The shadow talons descended toward Wei Lin's exposed throat.

Zhao Xun's face twisted into a feral grin, his blood-ringed eyes gleaming with murderous intent. In moments, the merchant would be dead, their strange connection severed along with his head.

Three feet away. Two. One—

A flash of movement from the edge of the Devouring Cathedral caught Zhao Xun's attention a heartbeat before impact. Pure instinct made him redirect his strike, his shadow talons curving away from Wei Lin's neck to intercept the incoming threat.

His shadow claws met a palm strike of devastating simplicity. The impact sent shockwaves through Zhao Xun's arm, shattering his shadow talons and snapping the small bones in his hand like brittle twigs.

"Argh!" Zhao Xun howled, leaping backward as pain shot through his mangled fingers. Blood dripped from his shattered hand, each droplet sizzling as it hit the membranous floor of his manifestation.

Heart racing, Zhao Xun focused on the newcomer who had materialized at the edge of his domain. Another Azure Peak disciple, dressed in plain blue robes with a face that betrayed little emotion.

"Another little sect rat," Zhao Xun spat, cradling his injured hand. "Have you come to die alongside your friend?"

The newcomer didn't reply, simply settling into a casual stance that somehow managed to look both relaxed and perfectly balanced for either attack or defense. Something about his calm demeanor made Zhao Xun's skin prickle with unease.

A cold realization seeped into Zhao Xun's mind, he was facing a significant problem. The half-conscious Wei Lin continued to drain his shadow essence through their connected spiritual pathways, while this new threat showed no signs of fear despite facing an Eighth Stage cultivator's domain manifestation.

"Who are you?" Zhao Xun demanded, buying time as he attempted to sever the parasitic connection with Wei Lin. To his mounting horror, the bond refused to break, continuing to siphon away his hard-won cultivation base.

Still, the newcomer remained silent, his gaze unnervingly steady. This was not the reaction Zhao Xun was accustomed to. Most cultivators, even talented ones, showed at least some trepidation when confronted with his Devouring Cathedral. This one looked almost... bored.

Panic began to bubble beneath Zhao Xun's cultivated veneer of confidence. He needed to assess the threat level of this interloper quickly.

"Abyssal Eye," Zhao Xun whispered, channeling what remained of his uncompromised shadow essence into his blood-ringed eyes.

The world shifted as his perception deepened, reality peeling away like layers of an onion to reveal the hidden structures of the cultivation world. Most inner worlds appeared to his Abyssal Eye as architectural metaphors, palaces, gardens, mountains, or seas, their forms reflecting the cultivator's understanding of reality.

What he saw inside this cultivator made him stagger backward in horror.

The inner world before him defied conventional understanding. Unlike the chaotic mess of most Qi Condensation disciples or even the structured but limited domains of Elemental Realm masters, this was... wrong.

Four distinct quadrants stretched outward from a central point: mountains to the northwest, gardens to the northeast with spiritual plants, strange platforms to the southeast, and training fields to the southwest. But it wasn't the layout that sent ice through Zhao Xun's veins; it was what existed at the center.

A tree-like entity pulsed there, not truly a tree as mortals understood them, but something that merely borrowed the concept of "tree" to make itself comprehensible to three-dimensional perception. Its roots extended into every quadrant, every aspect of this impossible inner world, not planted in the ground but somehow embedding themselves into the fabric of reality itself.

Above this abomination hung three celestial bodies, two suns, one red and one blue, orbiting in perfect opposition. And between them, a tiny star that no one below the Stellar Realm should possess.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"What... what abomination is this?" Zhao Xun whispered, unable to tear his gaze away despite the mounting dread in his chest.

As if in response to his horrified fascination, the tree-thing at the center of this impossible world shifted. Not a physical movement, something far more disturbing. It seemed to adjust its focus, as though becoming aware of Zhao Xun's intrusion.

And then it saw him.

Not with eyes, for it had none, but with something far more fundamental: a cosmic attention that transcended physical senses.

In that moment, Zhao Xun understood he was being perceived not by a cultivator or even a spirit beast, but by something that existed partially outside the laws that governed their reality. Something that had roots in other worlds, other dimensions, other possibilities.

The tree didn't attack him. It didn't need to. Its mere attention was enough.

