Xian Wei awoke to warmth, the first sensation before his consciousness fully registered. It was morning, and today was an important day. He hastily adjusted his clothes, simple cloth linens, barely more than beggar's rags, and joined his family for their morning meal. Warm rice and bay leaves he suspected, a common meal. and joined his family for their meager morning meal of warm rice and bay leaves. It was a common meal that he had grown fond of during his childhood on the Viridian Terrace. A communal farm that grew a meager selection of crops. Once teeming with life, now a barren field of dead crops and withering villagers. Xian Wei was the last of the children who remained, and was soon to depart on the path as well.

Before sitting with his parents, Xian Wei pours himself some tea. As he pours, his mother asks, "Have you decided which direction you want to take in your cultivation, my dear son?" Xian Wei looks sullenly into his cup, "Not yet. I've been practicing the technique Father taught me, but I still feel like I have a lot to learn." Xian Lian nods in agreement, "It takes time to find your path. Just remember to stay focused and disciplined." Xian Wei smiles, "I will, father." Having concluded their conversation, Xian Wei and his family eat their pitiful meals. Xian Wei looked down at his breakfast. Two bay leaves delicately adorned atop a bowl of rice. The table, made of flimsy bamboo, looked as though it could collapse at any moment.

Xian Wei recalls the techniques he had practiced throughout the years prior. They were unrefined and few, as befitting his lowly position in the world. During his one and only excursion into the wastes, Xian Lian, his father, discovered a rare Qi transmutation method. [100 Lead Arcs] a metal-oriented technique that can transmute the user's sweat into lead, allowing them to create and manipulate it at will. The technique requires a high level of control over one's Qi and a strong physical constitution to generate enough sweat to sustain the metal production. With practice, the user can manifest intricate metal shapes, typically forked arcs, to enhance their attacks. At the peak of mastery, the user can generate metal so rapidly that they are able to spontaneously generate complex metal structures, striking their opponents before they have a chance to react. Xian Wei however, is no such master. As he can only grasp the fundamental essence of the technique. Xian Wei learned one other technique during his time in the terrace. Although rudimentary, the [Fallen Ash] sword style is a necessity, should one wish to venture beyond the gates of safety.

Xian Wei addressed his parents, “Mother, Father. I thank you for all you and this village have done for me. But my window to leave is closing. I hope you find peace in my absence.” Xian Wei’s heart grew heavy as he spoke, for he knew that this was the last meal the village had to offer. He retrieved the small sack of provisions he had prepared the night before and turned to leave.

Neither parent met his gaze as he exited the house, his father's old sword in tow. A rotten Jiang from decades passed, the once shiny metal now dull and discolored from exposure to the sun's harsh rays. Years of neglect had left the hilt and pommel, once beautifully engraved, now dull and lifeless. The leather wrap on the grip is cracked and peeling, and the sword's blade lay dormant within the confines of the scabbard. Trapped within a tomb of sun-bleached wood and leather, the weapon had seen better days. But it was all he had, and it would have to do.

As he exited the threshold to the outside world, he bore witness a final time to the home he had lived for the entirety of his life. It was an unremarkable structure, a small dwelling made of mud and straw. Dead plant matter littered across the exterior walls. Twisting vines that once promised new life, now withered into cracked, dead stalks. An inhospitable wasteland. The terrace offered all it had for the sake of the final generation.

Xian Wei made his way throughout the terrace, quickly making sure to offer a farewell to those few who remained. Old Man Yi, the terrace’s sole source for clothing. Had personally clothed each and every one of the last generation. Xian Wei offered thanks to Chen Yi, for all he had done for the terrace, as well as for himself. Mister Wei, the last of the farmers, stopped working months ago. When they had finally grown their last crop, enough to feed Xian Wei until he left. Xian Wei offered thanks to Gao Wei, for all that he had done for the terrace, as well as for himself. The last was Sister Ling, the children’s teacher. She taught Xian Wei, as well as all of those among the final generation, to read and write. Xian Wei offered thanks to Mei Ling, for all she has done for the terrace, and as well as for himself.

