Rakan and Xayah Soar Together

Jia Ruo and Neeko joined Rakan and Xayah's party.

After continuing westward for three more days, they reached the seaside.

The legendary anomalous island was said to be on the other side.

On the shore, there was a small boat dock, housing three to four boatmen who made a living ferrying people across the sea.

Upon hearing that Jia Ruo and his group were here to resolve the anomaly on the island, a flicker of life finally appeared on their weathered, wrinkled faces.

Although their days of ferrying were difficult—facing the sun and wind with meager income.

These boatmen could at least sustain themselves.

But when the anomaly appeared on the island opposite—trees gradually withered and turned pale, the earth was no longer warm, and even ordinary people could sense an ominous aura.

As a result, the ordinary islanders living on the island had all moved away half a month ago.

These few boatmen, except for a brief period of great profit when the islanders relocated, had no more business.

These people, who had relied on ferrying for generations, were truly at their wit's end.

"Brave warriors, that island is indeed very strange. Everyone has fled from it."

A boatman, who appeared to be the eldest, removed his pipe from his mouth and continued, "If you need to cross the sea, this old man can help."

The future finally held a glimmer of hope, and he placed all his aspirations on the four people before him.

Whether human or Vastaya, anyone who could drive away the ill omen would be a great benefactor.

"Uncle, then we'll trouble you."

Jia Ruo cupped his fists in greeting, and the four of them boarded the old boatman's vessel.

Although the old boatman was a professional ferryman, at Jia Ruo and Rakan's request, he still handed the wooden oars to them.

Jia Ruo and Rakan rowed the small boat with great speed.

The old boatman was astonished. These two young men had such strength. It seemed their words were not false; perhaps they truly possessed the ability to resolve the ill omen.

What should have been a two-hour journey was completed in less than an hour, and they landed at a small pier on the island.

"Brave warriors, this old man will wait for you here."

"Uncle, if we're not back by nightfall, you can head back first."

Xayah flicked her dark purple Feather Robe and said.

"Then, in that case, I'll come back tomorrow to continue waiting."

The old boatman understood the meaning behind Xayah's words: they might be delayed, they might encounter danger, or they might... not return.

Meanwhile, in the original small dock, a middle-aged man wearing a Green Sword walked in.

He smiled, "Boatman, I need to go to the other side."

Jia Ruo and his group ventured towards the depths of the island.

The further they went, the more they could feel the heavy deathly aura of the place.

"So pitiful."

Neeko stroked a large tree that had lost all its leaves.

Everything around them was like a scene from her dreams—the land had lost its color.

They quickened their pace.

In a dark, withered forest filled with the aura of Shadow Magic, Jia Ruo, Neeko, Rakan, and Xayah saw a building within the woods.

The building resembled an ancient temple, now completely entwined by withered vines, with a dark red light seeping through the gaps in the vines.

A ninja, dressed in a black tight-fitting suit, wearing a hood, and with a dark red mask covering his face, seemed to be patrolling as he walked towards their hiding spot.

"Hoo~"

It was Rakan who softly whistled.

The ninja looked over alertly.

At the same time, a purple feather blade embedded itself in his chest.

Rakan then slid out, embraced the ninja's corpse, and twirled him around by the hand, like a waltz celebrating death.

Xayah, who had delivered the fatal blow, slowly emerged, while Jia Ruo and Neeko hurried to Rakan's side—or rather, beside the corpse.

"His Shuoma hasn't dissipated yet," Neeko said. "I want to try and investigate his Shuoma."

If the Shuoma of a living person was like an old turtle lurking in the mud, then the Shuoma of someone who had just passed was like a school of startled fish scattering.

To catch them, Neeko would need to spend a lot of time and energy.

Xayah and Rakan, however, looked around. In the shadows of the withered forest, figures were gradually coalescing.

They were dressed in the same attire as the one who had just died.

Without a word, Xayah and Rakan charged forward in perfect sync.

Jia Ruo drew You Meng and stood guard beside Neeko.

Rakan took the lead, closing in on the ninjas, agilely kicking them away, tossing them up, or knocking them down.

Meanwhile, Xayah used her feather blades to precisely harvest the ninjas' lives.

Grand entrance!

Rakan swept up the last five or six ninjas, suspending them in mid-air.

Xayah waved her hand, and an equal number of feather blades pierced through the ninjas.

Glaive Rush!

The feather blades transformed into streaks of purple light, folding back in the air, passing through the ninjas once more before returning to Xayah's hands.

Accompanied by falling corpses, Rakan landed with a flourish.

He placed his left hand on his chest and held up the golden Feather Garment with his right, bowing slightly.

Beside him, Jia Ruo seemed to be admiring a magnificent performance.

Fluid and natural.

He praised their combat skills in his heart.

Xayah rolled her eyes at Rakan, a smile playing on her lips: Where exactly did this flamboyant man deeply attract her? Xayah couldn't say.

More ninjas swarmed in. These weaklings didn't rouse Xayah's fighting spirit: Let Rakan handle them alone.

She chose to walk into the gloomy building.

The eerie red light emanating from within must be hiding a secret.

Rakan stretched, as if he had only just warmed up.

Then, he twisted and charged towards the surging ninjas.

Jia Ruo, by Neeko's side, used You Meng to kill the attacking ninjas.

He remembered the Sword Saint's teachings: Even the sharpest sword cannot match a calm heart.

To protect this land and Neeko beside him, Jia Ruo's sword strikes were decisive and swift.

He had already touched the Infinite.

At this moment, Neeko also deciphered the ninjas' somewhat incomplete memories from the gradually dissipating Shuoma.

This ninja had been deeply influenced by the radical faction of Ionia since childhood.

The concept of channeling all of Ionia's power into martial force was branded into his heart.

As a youth back then, he took the initiative to join a sect called the Shadow Order.

Over five to six years, he only managed to grasp the superficial aspects of Shadow Magic.

Though somewhat disheartened, he didn't feel inferior—most disciples were the same.

Geniuses were, after all, a minority.

That most favored disciple, who wielded a Sinister Scythe as his weapon, could only be a role model he aspired to.

On that day, the sect leader, Master Zed, summoned a group of ordinary disciples.

He was among them.

Master Zed led them to this island.

Then, Master Zed entered an ancient temple alone, instructing the others to stand guard around the perimeter.

He didn't know what Master Zed was doing inside, but a stifling red light gradually emanated from the temple. The surrounding natural magic seemed to be drawn into the temple, and then, it felt suppressed by something.

Later, the plants on this land began to wither, and life began to fade.

However, the fluctuations of shadow energy started to become active.

He could feel it.

The shadow energy within him, which hadn't advanced for a long time, actually showed signs of growth.

This must be a gift from Master Zed to them, the ordinary disciples!

Neeko broke away from the Ninja Shuoma and pointed at the temple, saying to Jia Ruo, "They come from a sect called the Shadow Order, and their leader is Master Zed. He's inside now."

"Rakan! Hurry inside and find Xayah! We'll handle things here, go quickly!" Jia Ruo exclaimed.