The night wind was a bloody scythe, gory and humid, an ambassador of death that swept through every corner of the city. In the darkness, that ambassador of death moved relentlessly forward, merging with the shadows, then dispersing, foreboding to the extreme as it sought to bring all to despair.

Until... its relentless progress into alleys of the city caused it to run into a person standing in the shadows.

This person wore a gray robe, and seemed like someone that blades or needles couldn’t harm. And he emitted a frigid energy that seemed to block off the light of the stars. It was suffocating.

When the wind hit him, it was like when cold rivers ran into the sea, or when a pack of jackals encountered the king of all wolves. The wind stopped, and everything went quiet. The person in gray looked over his shoulder, and his eyes were as cold as a deep pool of black water. The wind laughed. It had found something to believe in. A comrade. Hefting its scythe of death, it blew past the figure in gray, stirring his long hair and robe.

The wind’s stronger than usual tonight. Xu Qing turned to look through the darkness toward a building. To him, the building was like a coffin looming in the night. It was the home of the young merman. Because he wasn’t an ordinary disciple from the Seventh...