Tunde collapsed on the ground, exhausted, his muscles screaming in pain. The others cast wary glances at the old man as he moved toward Daiki. Zehra stepped in his path, her frost blade glowing, her eyes sharp with suspicion. The glowing figure looked at her with a calm, concerned expression.

  “I mean him no harm, young one, but he needs help,” the man said gently.

  “Who are you?” Zehra challenged, her grip tightening on her blade.

  “Let him through,” Tunde murmured, drawing surprised looks from both Sera and Zehra. “You don’t go through what he just did if you mean us harm,” he added, his voice tired but firm. “Besides, Zhu seems fine with him,” he said, nodding toward the Ethralite, who was curled up next to him, shivering slightly but calm.

  Zehra hesitated, then stepped back, giving the old man space. The man nodded gratefully before floating above Daiki, his hands glowing as he began to check the monk’s body. With each touch, a burst of white light emanated from his fingers.

  Turning back to Zhu, Tunde placed his hand on the Ethralite’s body, feeling the internal struggle between Zhu's Ethra and the malevolent power left by the evil being. Tunde added his own Ethra to help, expelling the last remnants of the dark energy. Zhu settled, slipping into a deep sleep.

  The old man sighed as he straightened up. “Your friend will be fine. He just overexerted himself with the talismans. Only one with such pious faith and an affinity for order could wield them like that. Remarkable,” he murmured.

  “Why did you save us?” Tunde asked, finally drawing the man’s attention.

  The white-haired man returned to the stone he had been floating on earlier. “Because I won’t allow any more lives to be lost due to my mistakes,” he replied solemnly.

  “Forgive me, but... does the Talahan Clan still rule the empire? And if so, is it the Flame Emperor?” the old man asked, his tone cautious.

  Tunde looked confused until Zehra spoke up. “Yes, the Heavenly Flame Emperor still rules the empire, and it still stands,” she replied.

  The old man snorted. “Heavenly Flame Emperor? Does he now consider himself part of the heavens?” he laughed softly.

  “Forgive me,” he said, his tone softening. “It has been a long time since I’ve spoken to anyone. My name is Bai, and I have lived in isolation from humanity for the past two hundred years.”

  Tunde blinked in surprise, the exhaustion suddenly weighing on him again. The old man clapped his hands, and Tunde jerked awake, his fatigue momentarily washed away.

  “I apologize. You were all influenced by my concept. This place is my domain, after all,” Bai explained as Tunde rose to his feet, glancing around.

  It was then that Tunde noticed Sera had been unnervingly calm. She blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance, her hand instinctively going to her blade.

  “You were brave to think you could stand a chance against him,” Bai said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Or perhaps foolish, given that you’re all lords and believed you could scratch a saint without help.”

  Tunde’s eyes widened. “He was a saint?” he asked, realization dawning on him. It made sense now why he hadn’t been able to inflict any real damage.

  Bai nodded. “In a manner of speaking. But that is of little consequence now. What I must understand is why you came to this island, which should have been off-limits to anyone except the Talahan Clan.”

  “Our ship’s captain took the fastest, yet most dangerous route to Talahar, and we were stranded here,” Zehra explained.

  Bai sighed heavily. “The foolishness and greed of humans know no bounds. And now it has left you and your people at the mercy of a being born of my mistakes.”

  “Are you saying the crew we left by the ship is in danger?” Tunde asked, alarm rising in his voice.

  “More importantly, what do you mean by ‘your mistake’?” Sera asked, her eyes narrowing as she turned to the elder.

  “In my time, many sought not just the peak of cultivation but a deeper understanding of their affinities and concepts,” Bai began. “I sought enlightenment, to cross the barrier from a mere cultivator into sainthood. And I did—at a great cost.”

  “I don’t understand,” Zehra muttered, glancing toward the entrance of the cave.

  “Be calm,” Bai reassured her. “He can no more invade this place than he can survive the talismans of your monk.”

  “But you invaded his space,” Tunde pointed out.

  “Indeed,” Bai acknowledged. “Because while he was once a part of me, I am no longer a part of what he has become,” the elder said, pain evident in his voice.

  “Forgive me,” he continued, “but I must start at the beginning if you are to understand.” He beckoned them closer, and as they gathered around, Bai touched each of their foreheads, one by one.

  The cool touch of the saint’s finger sent a wave of calm over Tunde. His eyelids grew heavy, and within moments, his eyes closed as sleep overcame him.

