Returning Light and Ebbing Tide

True Lord lowered his gaze, his eyes sweeping over the desolate mountains below.

His gaze lingered on the Blood Crow for an instant.

Yet it seemed placid as still water, without killing intent or anger, without even much scrutiny—merely as though he were looking at a grain of sand about to be swallowed by the sea.

Then his gaze shifted, falling upon the empty air beside him. Seven moon-wheels the size of fists slowly emerged around him, circling endlessly.

Each of the seven little moons waxed and waned differently. Some were full as jade discs, some slender as silver hooks, some dim as dust-covered pearls, some bright as freshly tempered sword edges.

Every little moon was linked to a strand of destiny, reflecting an important inheritor connected to his Dao lineage. Their light illuminated fate; their waxing and waning reflected the Dao.

At this moment, two of them—one once bright as day, reflecting the Dao rhythm of "Daydream," and one once deep as an abyss, concealing the mysteries of "Floating Life Dream"—

were dimming at a visible rate. Their radiance turned from silver-white to ash-white, from ash-white to corpse-white, until, with a soft pop, like a candle flame snuffed by the wind, they went completely dark.

Of the seven little moons, two had darkened.

True Lord's gaze did not ripple in the slightest, as if the deaths of two True Persons were no more than two captured pieces on a chessboard.

He merely shook his head faintly, seemingly speaking to himself.

"Only three breaths?"

His voice was exceedingly soft, yet it weighed down the Mountains and Rivers for three thousand li below. The Heavenly Net shrouded this stretch of heaven and earth; within its meshes, spiritual energy congealed like glue and time thickened like honey.

Within three breaths, the various