DEATH'S DANCE OF CASCADING PURPLE AND GLEAMING BLACKSTEEL

Even Xiao Wu couldn't estimate the true scale of the assailants' rank. Thousands? Perhaps tens or hundreds of?

Yet, each and every one of them was soaring thousands of feet off the ground like it was nothing, threatening to climb up the steep precipice in the following moments.

The path up wasn't easy, however, as all kinds of radiant attacks rained down from atop the precipice, nonstop. The assailants fell like flies under the unbearable assault.

And then, even as it took their everything to get halfway up and break through the swarm of attacks, they were met with an insurmountable wall.

An elegant figure, one whose features Xiao Wu couldn't quite make out from this far away. Familiar yet foreign, the existence lorded over the battlefield like a warring deity, showing no signs of faltering even as more and more impressive challengers fought their way up.

His unforgiving pair of darker-than-night blades was the harbinger of demise, and the untouchable warlord wielding them with refined perfection, death.

Trudging through a rain of fire and steel, only to be faced with the black blades of death. It was only a matter of time before deserters began breaking ranks, and fleeing.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands, until all had scattered. The sword dance so came to a grandiose end, worth being glorified in the annals of history.

Victoriously looming over the battlefield, one man donning royal garbs black, white, and purple, with but a touch of emerald green, waved his hand and dispelled the black blades. Somberly, he seemed to be taking in the aftermath of his massacre.

In that silence, his long, purple hair fluttered in the wind, unblemished by blood.

...

With the startling threat taken care of, Xiao Wu had finally calmed down enough to take in her immediate surroundings.

What she had once thought a mere precipice, she now realized was a garrison. There were watchtowers and people still rushing about, occasionally arranging themselves into ranks before gliding onto the aerial battlefield to clean the battlefield.

Xiao Wu attempted to turn around for a better look, only to realize her field of vision was fixed. Until that moment when she tried to look behind her, she hadn't even noticed, so wide and all-encompassing it had been all this while.

She finally took notice of how every colour felt indescribably vivid, every outline detailed and clear, and how her sight could satisfactorily discern even what was dozens of miles away.

So much information was being thrown at her that, were it not for the Brightfolk's innate qualities, she would have surely been overwhelmed in no time at all and collapsed.

With that, however, she had access to deceptively more information than she normally would. For example, even at what should be the corner of her field of view she could somewhat make out that she was wearing golden robes, engraved throughout with intricate patterns.

'Is that just gold, or actually... No, for it to be that much, it couldn't be-'

Before she could finish that thought, Xiao Wu felt her vision sharpen and focus. At once, she found herself staring straight at the faraway, purple-haired swordsman.

"!!!"

Though Xiao Wu had somewhat come to expect it, the confirmation was enough to send her mind reeling.

Meanwhile, as if he had somehow felt her gaze, the faraway cultivator turned to look back. He then bowed slightly before disappearing.

Xiao Wu, who was seeing through the eyes of the person standing on top of the garrison, suddenly heard someone approaching before she could recollect herself. The person whose memories she was experiencing turned around at that moment: the incoming figure was that of a young man, strands of purple hair reaching down to his waist like a waterfall, and donning black, white, and purple, garbs with but a few touches of emerald green.

Xiao Wu recognized the approaching youth to be the same cultivator that had stopped an army on his own.

Indeed.

Were it not for the striking difference between their countenance, the young man looked exactly alike to the famous figure whose portrait hang in just about every single hall of the Xiao Clan Mansion; Xiao Wu's ancestor and touted as one of History's greatest geniuses– Xiao Lan!

Wearing black, white and purple colored robes, Xiao Lan had a calm and peaceful expression on his handsome face; behind him, a cascade of long, straight, purple hair flowed like a waterfall down his back, past his shoulder blades, and down all the way below his waist. The purple strands swayed gently with the wind as the man approached in no hurry, seemingly staring right at her...

Xiao Wu compared the youthful looks and the pair of thin lips arranged into a wide, carefree smile with the severe and proud expression that her Ancestor donned in his portraits: though they were night and day, the irrefutable proof of his identity, the pair of emerald eyes glinting like sharp blades and sharp features as if sculpted with a sword, convinced Xiao Wu of this person's identity without any chance of doubt: this man was most definitely her redeemed ancestor, Xiao Lan!

"It is done, boss." Xiao Lan lowered his head respectfully. Then, his expression changed slightly as he spoke once more, "They are coming, boss. Two Faux Amaranthine Grand Elders of the Tyrant Dragon Hall have just left the Hall's territory alongside a hundred Saint stage Elders. The Heaven Devouring Dragon has personally confirmed."

'Saint... and Amaranthine stage?'

Xiao Wu widened her eyes in shock and found it hard to breathe as she realized the meaning behind those words.

Saints, cultivators at the eleventh stage and the peak of the Ageless Realm.

And beyond them, the Amaranthine, cultivators at the twelfth stage of cultivation.