  ***************************

  Tunde woke up groggily, finding himself in the middle of a well-worn road, with people walking past as though he didn’t exist. It took him a moment to realize they couldn’t see him. Blinking rapidly as he stood up, he glanced to the side and saw Zehra and Sera, the two cultivators staring at him with the same confused expression that was all over his face.

  “What is this? Where are we?” Sera asked, her hand instinctively reaching for her missing blade. As if that wasn’t shocking enough, a woman and her child passed through her, causing Tunde’s eyes to widen.

  He glanced around before looking back at Sera, who was frantically patting herself to ensure she was still intact. “We’re in some kind of memory,” Tunde muttered. Zehra, who had started moving ahead, paused and glanced back at him.

  “The Saint’s memory?” she asked.

  Tunde shrugged. “There’s no other explanation. Whatever he wanted to show us is hidden within this... place, wherever it is,” he replied.

  “I know where we are,” Sera suddenly said, her eyes widening as she took off running. Her form phased through the people and carriages on the road as she moved ahead, with Tunde and Zehra close behind.

  Soon, the landscape started to look familiar to Tunde. The tall trees, the lush green vines hanging from them—it all rang a bell. They came to a stop at a hill overlooking a valley. Once a dazzling sight, the valley was filled with flowing waterfalls and hundreds of people below.

  “It’s the village,” Tunde breathed, astonished.

  “Indeed,” a voice said beside them. They turned to see Elder Bai, the Saint, staring down at the village with a forlorn look. “Or what it was a long time ago. Come,” he said, as he began to float into the air. Tunde found his body lifting gently as well, following Bai's lead. Zehra and Sera remained silent behind him.

  They flew over carefully cultivated farmlands and large buildings, where Tunde could feel the presence of cultivators at various stages, up to the Lord Realm. Their destination seemed to be the glittering temple in the distance, its shining white pillars and silver roofs a stark contrast to the ruined remnant they knew in the present.

  “This was my home, the settlement of the White Blossom—my sect,” Elder Bai said, his tone wistful. Tunde glanced at him and saw the distant look in his eyes.

  “They were my people, and I was their Highlord,” Bai continued.

  “Highlord?” Zehra asked from behind.

  The elder nodded. They hovered above the temple, slowly descending into its interior. The grand hall was nothing like the ruin Tunde had seen earlier. Instead of broken columns and dust-covered floors, it was a gleaming white sanctuary. The floor bore the carving of a sword, each tile forming part of a golden blade when viewed together.

  The throne Tunde had once seen as an old, broken relic was now polished white marble, and the room was filled with cultivators from Adept to Lord rank. All eyes were on the man seated on the throne—the same man who now stood beside them, Elder Bai.

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  Tunde realized the man on the throne was an exact replica of the Bai they knew, dressed in fine gold and white robes, with an oiled snow-white beard and sapphire-colored eyes. Tunde couldn’t hear what was being said between Bai and the assembled cultivators, but the elder waved his hand dismissively.

  “Irrelevant,” Bai said. “They’re talking about the prosperity I brought to the sect and our growing ties with the Talahan Clan. Nothing important compared to what comes after.”

  Soon, the cultivators filed out of the room, the giant stone doors—missing in the present—closing behind them. Elder Bai remained alone with the red brazier burning beside him. After a brief moment of stillness, the elder’s memory-self snapped his eyes open, and the space in front of him twisted. Black fire flickered and grew, as if consuming the space around it, until a figure stepped through.

  Tunde's breath caught in his throat, and he saw Zehra restraining herself from bowing. Sera’s eyes widened as well.

  “Tunde,” Sera whispered.

  Tunde shook his head. “No, it’s not Varis,” he muttered.

  The Saint turned to him in surprise. “You know the kid Varis?”

  Tunde chuckled weakly. “Master Varis is no child,” he said, causing Bai to frown.

  “They always did push their descendants without care,” Bai remarked before turning back to the memory.

  The figure who stepped through had black hair and grey eyes, exuding an overwhelming presence, even within the memory. Instead of the fire and lightning aura typical of the Talahan Clan, this man—who Tunde was certain was a Peak Master—radiated the deadly sharpness of a blade. Tunde suspected his affinity was with wind.

  “You’re looking at the father of the one you know as Varis,” Bai said softly, “Shen Zao, master of the Talahan Clan and last heir to the Flowing Sword Sect.”

  There was a fondness in Bai’s tone that struck Tunde as odd.

  In the memory, Bai stood up and smiled. “Shen, you couldn’t knock like everyone else, could you?” he teased.

