Fang Yuan didn't descend like a god; he arrived like an inevitability.
He stood in the air, miles above the Pavilion, yet his presence felt as if he were whispering directly into everyone's ear. He looked down at the silver-haired Lu Chen, a thin, genuinely amused smile on his lips.
"So," Fang Yuan's voice rippled through the void, "the ant has finally discarded his shell. You took the Tenth Law, sacrificed your heart, and forged a needle of nothingness. Impressive. Truly."
With a casual wave of his hand, the thousands of disciples below—the masters of the Great Sects—fell to their knees. Their Qi didn't just leak; it was being pulled toward Fang Yuan like iron filings to a magnet. The "Great Harvest" had begun.
"But Lu Chen," Fang Yuan continued, his eyes glowing with a dark, ancient hunger, "did you really think the Tenth Law was outside my reach? I didn't avoid that ruin because I feared it. I avoided it because I was waiting for someone to bring its essence back to me... pre-processed."
Lu Chen didn't flinch. He adjusted his grip on Aether-Zero. The blade was silent, but the space around it was beginning to fray.
"I don't remember your name," Lu Chen said, his voice flat and devoid of human warmth. "I don't remember your crimes. But my blade tells me that you are a puncture in the world that needs to be stitched shut. And I am the needle."
In a burst of grey and gold light, Lu Chen vanished. He didn't fly; he erased the distance between himself and Fang Yuan.
CLANG.
The collision didn't make a sound—it made a shockwave of pure silence that flattened the surrounding mountains. Fang Yuan had caught the Aether-Zero blade with two fingers. The "Absolute Nullification" of the Tenth Law met the "Absolute Sovereignty" of Rank 9.
"Close," Fang Yuan whispered, his fingers bleeding slightly from the spatial edge. "But your soul is still too heavy with the ghost of that girl. Let me lighten your load