Time Until First Rift Appears: 2 Years, 0 Months, 8 Days.

  Snow crunched softly beneath nimble feet as Rin darted between frost-coated pines, his breath barely visible in the icy air. Linhua followed close behind, her rope dart coiled loosely at her hip. Goruo, the largest of the three, carried a worn satchel bulging suspiciously. They moved like whispers through the frozen forest, eyes alight with shared purpose.

  “Are you sure about this?” Linhua whispered, adjusting her scarf against the biting wind. “Last time, we almost got caught.”

  “That was your fault,” Rin shot back, crouching behind a snow-covered log.

  Linhua hmphed indignantly. “How was I supposed to know that Master Ryuha was making an appearance that day? It’s not like I could not go see him,” she said with the conviction of a proud mother bragging about her prodigious child.

  Rin glanced at her and noticed the familiar splotches of red blossoming across the bridge of her nose. He shivered, recognizing the dangerous glint in her eyes. Best to cut her off before she launched into another poetic ode about the young master’s unparalleled magnificence.

  “And in doing so, we lost our lookout—which led to me and Goruo being caught red-handed,” Rin said pointedly.

  A deep rumbling voice echoed beside him.

  “Literally,” Goruo added with a wide grin.

  Rin rolled his eyes. Yes, they were caught red-handed... literally.

  For some reason that had seemed perfectly logical at the time, they’d decided it was a good idea to dye their hands crimson with alchemical pigment stolen from the sect’s apothecary—a very permanent concoction meant for ceremonial banners, not skin.

  Rin grimaced at the memory. “You said it would wash off,” he muttered, glaring at Goruo.

  “How was I supposed to know ‘Crimson Emperor’s Blessing’ meant forever stained?” Goruo shrugged, utterly unapologetic.

  Linhua, lounging lazily behind a moss-covered boulder, smirked. “You also said no one would notice if we painted the elder’s meditation shrine... until the entire courtyard reeked of spirit-ink.”

  Rin crossed his arms. “Technically, the wind shifted. Not our fault.”

  “Oh really?” Linhua tapped her chin theatrically. “And was it the wind that spelled out ‘Great Elder Frostnose’ on the shrine’s sacred wall in glowing red script?”

  Goruo snickered. “We did get the calligraphy right.”

  Rin nodded and smiled.

  Although the three of them did not see each other as much with their training and cliff warden duties they did try to meet up when their schedules allowed which usually meant doing something which led either to the Penal hall or worse directly to Master Lu Ri Sr... and this time is no different.

  Crouching lower behind the log,"Now do you have it" Rin whispered conspiratorially to Goruo, he has gotten bigger again the thought suddenly came to him as he eyed Goruo's massive frame, Rin wasn't sure what type of training he was doing but the big guy seems to be getting bigger each time he sees him if that was even possible.

  Although all of them have gone through lots of changes since passing the Warden trials years ago the one that has seen the biggest change was Goruo with him already towering over most back then now he was starting to tower over most adults and he was still growing while Linhua has now instead of a short cut of hair started growing it out but it did not change the vulpine look to her face.

  Unaware of Rin's thought Goruo answered "Of course I got it had to ask one of the cooks to get it for me in exchange for a rare white stag"

  Rin arched a brow. “*You traded a rare white stag... for this?” He gestured vaguely toward the worn satchel Goruo was clutching like it contained treasure instead of... whatever it was.

  Goruo shrugged, a slow, confident motion that made his already broad shoulders seem mountainous. “Cook said it was the only way to get the really old stuff.”

  Linhua snickered. “Please tell me it’s the sticky rice from the last Harvest Feast. The one that even beasts refused to eat.”

  Goruo’s grin widened as he tugged the satchel open just enough for them to peek inside. A pungent, sour odor wafted out, making Rin recoil instantly.

  “By the heavens—what is that?” Rin hissed, waving his hand in front of his nose.

  “Fermented spirit cabbage,” Goruo announced proudly. “Aged... very improperly.”

  Linhua doubled over with laughter, clutching her sides. “You absolute madman! That stuff smells like a corpse soaked in vinegar.”

  “That’s the point,” Goruo said with the air of a master tactician unveiling a flawless strategy. “One whiff, and the target will beg for mercy.”

  Rin pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing a smile. “Please tell me we’re not targeting the training grounds again. We just got off punishment duty.”