  Shen shrugged. “When you have access to Nexus Keys, you find moving quickly more convenient,” he replied, clasping Bai’s outstretched hand.

  “Highlord, it’s good to see you coming along so well, my sworn brother,” Shen said.

  Bai laughed. “Please, you flatter me. But look at you—already at the realm of Masters. How goes your search for an acolyte to pass on your clan’s art?” Bai asked.

  “I’ve decided to pass it on to my child,” Shen replied with a soft smile.

  Bai’s eyes widened. “You’re having a child?” he asked, astonished.

  “Indeed,” Shen nodded. “The heavens have been generous to my wife and me. We’re expecting a daughter soon.”

  Tunde’s eyes drifted to the blade at Shen’s waist, a masterfully crafted weapon that stirred a sense of envy in him.

  “Then we must celebrate!” Bai exclaimed.

  But Shen gripped Bai’s shoulders, his gaze turning serious. “In time, my friend. But first, what is this I hear of you nearing the realm of a Saint?” he asked with concern.

  Bai’s smile faltered. “Where did you hear that?” he asked softly, Shen slowly releasing his shoulders.

  “You should know by now that considerable number of resources at my disposal now that I’m tied with clan Talahan” Shen replied.

  "Then the Imperial Clan is monitoring me. Tell me, brother, do they consider me a threat?" Bai asked, his voice tight with tension. Shen whirled on him, pointing a finger. "Don't you dare use that tone with me! I would bleed for you, die for you—you know that," Shen said, his eyes fierce. Bai nodded, wincing at his own words.

  "I apologize, my dear friend. Forgive me," Bai muttered. Shen sighed heavily.

  "I warned you, brother. You chose to cultivate an art that is as esoteric as it is watched. A soul and life cultivator is one thing, but a Saint of Souls?" Shen shook his head incredulously.

  "Most believed you wouldn’t surpass the Lord Realm—not without resorting to evil acts that would give the greater sects a reason to destroy your sect. Yet here you are, a Highlord from pure enlightenment," Shen continued, his eyes shining with pride for his friend.

  "Then you must understand why I seek the Exalted Realm of a Saint. The Song of Souls opens doors, not just for me but for my sect. I could even obtain a s—" Bai began, but Shen abruptly released his aura, cutting his brother off.

  "Careful, brother," Shen warned. "There are things even we as Masters should not speak of, no matter our knowledge. You know better than that."

  Bai nodded quickly. "Forgive me, I forgot myself."

  Shen sighed, softening slightly. "Then advance on the normal path. Show them that you mean no harm. You cannot stand against the greater clans, not yet—not as a Highlord. I beg you to see reason," Shen pleaded.

  "I was proud, vain, egotistical," the elder Bai said quietly to Tunde, as they watched the memory. "I broke his trust. I lied to him."

  In the memory, Bai nodded to Shen. "Very well, brother. I will advance to Master. Perhaps the heavens will grant me another chance to become a Saint later in life," he said with a soft smile, embracing Shen once more.

  "You are Bai of the White Blossom Clan. If we have to, we will split the heavens," Shen replied, his voice steely with resolve. Bai laughed.

  “What was wrong with becoming a Saint at Highlord?” Sera asked, her voice breaking the tension. Tunde realized the two women were still with them, closely observing.

  "A Saint isn't just another step up in cultivation," Bai explained, turning to Sera. "To become a Saint is to touch upon the essence of one’s affinity, to gain a deeper insight into it. It places you in the realm of paragons and beyond."

  “You could easily overpower the vassal clans and sects of the Empire,” Tunde remarked, realization dawning. The elder nodded.

  The memory shifted as day turned to night in an instant. "I waited until Shen had left, assured him I would keep my promise—and then, I broke it," Bai said grimly.

  The scene changed again, this time to the brightly lit temple room of the White Blossom Sect. The elder sat cross-legged in meditation. "I remember it like it was yesterday," the present Bai murmured, a faint smile on his lips. "The moment I touched the Song of Souls—eternal resonance."

  The surroundings of the memory rippled as a powerful presence filled the room. The elder’s body began to glow from within.

  “What does it feel like?” Sera asked in awe, her eyes fixed on the glowing figure.

  “Power. Pure power,” Bai replied simply.

  In the memory, the light around the elder intensified, but suddenly, something went terribly wrong. Tunde snapped his gaze to Bai, who nodded grimly. "Yes, it was here that everything went wrong."