At the twelfth stage, one would have Ascended twice, becoming an Immortal.

Immortal. Immortal! Immortal!!!

A Saint might be a peerless existence at the peak of the Ageless Realm...

But Amaranthines are dreadful existences of the Immortal Realm! Natural disasters!

Even her Xiao Clan only had a few Amaranthines, and as for any who surpassed the Amaranthine stage... apart from her Ancestor and the esteemed Elders and Protectors that had accompanied Xiao Lan in his fight beside Xu Ling, there were none.

'Faux... meaning Immortals that hadn't pioneered a path.'

Xiao Wu remembered that much from the snippet of a conversation between her proctors. Whatever that might entail, Xiao Wu was only sure of one thing.

'A tsunami will wash over a coastline. A mere wave can at best capsize a boat. But if so, Ageless are paper boats at best. A true pioneer or one treading the steps of others...'

'Pioneer or Faux... an Immortal is still an Immortal, young miss.'

So had claimed her Proctors.

And yet, for Xiao Lan to look so calm, could this memory possibly be from the period he had already broken through to the Immortal Realm?

-No.

Cheng Hao's voice sounded in Xiao Wu's ears.

'Woah!'

-Xiao Lan has just reached the bottleneck of the Imperial stage, soon to be a Venerable. Nonetheless, he's still ways off the Saint stage, let alone the Immortal Realm.

'I thought you went to bed?'

-I am a Will. I can't quite converse, but I can answer your questions. If 'I' had the wit to predict what you would ask and include the answer, that is.

The girl waited for some more exposition on the current situation, but the Will spoke no more.

'If that's true, then how is ancestor planning to deal with two Amaranthine stage powerhouses at his current cultivation? Is the difference between Faux and Genuine Immortals more substantial than I was told, such that an Ageless, one not even at the peak of the Realm, could breach that gap?'

-Oh, it is rather substantial. Still, an Immortal is an Immortal.

'So I was told. But then, how...'

-Just watch. You're about to witness history in the making.

'Eh? Why not tell me in advance so I can brace myself?'

-Just watch. You're about to witness history in the making.

'...bubbles.'

-I am a Will. I can't quite converse, but I can answer your questions. If 'I' had the wit to predict what you would ask and include the answer, that is.

'...meanie.'

-I am a Will. And even I could predict you would say that.

'O-oi!'

Xiao Wu eventually stopped after inquiring a few times more, as she figured the Will would only cycle through his preset instructions.

Standing beside her, Xiao Lan's robes fluttered in the wind as the soon-to-be Xiao Clan Master bowed again and smiled serenely, "My Lord, Xu Ling... what should this servant do?"

Had Xiao Wu been in control of the man's movements, one would have been able to see her whole body spasm.

'L-Lord Xu Ling is-!!!'

After Xiao Lan was appointed as the Xiao Clan Master, he elevated the figure of the starry-eyed youth to one higher than even his own, to the point he was recognized as an Ancestral Protector of the Clan; a deity to be worshipped, even.

Although this view may have faded in the years following his demise, Xu Ling remained an idol to the majority of the Clan's younger generation. Xiao Wu herself felt borderline veneration towards the Evil Saint. Nine-year-old Xiao Wu felt a budding excitement at the sudden chance of getting to see one of her two idols.

As soon as Xiao Lan uttered the words, she had immediately struggled to look around. Unfortunately, with her view strictly bound to the first-person perspective of the man wearing golden robes, she was unable to freely search her surroundings. Seeing how Xiao Lan bowing in her direction, the target of his bows and questions was most likely behind her... To be this close to the Evil Saint, these memories would have to be of a person with extremely high status in the Rebel Army, maybe standing on equal footage as Xiao Lan as one of Xu Ling's few trusted aides, or a reliable escort perhaps. This would make this memory extremely rare and, likely, incomprehensibly pricey if ever sold.

Could the secret behind Cheng Hao's uncanny knowledge lie in the likes of this memory?

A daddy's boy with a shocking allowance!

Xiao Wu fell in a slight daze as her impression of Cheng Hao - how he seemed to be able to read her like an open book, his inhumane and heaven-defying feats, his mind-boggling knowledge – all seemed to point in a rather peculiar direction.

Xiao Wu would have definitely tilted her head at that if she could do so.

'...yeah, that doesn't sound quite right, does it? Hello, esteemed Will, your master wouldn't possibly be a stan of the Evil Saint, would he now?'

-I am a Will. I can't quite converse, but I can answer your questions. If 'I' had the wit to predict what you would ask and include the answer, that is.

'Eheh, or are you just acting the part to avoid answering my hard-hitting questions, mmm?'

-I'll leave you to decide whether that's the case or you're really that predictable.

'Oi-!'

Before Xiao Wu could protest, she was interrupted by a mellow voice, overflowing with confidence and exuding indescribable confidence.

"The dragons of vainglorious pride finally take flight."

And at that time, her mind went blank.