  Goruo shook his head. “Bigger.”

  “Who?” Linhua’s eyes gleamed with barely contained mischief.

  Goruo’s grin turned downright wicked. “Sect Treasurer Hu.”

  Silence.

  Linhua gasped, nearly choking on her laughter. “The stingiest old miser in the entire sect?”

  Rin frowned thoughtfully. He’d never met Treasurer Hu personally, but stories about the man’s ruthless obsession with sect funds were practically legend. Supposedly, Hu could calculate spiritual debts faster than most cultivators could gather qi, and even thought in silver taels.

  “He sounds like a real piece of work,” Rin said cautiously.

  “He fines everyone,” Linhua added, still giggling. “He even charged a spirit beast for trampling a herb bed.”

  Goruo shrugged. “We’re just... balancing the cosmic scales.”

  Rin hesitated. They were definitely going to get into trouble for this—but the mental image of the cold, calculating Treasurer Hu being driven to madness by an untraceable stink bomb was far too tempting.

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  “Alright,” Rin said slowly, his lips curving into a dangerous smirk. “Let’s make him think he’s cursed.”

  The three exchanged looks, unified in mischief. This wasn’t just a prank—it was poetic justice.

  And perhaps, just perhaps... a little payback on behalf of everyone in the sect.

  With the three set out on their mission unaware that this would be the last time they would be able to enjoy such peace...mischief not included.

  High on top of one of the mountain spires that stretched across the range where the Frozen Edge Sect called home, a young boy toiled in the frost and snow, following a diagram etched on a scroll. He had received it from another boy—one whom he later discovered, through the questioning remarks of the wardens, was the cause of the Frostwyrm incident.

  The boy in question was none other than Jiyan, the one he had met during the Warden Trials. From what he had seen and heard from his own master, there was still a notable bounty on Jiyan’s head.

  Of course, no one had been able to find the boy—it was as if he had never existed in the first place. The Penal Hall Master had questioned everyone that day, even Kaidan himself, but the unrestrained animosity she emitted told him that everyone’s story was pretty much the same.

  Although they had seen or greeted the so-called Jiyan, no one could say which family he was from or what his true purpose was, other than causing chaos and death.

  Kaidan snorted as he recalled the fervor with which the Penal Hall Master recounted Jiyan’s so-called sins.

  Why was everyone so worked up? I mean, it was just two young cultivators and a mortal.

  A grimace overshadowed Kaidan’s features when he thought of the mortal, Rin. Kaidan wasn’t sure why he felt the way he did toward the boy—Rin was just a mortal. Although he was quite smart, Kaidan had later heard that he wasn’t anything special. If the sect’s rumor mill was to be believed, Rin couldn’t even cultivate.

  So why did Kaidan hate him so much? In all honesty, he couldn’t think of a reason—other than that every time he looked at Rin, an uncontrollable surge of anger and hatred overcame him. It was as if Kaidan’s body had a visceral reaction to the boy, usually leading to outbursts, like the one he had so amateurishly displayed in the Medicinal Hall.

  A lot of people thought it was jealousy—that he resented Rin for overcoming the Frostfang Wyrm—but Kaidan couldn’t care less. And yet…

  His thoughts drifted off as he looked back down at the archaic diagram he had painstakingly etched into the snow and hard granite of the mountain.

  Kaidan blew a breath out of his nose, which immediately turned into white vapor in the cold. He understood that he was taking a gamble by following the diagram, but he couldn’t deny that he was excited. This was exactly what his master had been searching for all those years—a way to traverse the cold void beyond their planet’s sky.

  Of course, many had called him a madman, as everyone knew that the void would suck the life right out of you, no matter the stage of cultivation.

  Although many doubted him, the old man had trudged forth on his quest. Kaidan never knew why his master was such a fervent believer that there was a way. He would always shake his head when Kaidan asked, replying,

  “My dear disciple, do you really believe we are the only ones here? Just look above at those stars—there must be millions and millions of planets. There has to be a way!!”

  Afterward, he would take out a scroll with odd depictions—the very same scroll Kaidan now possessed. The only difference was the quality of the depictions. To say that Kaidan was surprised to see it was an understatement, but he hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

  After all, although his master was considered a raving lunatic by many, he was, without a doubt, the greatest prodigy Kaidan had ever seen when it came to cultivation. He dwarfed even the so-called prodigy of the Frozen Edge Sect.