He hurried towards the gate, an impressive construct in its time, reduced to a fraction of its glory. Xian Wei stood before a looming gate that once stretched to the sky. It was made of blackened wood and studded with metal spikes, giving it a formidable appearance. The gate was held in place by two massive stone pillars, each adorned with intricate carvings of mythical beasts. The wood was covered in strange runes that glowed in the moonlight, adding to the gate's aura. Standing guard there was only a solitary figure. A stone construct crafted by an unknown artisan from a time when the terrace reflected its name. As Xian Wei approached the gate to the wasteland, he saw the stone construct standing guard. The structure was towering, easily reaching a height of ten meters. It was a massive, four-armed golem made entirely of stone. Its features were chiseled with precision, giving it a sharp and intimidating appearance. The golem's eyes were two small, glowing orbs of light that flickered with a faint blue hue. Its limbs were thick and muscular, looking as though they were hewn from the very mountains themselves. The golem's torso was adorned with intricate symbols and glyphs, etched deeply into the surface of the stone. As Xian Wei approached the gate, the golem's eyes locked onto him, and it let out a deep, rumbling growl that echoed through the air. “It’s finally time then,” the guardian spoke. “Once you leave, I will crumble and there will be nothing left to protect the people here. Are you sure of your decision to leave?” “Yes, either I leave now, or I become like them. There is no choice.” Xian Wei retorted. The stone guardian made no indication of emotion, it only turned to face the world beyond the terrace, “I truly hope you have made the right choice.” The guardian spoke for the final time. Xian Wei turned to look upon his home once again, but as he walked away, the image vanished like a mirage, leaving him as its final offering to the world.

Alone and with a heavy heart, Xian Wei began his journey towards the only sanctuary left in the Ash Wastes: the Twelve Heavens Nine Divine Dragons pavilion, or simply "the pavilion." The inhospitable wasteland was a place where massive sandstorms clouded the skies, leaving only moments of clarity between them. The only signs of life were the occasional fauna, burrowing beneath the dunes for food. Even for an experienced survivalist, finding these creature's would take hours of grueling effort. The air was thick with dust, filling Xian Wei's nostrils with a dry grit. He could feel the sting of sand against his face and hear the incessant howl of the wind as it whipped around him, threatening to throw him off course at any moment. But he knew that he had to press on, or risk being swallowed up by the endless sea of sand.

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Xian Wei relied on a technique ingrained in him since childhood to guide him in the right direction. This final technique, which had been forcefully ingrained into as many children as possible. This technique, which was far from ordinary, involved refining the olfactory organs of children to detect specific Qi signatures from incredible distances. Xian Wei could hardly recall his training, as he was so young at the time. An elder from the pavilion had visited their home and demonstrated his own Qi, which left a lasting impression on Xian Wei. The elder hoped that the children would seek him out one day, having witnessed his spectacular display of Qi. Xian Wei scoured his memory for a trace of the magnificent Qi he had witnessed that day. Deep within his mind, the flame of recollection stirred, and he found it. The source was distant, but Xian Wei had expected as much. He knew the Ash Wastes were vast and full of dangers, he had no choice but to press on towards the pavilion.

Xian Wei began to move, trudging through the sands at a measured pace while pouring more focus into his technique than ever before, making sure to maintain the connection at all times. He had been warned about what to expect in this environment, but it wasn't until now that Xian Wei truly accepted it. Letting out a sigh, he continued on, knowing there weren't many landmarks for him to rely on during his journey. “Once you leave the village, head north until you can verify the Sea of Glass is below the sun,” Xian Wei had remembered. He was always told he would know what the phrase meant when it was time. This was one thing Xian Wei was genuinely excited about in this horrific environment. “What could the Sea of Glass be, if not a wonder to behold?” he thought. Xian Wei continued to walk for six hours, but the pain in his legs and lungs had become too great to bear at this point. With the little training afforded to him as the last child, his body was ill-equipped to handle the journey. Xian Wei searched for any sign of shelter but found nothing, only the endless dunes and clouds. He pressed on despite the pain; he had to find shelter, there was no other choice. With each step, the pain in his legs grew, as if the sands themselves were draining his energy, yet he pressed on one step at a time, left, right, left, right. He maintained this for another two hours before collapsing to his knees. How could he be expected to make this journey!? Xian Wei considered resigning himself to fate. In that moment, he saw them, or rather, he noticed a once-distant mirage now growing larger. He felt a quiet unease as the figure approached. The creature’s features started to materialize, and Xian Wei’s blood ran cold. He had heard stories of these things before. It was a Sandborn, a twisted creature that utilized its reflective body to blind its prey, which had emerged in the aftermath of the War over Heaven. Xian Wei's mind raced, trying to think of a way to escape. His previous thoughts were now gone from his mind, and the presence of danger itself made sure of that.

