"Where did this wind come from?!"
Yu Xuan's voice broke the silence as he gazed up at the sky—golden, yet without a sun. The clouds above moved slowly, and the air felt heavy with moisture, sticking to their skin like a wet blanket.
A strange unease stirred in his chest.
No one knew where the wind had come from.
No one... except for Moyin.
The man stood eerily still, his eyes fixed on Chen Tian, his expression unreadable.
'Another cultivator?! H-How didn't I sense him?!'
Moyin's thoughts raced, alarmed and... intrigued.
There was something different about Chen Tian. Unlike Aria or Emilia, whom he could roughly gauge, Moyin couldn't see through this young man at all. A faint, unfamiliar pressure wrapped around Chen Tian like a silent storm—one that whispered of danger.
'I absolutely refuse to believe a human is making me feel this way,' Moyin muttered inwardly, narrowing his eyes, attempting to discern Chen Tian's intentions through the still air.