  Another grimace shadowed Kaidan’s features, but this time, instead of anger, it was sadness. His master had simply vanished one day—no goodbyes, just gone, as if he had disappeared into thin air. Maybe in the same way Jiyan had. And just like Jiyan, his master had left him with one final order:

  Go to the Frozen Edge Sect as soon as possible.

  Kaidan didn’t know how or why his master had ordered him to come to this sect, but looking back at the diagram, he started to think he knew. Of course, this could all be mere coincidence… which he definitely did not believe to be the case.

  And so, returning his focus to the diagram, he completed it. Three circular rings stretched from larger to smaller, each nested within the other, with bisecting lines running both horizontally and vertically.

  Interspersed between them were letters from a language he had never seen before. Brushing away a loose strand of silver hair that had fallen from his topknot, he surveyed his handiwork. After comparing it one last time to the scroll, ensuring there were no differences, he nodded and took out three large Qi crystals—all of which he had received during the Warden Trials.

  And to think I almost didn’t want to participate in that farce… if it wasn’t for the Elder.

  It was quite the surprise to see that the diagram specifically required a massive amount of Qi to function. And as if decreed by the heavens, Kaidan just so happened to have it.

  Although he would have liked to complete this sooner, gathering the other materials needed for the diagram had been much harder—especially the True Lord Ice Tiger. It had taken both him and his so-called new master (the Elder) to find and subdue one.

  All Kaidan had to do to persuade his master was to tell him that he would finally be stepping into the Qi Foundation Realm. His master simply couldn’t comprehend why he was still at the Ninth Stage of the Body Refinement Realm. That, too, was a stipulation in the scroll—an odd one, to say the least—but Kaidan had followed it nonetheless.

  After placing the Qi crystals in position, the only item left was the amulet.

  Taking it out of his robe and glancing down at it, he placed it at the center of the three rings. For the final touch, he poured a little of his Qi into it, causing it to light up in a dark blue hue. This, of course, did not surprise Kaidan—he had long experimented with the amulet. What did surprise him, however, was what happened to the diagram the moment he placed it down.

  It immediately lit up with the same dark blue coloration, growing brighter and brighter as it latched onto the Qi crystals, making them hover. As the crystals began to dim, the diagram only grew in intensity.

  Just as Kaidan thought it would blind him with its brightness, something unbelievable happened—strands of Qi, visible to the naked eye, began snaking upward like worms after a storm, all converging toward the amulet at the diagram’s center. Once the strands made contact, the amulet began glowing as well.

  The blemished surface started cracking and chipping away as more Qi surged into it. Kaidan stared wide-eyed as the amulet he had carried for so long transformed—from an embellished silver disk into a crystalline amulet with a distinct motif of a viper striking with its fangs. Its glow intensified as it absorbed more Qi.

  Kaidan glanced toward the Qi crystals, astonished to see them beginning to crumble from the drain. It wouldn’t be long now, he thought. And he was right. Within moments, the crystals had been completely drained, crumbling into dust. But the diagram kept pulling in the ambient Qi from his surroundings, causing the crystalline amulet—now more of a medallion—to grow even more distinct.

  Then, a sudden rush of Qi—followed by a pop—and the light show ended unceremoniously.

  Confused by the abrupt turn of events, Kaidan waited for the dark splotches clouding his vision to clear. It only took moments. He looked toward where the crystalline medallion had been… but to his astonishment, it was gone. Panic bubbled in his chest as he ran toward the diagram’s center, mumbling,

  “No, no, no, NO!!”

  The last came out as a guttural shout. He didn’t understand—he had followed the scroll’s instructions exactly. So why? Why had this happened? But just as he was about to punch a hole through the mountain in frustration, a sudden blue box appeared before him—just like the one from the day of the meteor shower.

  And the person on the other side made him smile.

  “Well, well, young Kaidan. This is quite the surprise,” the boy—no, the man—said.

  Although he looked slightly different, Kaidan was certain. The person before him was the very same boy he had met during the Frost Warden Trials.

  It was Jiyan.

  Not many sensed the ripple of Qi that was resounding across the the planet but what the did notice was a message in a blue hovering in front of their eyes.

  Time Until First Rift Appears: 0 Years, 0 Months, 0 Days.

  The Colossus comes.