Standing beside the Patriarch of the Song Family Clan were three figures draped in pale veils, their auras warped and indistinct. The elders avoided looking at them directly. Even breathing too loudly in their presence felt dangerous.

Just as Patriarch Song Zhenyuan opened his mouth to speak—

The tent flaps burst open.

A man staggered inside, blood staining his robes, his aura unstable and fraying. He barely managed to remain standing.

A Heavenly Realm cultivator.

One of their two.

The tent erupted.

"You’re injured?!"

"What happened at the Patriarch’s rear?!"

"Why are you injured?!"

The man’s eyes burned with fury as he swept his gaze across the tent.

"Where is General Haiyan?" he demanded. "Answer me!"

Silence answered him.

Patriarch Song Zhenyuan’s expression darkened. "He has not returned."

The Heavenly Realm cultivator’s face twisted. "Not returned?" His voice rose. "That’s impossible. His task was simple. While I engaged the Li Patriarch and his children, Haiyan was to break Li Huxin’s camp with the beast horde and turn their front into a slaughterhouse."

He slammed his fist into a nearby table.

"I succeeded," he snarled. "I dragged the Li Patriarch into a prolonged battle. Their strongest forces were tied down. Their flank was wide open."

His eyes burned with disbelief.

"And yet the war isn’t over?"

No one answered.

"I’m sure we’ll get the answers we need once General Haiyan returns," one Elder said.

The Heavenly Realm cultivator, Song Kuanglie, clenched his fists. Rage boiled beneath his skin, but he forced it down. Throwing a tantrum now would accomplish nothing.

"Kuanglie," Patriarch Song Zhenyuan said evenly, gesturing toward an empty seat. "Sit. Tell us what happened."

Every elder leaned forward.

Even without Heavenly Realm cultivators, the Li Clan should not have been capable of pushing Song Kuanglie to such a state. Their Patriarch, even with his children at his side, should have possessed no more than ten Divine Realm cultivators. Even twenty should not have been enough.

Yet Kuanglie stood before them—severly injured.

At the question, his composure cracked.

"It wasn’t the Patriarch," Kuanglie snarled.

The air suddenly grew heavy.

Oppressive Might uncontrollably surged outward like a tidal wave. Several elders staggered back; a few collapsed outright, consciousness torn from them. Even the smallest of the three mysteriously veiled figures beside Song Zhenyuan stumbled.

Zhenyuan’s eyes sharpened.

His own aura flared.

The pressure vanished.

"Control yourself," the Patriarch said coldly. "And explain."

Kuanglie’s eyes burned.

"It was that girl."

Silence.

"...A girl?" an elder repeated uncertainly.

Kuanglie raised his hand, and Qi condensed into a lifelike projection. A young woman appeared in the air—her figure vivid yet strangely elusive, as though she existed just beyond reach. She felt present, and yet unreal, like the fading image of someone glimpsed only once in a dream you could never quite remember.

Murmurs erupted.

"That’s—"

"Who is she?"

"Why is she not in our records?"

Song Zhenyuan’s expression darkened. He turned sharply toward the intelligence division clustered near the back of the tent.

"Explain."

The agents exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, one stepped forward.

"She is the Li Clan Patriarch’s second-youngest daughter. Currently affiliated with the Black Paradise Sect." He hesitated. "But... information on her is limited."

"Her name," Zhenyuan pressed.

"...Li Qin."

Before the name could settle, the tent flaps were torn aside.

A man rushed in and dropped to his knees, trembling.

"A report from Li Huxin’s camp," the spy said hoarsely.

Every gaze snapped to him.

"Speak," Zhenyuan commanded.

"Where is Song Haiyan?" Kuanglie demanded, stepping forward.

The spy blinked, confused. "General Haiyan? He hasn’t returned?"

Kuanglie’s hand shot out, grabbing the man by the robes and hauling him upright.

"If he had, I wouldn’t be asking," Kuanglie growled. "Now talk."

"He... I saw he was defeated in battle, but his injuries weren’t excessive. He should have already returned... unless he—"

Song Kuanglie’s eye became even more furious, so the spy frantically activated his Demon Eye.

Light spilled across the tent as an image formed.

Li Huxin’s camp—abandoned.

The beast horde—charging.

And then—

One figure stood alone.

A young woman.

The one of the three veiled figures nearest Song Zhenyuan stiffened.

"...Li Lian," she said under her breath.

Gasps rippled through the pavilion as the recording continued.

"She’s insane..."

"Is she trying to die?"

"I recognize her. That’s Li Lian—Matriarch Shi Lan’s disciple."

"Since when did the Matriarch of the Black Paradise Sect accept a disciple?"

The image shifted.

Flames erupted.

A dragon’s roar thundered through the recording.

"That’s—"

"Dragon Perception."

"At her age?!"

The image became distorted, but everyone watching could still roughly make out what was happening. Li Lian was singlehandedly holding them back.

As Li Lian tore into the horde alone, silence swallowed the room. Beast after beast fell.

Eventually Song Haiyan joined the attack, but the last thing they saw was Li Huxin block his attack before the demon eye was destroyed by the shockwave.

"What happened next!?" Kuanglie demanded.

The spy continued to explain what he saw with his own eyes.

"Song Haiyan was attacked by Li Huxin and his children. He was pushed back, and forced to flee."

"How can that be?"

They all wondered.

According to their intelligence, besides Li Huxin, only his eldest son was a Divine realm cultivator. Li Lian was on her last leg, so she couldn’t have been the one to push him back.

Just as the pavilion struggled to digest what they had heard and seen, one of the veiled figures beside Patriarch Song Zhenyuan finally spoke.

"Who was stationed in that tent?" he pointed.

The question seemed trivial. Several elders frowned, confused by the sudden focus on such a minor detail. Yet Song Zhenyuan’s expression shifted at once—he had sensed the weight behind it.

The spy hesitated, searching his memory. "That tent... it belonged to one of their newer captains," he said slowly.

"A new Captain?"

"Does Li Huxin have a secret son?

"Perhaps it was someone appointed by their Patriarch."

The Elders murmured amongst themselves.

"Do you know the new Captain’s name?" Patriarch Zhenyuan asked.

"Mn, his name is—"

He stopped as he tried to recall.

The tent fell deathly silent as they waited.

"Captain... Xiao Fang."