That mass of gray mist gave off an exceedingly unpleasant feeling, like an elderly man on the verge of death—frail, aged, with little life remaining.
Xia Ningshang had formed something akin to a symbiotic relationship with it. How could her eventual fate possibly end well?
Yang Kai's expression was somber.
Though he desperately wanted to rid his Junior Sister of this looming threat, before he could ascertain the true nature of the gray mist, he had no way to even begin.
Moreover, he had faintly sensed something inexplicably wondrous within the gray mist—something he could neither articulate nor define. The moment Yang Kai probed deeper, a sudden flash of understanding surfaced in his mind.
But when he examined it again more carefully, there was nothing to be found.
It seemed to actively reject his Divine Sense.
Xia Ningshang had been able to break through to the Saint King Realm in a place like the Tongxuan Continent—this almost certainly had something to do with that eerie gray mist.
It had granted her the opportunity to comprehend the Heavenly Dao and Martial Dao at deeper levels, provided her with the abundant spiritual energy needed to break through and advance, yet it was inextricably bound to her.
Whether this was fortune or calamity, no one could say for certain.
Just as Yang Kai was at his wit's end, the gray mist—bound within the golden net—went berserk once more. This time, instead of wasting its efforts as before, it simply detonated, splitting into countless finer wisps of gray mist that threaded through the gaps in the golden net.
Before Yang Kai could react, the mass of gray mist had already escaped.
It then plummeted downward at tremendous speed. The instant it touched the ground, it vanished from his sight.
Yang Kai's Divine Sense pursued it immediately, yet he could no longer sense its presence.
It had simply disappeared.
Standing in place, Yang Kai wore a grave expression, his brow deeply furrowed.
It seemed he would have to wait for his Junior Sister to wake on her own before he could get answers from her.
He had some suspicions, but dared not confirm them.
Gazing at the sleeping Xia Ningshang, Yang Kai scooped her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, tenderly brushing the strands of hair from her face. Then he left the secret chamber.
Moments later, a thousand miles away, at the ruins of the War Spirit Hall.
Yang Kai stood suspended in the void, gazing down below. His Divine Sense spread outward like a tide.
Familiar traces of life appeared one after another under his scrutiny, each one like a leaping musical note imprinted upon his sea of consciousness, composing a moving symphony.
He broke into a broad grin. A warmth he had not felt in decades filled his heart. Through his Divine Sense, he sent a message to every friend and loved one—he had returned!
Just like the Nine Heavens Holy Land of yore.
The ruins of the War Spirit Hall erupted into commotion instantly. Streaks of light shot skyward from their meditation spots, all converging toward Yang Kai's position.
Everyone was overwhelmed with excitement. Those who crossed paths along the way eagerly exchanged news, confirming whether it was truly Yang Kai who had come back.
Once they arrived and saw Yang Kai standing there, only then did they dare believe the news was real.
Tu Feng, Tang Yuxian, Qu Gaoyi, Ying Jiu—the Blood Guards who had fought alongside Yang Kai during the Succession War were the first to arrive. Each of them trembled with emotion, crying out "Young Master" and dropping to their knees in deep bows.
Yang Wei, the eldest of the Yang brothers; Yang Zhao, the second; Yang Tie, the third; Yang Kang, the fourth—all the brothers gathered together. They rushed over with loud shouts, pulling Yang Kai into fierce embraces and pouring out decades' worth of longing.
"Haha, you bastard! You've been gone for all these years—I've missed you to death!" Huo Xingchen, current patriarch of the Huo family, appeared at the side with hearty laughter.
After decades apart, this once-dashing Zhongdu wolf had grown into middle age. Yet the passage of time had not made him look old. Instead, it had lent him a weathered maturity, and combined with his irreverent charm, it made him all the more captivating.
Beside Huo Xingchen stood Qiu Yimeng, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears. She bit her red lip softly, staring at Yang Kai in disbelief, afraid to speak—as though a single word from her might shatter this dream.
"Brother Huo! Miss Qiu!" Yang Kai gave them a slight nod, his expression calm.
Huo Xingchen chuckled, glancing sideways at Qiu Yimeng with a quiet sigh.
He could read something in the way Yang Kai had addressed her.
Dong Qinghan and Dong Qingyan had arrived as well, calling out "cousin" back and forth, making the atmosphere all the more lively.
Yang Kai's gaze suddenly shifted to a point not far away, fixing on three streaks of light rapidly approaching. He immediately strode forward to meet them.
The lights descended, revealing three figures.
The one in front carried an otherworldly, immortal bearing, his robes billowing in the wind. Behind him trailed a man and a woman—the man broad and imposing, the woman petite and delicate.
Yang Kai stood before them and bowed deeply, speaking softly: "Grandmaster!"