Chen Wuya stood at the edge of the trench, the red mark in his right palm still pulsing. That bronze door lay deep beneath the sea, its patterns flashing on and off as though responding to his breath.
Wind blew up from the fissure, carrying dampness and the scent of salt.
He stared at the door, his fingers tightening slightly. The battle just now had drained much of his strength, yet the Misaligned Force within him was more active than ever, washing back and forth through his meridians like the tides. He could sense something approaching—not an enemy, but a more ancient presence.
The ground beneath his feet trembled again.
This tremor was faint and lasted only an instant. Then ripples spread across the distant sea, and someone came walking over the waves.
The man wore gray-white robes. There was no boat beneath his feet, nor anything for him to brace against; he simply walked across the water step by step. With every step, a ring spread over the surface, so quiet it hardly seemed real.
Chen Wuya did not move.
The newcomer reached the shore and stopped five paces away from him. He was a lean-faced middle-aged man with calm eyes, holding a book scroll that glowed with a dim blue light.
"You quelled the chaos caused by the sea beasts," the man said. His voice was not loud, yet every word reached Chen Wuya's ears clearly. "And you made the summoner sink to the bottom of the sea."
Chen Wuya nodded. "He should not have touched this island."
"Nor should you have entered it." The island master looked at him, his gaze falling upon the red mark in his palm. "But this mark resonates with the door. That means the will left behind by the first island master