Zhao Xun's carefully constructed understanding of cultivation, of reality itself, began to unravel. The certainties upon which he had built his identity, the supremacy of the Hungry Shadow Scripture, the inevitability of his ascension, the fixed nature of the cultivation world, all revealed themselves as childish simplifications before the thing that observed him.

"No," Zhao Xun whimpered, blood leaking from his eyes as his Abyssal Eye technique collapsed under the weight of what it was perceiving. "This cannot be."

His domain flickered, the Devouring Cathedral wavering as his concentration shattered. The membranous ground solidified back into forest floor, the twisted trees returning to their natural state as his spiritual manifestation lost coherence.

Zhao Xun didn't notice. His physical eyes remained open, fixed on the newcomer, but his mind had retreated inward, frantically trying to rebuild the walls of perception that had been so casually demolished by what he'd glimpsed.

His body remained standing, but Zhao Xun was no longer truly present. His consciousness had curled into a protective ball, shutting out external stimuli in a desperate attempt to preserve sanity. Blood continued to seep from his eyes, ears, and nose as the structure of his mind continued to collapse.

His lips moved soundlessly, forming the same phrase over and over:

"The tree sees. The tree knows. The tree remembers."

***

The demonic cultivator froze mid-attack, his shadow talons dissipating inches from Wei Lin's throat. His eyes, those disturbing black orbs with blood-red rings, stared directly at me with an intensity that should have been threatening. Instead, they seemed to look through me, fixed on something far beyond.

Blood began to trickle from his eyes, then his ears and nose. His lips moved in silent repetition of words I couldn't make out.

I lowered my hand, perplexed by this unexpected development. My Titan’s Crest-enhanced Phantom Strike had connected solidly with his shadow claws, and while the impact had clearly shattered bones in his hand, that alone shouldn't have reduced an Eighth Stage cultivator to this catatonic state.

"What the hell?" I muttered.

The forest around us transformed as the strange membrane-like ground reverted to normal dirt and fallen leaves. The twisted, unnatural trees straightened, returning to their ordinary forms, albeit still corrupted by the ambient demonic energy of the Blackfang Mountains.

Whatever bizarre technique the demonic cultivator had been using, it had collapsed completely.

At my feet, Wei Lin stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked disoriented, but alive. The demonic cultivator's hand remained fixed to his forehead, fingers rigid despite their broken state.

"Ke Yin?" Wei Lin's voice was weak, barely audible. "Is that really you?"

"It's me," I confirmed, keeping a wary eye on the frozen attacker. "Don't move yet. I'm not sure what's happening here."

"How did you find me?" Wei Lin asked, his gaze drifting to the catatonic figure looming over him.

"Later," I replied. "First, let's deal with this situation."

Azure's voice spoke in my mind. "Master, I believe the demonic cultivator attempted to use some form of spiritual perception technique on you. His reaction suggests he saw something in your inner world that overwhelmed him."

I inwardly cringed. That made sense, but it wasn't exactly comforting.

"Is he... dead?" Wei Lin asked, cautiously attempting to sit up despite the hand still attached to his forehead.

"I don't think so," I replied. "But something's definitely wrong with him. Can you break the connection between you?"

Wei Lin's brow furrowed in concentration. "I'm not sure I want to," he said after a moment, his voice growing slightly stronger. "Something's happening. I can feel his shadow energy flowing into my inner world. It's... feeding a new stall."

I raised an eyebrow but decided not to question this revelation just yet. The demonic cultivator's aura had begun to fluctuate wildly, the powerful Eighth Stage Qi Condensation presence diminishing with each passing second. Simultaneously, I could sense Wei Lin's own cultivation base strengthening, the energy that had been draining from the attacker seemingly transferring directly to him.

The process continued for several seconds, neither of us speaking as this bizarre cultivation theft played out before us. Finally, with a ragged gasp, the demonic cultivator's eyes rolled back in his head. His hand fell away from Wei Lin's forehead, and he collapsed to the forest floor, empty eyes staring sightlessly at the canopy above.

At the same moment, Wei Lin's aura stabilized, settling into a clear, unmistakable Eighth Stage Qi Condensation presence.

"Did you just... consume his cultivation?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.