  The light around the elder froze. His form rippled as if reality itself was struggling to remain intact. Then, in a horrifying moment, the elder’s body began to tear itself apart. His agonized scream echoed as the temple doors burst open, and cultivators stared in terror at the blinding light—only to turn to ash in an instant. Balls of white light rose from their ashen forms and drifted toward the elder.

  "Perhaps Shen was bound by a soul oath," the present Bai began as they watched the gruesome scene unfold. "But I refuse to believe my sworn brother would have withheld the dangers of reaching the Saint Realm as a Highlord."

  "Dangers?" Zehra asked, her voice filled with horror.

  "The Saint Realm is not just a normal advancement," Bai explained. "It is where a cultivator fully merges their body and soul into one entity. Only at the pinnacle of mortal achievement can we even contemplate the Saint Realm."

  “Regent?” Sera asked, seeking clarification.

  Bai shook his head. “I can’t say more than that. There are... laws in this world, in this plane of existence, that I now understand as a Saint. I cannot reveal more," he said solemnly. "But I broke those laws, and I paid the price—along with my sect.”

  The dark miasma began to swirl in the memory, and Tunde recognized the presence taking shape.

  “My form wasn’t strong enough to merge both body and soul,” Elder Bai explained, watching the scene with a heavy heart. "As a result, we were separated by the laws."

  “Body and soul…” Tunde whispered, his eyes widening.

  The elder nodded. “Indeed. Where I am the purity of the soul—a Soul Saint—he is all that was evil within me. My shortcomings, inadequacies, doubts, and jealousy—everything condensed into a separate entity, given sentience."

  The twisted image of the elder manifested with a snarl, a black orb embedded in its chest. The elder, now reduced to a spirit, could only watch in horror. The scene blurred before reforming into a desolate settlement, smoke rising all around. Two figures fought amidst the ashes. All around them, the charred remains of those who once called the settlement home lay scattered. The two halves of the same being exchanged techniques, each attack proving futile.

  “For days on end, I tried to put him down, but I couldn’t. Just as he couldn’t harm me,” the saint said wistfully. “We were of the same existence. I could no more destroy him than he could destroy me. But one thing we could do was seal each other away.”

  “The seal around the island,” Tunde murmured, understanding.

  The saint nodded. “Indeed, it was my doing. The only way to contain him within the island. While I sought enlightenment as a means of repentance, he needed to consume flesh and soul to grow stronger.” The saint’s tone grew heavier. “But in his bloodlust, he wiped out all life on the island. We were the only two left.”

  “I managed to seal both of us away, sending a message to Shen to warn him. I received no response, but I trusted him to do the right thing,” Bai said with a deep sigh.

  “You’re saying we’re the first to set foot on this island since then?” Zehra asked incredulously. Tunde winced—this was a stretch, even for the terrible luck he seemed to have.

  “Indeed,” the saint confirmed, “so you understand my surprise at your arrival.”

  Tunde shivered as reality twisted. His eyes snapped open again, realizing they were back in the cave. The saint now floated in front of them, seated atop a rock. Tunde noticed Daiki was awake and meditating, whispering softly under his breath. The monk snapped his eyes open as the rest of the group roused.

  “Now, do you understand?” the saint asked.

  “Those you seek will be nothing but husks at this point, their souls siphoned to feed the ever-hungry beast. I can offer you a way off this island, and I pray to the hegemons that I might be able to seal the beast again,” the saint said.

  Tunde leaned back against the cool cave wall, swallowing slowly before opening his eyes and turning to the group. “Well?” he asked.

  Sera shrugged as she patted the still-sleeping form of Zhu. “Our other option is to go up against a saint-like creature with techniques that could erase us from existence,” Zehra pointed out, clearly weighing the impossibility of their task.

  "Bahataba shrouds our lives under the indulgences of the vile ones," Daiki muttered, his eyes hard as steel. “What say you?” he asked the monk.

  “I would be breaking my oath to Bahataba if we left such evil behind,” Daiki replied, sitting up straight.

  Zehra groaned as Sera chuckled. “Does Bahataba know we could die?” Sera asked sarcastically.

  Daiki nodded solemnly. “Death and rebirth are part of the cycle of existence. If our purpose is to cleanse Adamath of such evil, it is a worthy price,” he answered, invoking Bahataba’s teachings.

  Zehra blinked, exasperated. “I was... it was... gah, nevermind,” she muttered helplessly, throwing her hands up in defeat.

  Tunde nodded and turned to the saint. “What can we do?” he asked.