No one can say for sure whether the Tongxuan Realm has an edge or not.

Take the North, for example. What people usually refer to as the "North Pole" or the "Far North" is really just the vast shoreline of the Northern Sea, stretching hundreds of thousands of li.

As for what lies beyond the vast and seemingly endless Northern Sea, even cultivators capable of riding the wind and soaring through the skies, traveling thousands of li in an instant, have never found an answer. So, they’ve simply given this vague and mysterious region a name: the Polar Lands.

The climate there, though, is truly extreme. It’s bitterly cold and harsh, with nothing able to grow. The skies are locked in a strange and magical pattern of eternal daylight or eternal night.

The shores of the Northern Sea lie in a land of endless daylight. Since the dawn of time, not a single night has fallen over that place.

When the group from the Mingxin Sword Sect entered the Polar Lands, it happened to be during the time of the strongest contrast between night and day at the edges of the region. In other words, just as the cultivators aboard the Cloud Tower Moon-Grasping Chariot felt the sky dimming and night beginning to fall, the light began to return. Before long, the whole world was bright once again.

This surreal scene left the younger disciples, many of whom had never been here before, completely stunned.

Thanks to Li Xun’s skillful adjustments, the Cloud Tower Moon-Grasping Chariot was pushed to its full potential. With primordial energy gathered from all directions, its speed climbed to an almost unimaginable level.

Of course, that doesn’t mean it was faster than a cultivator flying on their own. In reality, it was covering about three hundred thousand li a day, just a bit faster than a Void Infant-Transformation stage cultivator going full speed on a flying sword.

But because of its sheer size, the drag it created was tremendous. As the massive cloud chariot passed through the sky, it left behind a raging storm in its wake.

After entering the Polar Lands, the storms grew even more violent and terrifying. Two massive bands of icy wind, filled with airborne shards of ice, swept through the skies with a force stronger than most magical artifacts. Even the cloud chariot itself had to deploy a shimmering blue-green barrier to shield against the raging gales outside.

Everyone aboard had spent the past few days showering Li Xun’s creation with nonstop praise. This method of travel, while somewhat at odds with the sect’s guiding principle of “cultivating stillness and clarity to see one’s true nature,” was undeniably effective. A journey that normally took twenty days had been cut short by four.

Thanks to this breakthrough, Li Xun had firmly secured a new place for himself within the sect.

But he didn’t have time to bask in that success. As they neared their destination, the massive cloud chariot, racing at such high speeds, would need to slow down, fast. If it barreled into the Nightless City without braking, the resulting shockwave might level every structure within hundreds of li.

Li Xun stood beside the central palanquin, directing the gathered immortal masters and fellow disciples as they adjusted their qi connections. The 144 cloud platforms and spirit steps slowly shifted into new positions. Guided by the qi mechanism, countless streams of primordial energy erupted with deep, thunderous rumbles, releasing the immense power that had built up over their long journey.

Once the adjustment was complete, Li Xun’s brilliantly designed formation had fulfilled its purpose perfectly.

From that point forward, the Mingxin Sword Sect would officially include this formation in its records. And Li Xun’s name would be permanently inscribed in the sect’s archives as the one who created it.

The name of this formation had already been chosen for him by Qingming: A Single Stick of Incense.

Having been stirred by the ordeal of the "Mystic Cycle Subtle Hand" earlier, Li Xun found himself indifferent to the idea of leaving his mark on history. He understood clearly that, in the grand scheme of the sect, creating a formation and getting your name recorded wasn’t really something to be proud of.

If he had truly let himself become complacent at this point, it would’ve made a mockery of Qingming’s advice. And of all the trials and hardships he had endured over the past ten-plus years.

But the way he carried himself now didn’t go unnoticed. To the senior cultivators watching him, it earned him yet another mark of praise: unshaken by honor or disgrace. Their impression of him only deepened.

The cloud chariot had now slowed to a normal speed, but the overflowing primordial energy hadn’t yet dispersed. It gathered around the chariot in dense, churning waves, rubbing against itself and rumbling like thunder. Flashes of lightning occasionally lit the sky, practically announcing to every cultivator within a thousand li: Visitors are coming.

Li Xun confirmed the qi mechanism transitions had stabilized, then turned and bowed to Qingming to report.

Before Qingming could reply, he suddenly let out a soft “hmm?” At the same time, the more immortal masters nearby all turned to look toward the white, hazy horizon.