The Sandfiends are enigmatic and perilous non-life entities that blur the boundaries between the living and the inanimate. Their twisted forms appear as distorted humanoid shapes, almost like phantoms emerging from the swirling sands. The way they manipulate the light around them, making their very existence a mirage that shimmers like polished mirrors in the unforgiving desert sun, is both hypnotic and terrifying. Their jet-black eyes are like polished stones, deep and unfathomable, seeming to stare right into one's soul, unflinching and unyielding. Every movement of their lithe and agile bodies is precise, they glide through the sand with an eerie, almost inhuman grace, their every step carving a path through the shifting sands. Their presence is an omen of imminent danger, and Xian Wei feels his every nerve on edge as he gazes upon one of these dreaded creatures.

He felt a surge of adrenaline as he prepared to face the Sandfiend. Xian Wei’s thoughts settled on a singular idea, he had to fight. While he was bereft of energy, his willpower flourished. Where moments ago he had all but given up, now presented with an opportunity to fight for his survival, he chose to draw his weapon. This was precisely why he had brought the old weapon with him. The sun-bleached scabbard offered little in the way of cutting power, but Xian Wei presumed the bludgeoning force of the wood would be enough to deter the creature, if not injure it outright. Xian Wei knew the Sandfiend was a formidable foe, but he refused to back down. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath.

Xian Wei had a plan: he would block the first attack from the creature, and then strike at its legs, hoping to disable the creature and make his escape. He faltered in his thoughts as the Sandfiend now loomed over him. With the creature's features now fully materialized before him, the very presence of the creature felt as cold and unforgiving as a block of ice. As Xian Wei began the process of qi circulation, he could feel the power of the [100 Lead Arcs] technique stirring within him. His meridians thrummed with energy, and he began to feel the steadily increasing weight of his body. In the blink of an eye, the creature lashed out with one of its appendages, the movement as quick and deadly as a bolt of lightning. Xian Wei hardly had time to react, the long, twisted spear piercing the space between them, he brought the flat of the scabbard to his face, blocking the creature's jagged appendage. Fragments of his weapon were shed as the creature brought down its arm on the wooden blade. A moment later Xian Wei was struck by the creature's other arm, he had barely managed to block the second attack. His arms being weary from the day of travel, weren’t able to move in time and he suffered a devastating injury. The strength of the blow cracked his bones and flashed hot pain throughout his body. With no other options, Xian Wei launched his counterattack. With the weight of his body now increased from the technique, he readied his blade.

Xian Wei swung his arms, flashes of searing pain protesting angrily against him, yet he did not falter from his training. The bludgeon his father’s sword had become rang out like the crack of thunder, echoing across the desert sands as it struck the creature with staggering force. Xian Wei found his= mark, one of the few weak points among the deadly creature’s evolved geometry, the joint connecting one of its needle-like legs to its torso. Xian Wei’s heart plummeted as he watched the creature reel from his blow, knowing that he had nothing left to give. The last of his reserves had been spent on that first desperate strike. Xian Wei fell forward onto the sand, exhausted from the brief exchange, and he felt the creeping terror of unconsciousness begin to envelop his mind. He waited in the sand, anticipating the creature's next move, when suddenly a sickening crack echoed across the desert. The creature let out a pained cry as its pelvic joint shattered, trying to bear weight on its injured leg, the creature crumpled to the ground. Xian Wei tried to move, to crawl away from the collapsed creature, but his body would not respond. With his consciousness hanging by a thread, Xian Wei's vision faded to blackness. But he was not defeated yet. In his last moments of awareness, he devoted his mind to refining his connection to the distant energy source, determined to maintain the connection.

Xian Wei finds himself walking among a colorful garden filled with vibrant flowers of all shapes and sizes. He takes a deep breath and savors the sweet fragrance filling his lungs. But as he continues to walk, he begins to feel a sense of unease. The flowers start to wilt and their colors fade, and the air around him becomes thick and suffocating. Xian Wei suddenly realizes that he cannot breathe, and panic sets in as he struggles to catch his breath. He claws at his throat, trying to clear the obstruction, but to no avail. Just as he feels like he's about to suffocate, he jolts awake, gasping for air where there is none, the sand he had fallen into now covering his body. He struggles sincerely and is successful in setting himself free from the sinister sands.