the sky. There was no thunder, but there was a feeling of pressure descending upon the world, as if an invisible hand were pushing everything down. Han Feng stopped atop a rock and observed in silence. The surrounding spiritual energy began to accumulate abnormally, forming currents that moved like invisible rivers. In one instant, it was as if the air were empty and dead; in the next, the primordial essence became so dense that it seemed to cut through the skin.
Han Feng closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the pulse of the world.
He didn't need a prophetic scroll to understand.
The merging was approaching a new stage.
The barriers between universes were no longer just trembling.
They were beginning to give way.
When he opened his eyes, the sky had changed once more. The red star was brighter, like an open wound. The purple star seemed deeper, more distant, but at the same time closer… as if observing. And, between them, something new emerged: a faint, golden, almost invisible glow. A third light that seemed to appear and disappear at irregular intervals, as if the firmament were trying to remember something it had forgotten.
Han Feng narrowed his eyes.
— Three…
The scroll he had bought in Baihua returned to his mind.
"When the three eyes open…"
He remained still for a long time, letting the wind blow over his dark cloak. The feeling was strange. It wasn't fear. It wasn't anxiety. It was as if fate was beginning to move with more force, as if the current of the world had increased and was now trying to drag everything to an inevitable point.
Han Feng had no intention of being dragged along.
He wanted to be the one to hold the reins.
But for that, he needed time.
And time was exactly what he felt was running out.
He descended from the rock and moved forward, heading towards a small town called Shuanghe, known for being near a mountain range where ancient Gu masters had disappeared centuries ago. It wasn't an important place for sects, nor a relevant trading center, but it was a point where rumors spread quickly, and where desperate merchants sold maps and information for any price. If there were any traces of ruins emerging from nowhere, or of more intense celestial phenomena, Han Feng would find them there.
On the way, he passed a narrow stream. The water should have been crystal clear, but it was dark, reflecting a sky that didn't exist. Han Feng crouched down and touched the surface. The instant his fingers made contact, the water vibrated, and a reflection appeared… not of his face, but of another man.
A man with cold eyes.
A man with a gaze that seemed to traverse ages.
Han Feng recoiled, his heart clenching for a moment.
The reflection disappeared.
The water returned to normal.
But the sensation remained.
Han Feng fell silent, his mind racing.
—It wasn't an illusion…it was resonance.
He had seen that gaze before.
In the vision caused by the Gu of Entangled Memory.
Wang Lin.
The connection between universes was strengthening so much that even water, a simple stream, could reflect fragments from the other side.
Han Feng slowly stood up, and for the first time in a long time felt an absolute certainty:
When the collision finally happened, it wouldn't just be worlds meeting.
It would be destinies.
And the destinies wouldn't be kind.
He continued his journey until dusk. When he finally sighted Shuanghe, he realized something was wrong even before entering. The walls were low, simple, and the city had always been known for its slow pace, but now there were excessive guards. Carts blocked streets. Cultivators were gathered in groups, speaking softly, with tense expressions. Some looked at the sky repeatedly, as if expecting it to split open again.
Han Feng walked among them without drawing attention, using his concealment technique and keeping his aura completely sealed. His purple eyes were hidden behind an illusory layer, and his face seemed ordinary. Still, he felt stares.
Not stares of recognition.
Stares of fear.
He entered a tavern and sat in a corner, ordering only water. The atmosphere was heavy. The cultivators didn't drink with joy. They didn't laugh. They didn't fight. They only spoke in murmurs, as if they feared that heaven itself was listening.
Han Feng heard.
"Did you hear? They say an elder of the Heavenly Corpse Sect died."
"Not only did he die. He was erased. Burned. They say not even a soul remained."
"Who would do that?"
"I don't know… but they say there was red fire."
Han Feng remained motionless, his expression unchanged.
The rumors had already arrived.
And that meant the sects would arrive too.
Another man spoke, even more quietly:
"The worst part isn't that. The worst part is that yesterday… a ruin appeared in the mountains to the north. A huge gate, with strange inscriptions. A group of Rank 3s entered and… none returned."
Another cultivator, his face pale, added:
"One did return. But he returned without a tongue. And his eyes… his eyes were empty. He just kept pointing to the sky and crying blood."
A heavy silence fell over the tavern.
Han Feng felt his heart beat faster.
A ruin to the north.
Again.
This was repeating itself.
As if the world were opening fissures in various places, allowing fragments of the other universe to begin to emerge.
And if this was happening in small places like Shuanghe… then the rest of the world was probably already in silent chaos.
Han Feng finished his water and stood up.
There was no reason to stay any longer.
He left the tavern and walked through the narrow streets until he found an old merchant selling maps and scrolls.
The merchant looked at him suspiciously.
"Want a map?"
Han Feng placed some primitive stones on the table.
"I want information about the ruin to the north."
The old man swallowed hard.
"Do you want to die?"
Han Feng didn't answer.
The merchant hesitated, but picked up a crumpled scroll and opened it.
"It's here. Mountain of the Three Echoes. But… it's not a normal ruin. The walls shine like metal and have symbols that nobody understands." Some say it's not a place in the Gu World.
Han Feng picked up the scroll.
"This is enough."
He turned away and left the city before nightfall.
But before leaving, he stopped and looked back.
High on the walls, a group of cultivators watched the sky.
And at that instant…
The sky truly changed.
A crack appeared, small but visible.
Not like before, not like a thread.
This time, it looked like a sword cut.
The wind stopped.
The sounds disappeared.
Spiritual energy vanished completely for a fraction of a second, and thousands of cultivators felt as if their hearts had stopped.
Then, a golden glow leaked from the crack.
And everyone saw.
Behind the sky, there was another sky.
A red sky.
And behind that red sky… a gigantic figure.
Not a man.
Something bigger. A colossal shadow, with countless eyes.
The entire world seemed to freeze.
Han Feng felt the flame within him react violently, almost wanting to burst from his body.
His chest burned.
His soul trembled.
But he didn't look away.
He stared.
And, for a brief instant, one of the shadow's eyes looked directly at him.
Han Feng felt the crushing pressure of an existence that was beyond any Rank, beyond any sect.
The crack closed.
The world returned to normal.
Sounds returned like a wave.
And then screams began to echo through Shuanghe.
Some cultivators fell to their knees, vomiting blood. Others fled like madmen. Some simply stood still, their eyes empty, as if they had lost their sanity.
Han Feng remained silent, gazing at the sky.
His face was calm.
But inside him… something was solidifying.
He finally understood:
This wasn't just a meeting of universes.
This was an invasion.
And the Gu World was about to be swallowed by something he didn't understand.
Han Feng turned slowly and walked towards the mountains to the north.
His black cloak billowed in the wind, and his purple eyes, now undisguised, gleamed like blades in the dark.
"If ruins are rising… then treasures are rising."
He smiled.
A cold smile.
"And if monsters are rising… then I just need to get stronger."
Night fell over the Western Region.
And, that night, the red, purple, and gold stars shone together for the first time.
Like three eyes slowly opening in the sky.