Just half a beat after their reaction, a burst of wild laughter rang out across the sky. It didn’t carry much actual threat or killing intent, but it came so abruptly, so unnaturally, as if it had sprung up from right in their midst, making it impossible to find where it had come from.

Naturally, the cultivators’ gazes were all drawn toward the void, but not a single person was in sight.

Which meant, in effect, they’d all just been outmaneuvered.

Qingming, as the head of the "Number One Sect of the East" and one of the universally acknowledged True One

experts in the Tongxuan Realm—on par with figures like Yin Wanderer San and Blood Wanderer—didn’t even blink at such a minor trick. It wasn’t worth his attention.

Once the laughter faded, a calm voice rose from within the chariot.

“Immortal Kun of the Eastern Sea," Qingming spoke slowly. "Your domain is warm and deep, bathed in sunlight. The Northern Sea, on the other hand, is bitterly cold. What brings a being like you to this frozen land, braving the Polar chill? Seems like a needless hardship.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly and far. The wind swept it through the high skies, and who knew how far it traveled.

Then the laughter returned, but this time its direction was unmistakable; it came from the north, though how far away was hard to say.

The laughter rolled in like a crashing wave, surging relentlessly. Each wave struck harder than the last, and when it slammed into the protective formation of the cloud chariot, it let out a booming clang. The entire vessel shook. This was evidence of the sheer force behind the sound waves.

Startled, Li Xun quickly shifted the positions of several spirit steps. The qi mechanism suddenly misaligned, causing millions of streams of primordial qi to collide with a loud bang. The cloud chariot came to an abrupt stop. Around them, air currents exploded into chaotic turbulence. The wind howled like ghosts wailing in the night, loud enough to muffle some of the laughter.

But none of this seemed to affect the speaker. As the laughter finally ceased, a rough, powerful voice rang out.

“Same to you, Daoist Qingming. Aren’t you the one who came all the way from the Lianxia Scenic Land just to freeze your bones in this place? If you’re ever in the mood, let’s have another fight. You had skill...and luck on your side four hundred years ago, thanks to Zhong Yin. But don’t expect to get that lucky again today.”

The mockery didn’t faze Qingming in the slightest. His voice was steady, completely unchanged:

“It’s rare to see you so spirited, Immortal Kun. That’s fine by me. In four hundred years, no one’s heard of you taking even half a step beyond the sea’s surface. And yet today you’ve suddenly taken up sightseeing. Makes me wonder if you’re itching for a kill. If so, I’ll be right here waiting.”

The voice didn’t return, just more laughter. Eventually, even that faded into the distance.

Qingxu stepped over, his expression grim and cold. “That’s the ancient demon from the Eastern Sea, the Kunpeng Demon! He’s been hiding in the deep ocean for years. What is he doing all the way out here?”

At the mention of the Kun demon, Li Xun’s eyes lit with sudden understanding. He finally realized who that powerful presence, equal in strength to Qingming, had to be.

One of the Seven Great Demons of the world, the ruler of the Eastern Sea: the Kunpeng King… had actually come here!

Legend said he was the transformation of an ancient mythical beast, the Kunpeng, with a body of unimaginable size and overwhelming demonic power. He called himself the “Demon King of Ocean Blue” and made his home in the Eastern Sea, which technically made him a neighbor of the Mingxin Sword Sect.

But over tens of thousands of years, these two “neighbors” had built up nothing but deep and bitter hatred. More than a dozen senior cultivators from the sect had died at his hands, while his own lairs had been destroyed time and again by the sect’s counterattacks; he’d barely escaped with his life more than once.

Back when Zhong Yin was at the height of his fame, he’d spent an entire century hunting this demon. Even though he drove the Kunpeng King into the heavens and into the earth, cornering him multiple times, the demon still managed to survive in the end. That alone showed how terrifying his cultivation was.

If the Mingxin Sword Sect’s feud with the Myohua Sect or the Demon Phoenix could still be described as complicated or awkward, then its hatred for the Kun demon… well, not even all the waters of the Three Rivers and Five Lakes could wash that blood clean.

Now that he’d shown up in the Northern Sea, it didn’t take much guessing to figure out why; he was clearly here to back the so-called “Alliance of Rogue Cultivators.” But this particular demon was known for his pride and arrogance, notorious for looking down on everyone. So why would someone like him come here just to take orders from a figure like Jade Wanderer?

Behind the veil of cloudlight, Qingming had fallen silent. No one knew what he was thinking. And no one dared to ask.