At the end of the River of Worlds, the station known as "Shattered Star" floated above the turbid waves like a gigantic, rusted skull.
There was no sunlight here.
The light came from the collapsing stellar wreckage all around, ghastly pale and icy cold.
When Chu Qing stepped onto the station's deck, stained with grease and dried blood, the air around him visibly froze for an instant.
Several thousand Heavenly Prides and refugees from all worlds stopped what they were doing.
No one spoke.
Only the wind from the River of Worlds swept across the tattered banners, making them snap and flutter.
There was no perfume on these people, only the stench of those who had spent years walking the edge between life and death.
They stared at Chu Qing, their stiff necks turning like a flock of vultures that had scented fresh flesh, yet dared not sink their beaks in because of some instinct.
"Move."
Chu Qing did not slow his steps. His voice was not loud, yet it was particularly piercing on the deathly silent deck.
A group of people blocked the path directly ahead.
The young man at their head wore robes white as snow and carried a Sword Box on his back. Such excessively clean attire looked utterly out of place here.
He looked Chu Qing up and down, a mocking curve at the corner of his lips as his fingers lightly flicked the sword sheath.
"Carrying a broken spear and dragging your whole family along."
The young man sneered, his gaze sweeping brazenly over the women behind Chu Qing. "Brother, this is Shattered Star Station, not a refugee shelter."
"Are you some laborer fleeing disaster?"
Several muffled chuckles rose from the crowd.
"That's a Sword Attendant from White Jade Capital. I heard he's the watchdog