I am Rain Ink.

The world began to fracture in ways we never thought possible. Day and night lost their ancient rhythm - sometimes darkness would stretch for countless hours, other times the sun would barely touch the horizon before rising again. Nature itself seemed to revolt: plains split open to spew molten rock while ocean waters inexplicably filled volcanic craters. Most terrifying were the plants - once passive forms of life that now hunted with predatory intent, their roots and vines reaching for human prey with disturbing purpose.

Kingdoms crumbled as farmlands lay abandoned. Trade routes fell silent. In this vacuum of power, bandits and local clans carved out their own territories, ruling through force where law once prevailed.

By then, I had been with the Abyssal Pavilion for 130 years, having just reached Master level. This achievement I owed to The Bamboo Sovereign's constant supply of cultivation pills that helped everyone in our organization advance. My only connections to my past life were the funerals - first my mother's, then my brother's. He left behind a daughter, but she too must have passed by now. Her descendants, if they survived these chaotic times, remained unknown to me.

Master Snow and The Bamboo Sovereign dedicated themselves to investigating these anomalies. Their search took them to the islands of the southeastern seas, spending five years sailing through vast waters, yet finding no answers.

"It's alright," I tried to comfort Master Snow. "We can rest and search again later."

She nodded, her eyes distant. "We plan to explore the northeastern seas next." A slight smile crossed her face. "Your childhood village... that's where I first came into this world."

"Came into this world?" I realized I'd never questioned Master Snow's origins, simply accepting her strength as something that had always been.

She looked at her hands thoughtfully before meeting my gaze. "I've remained unchanged since my first breath - never growing, never aging. No parents, no siblings. I came without purpose, only... a sense that some force called me here."

Catching the contradiction in her words, she added softly, "Though I don't know what summoned me, I had to discover my path alone."

She sighed. "The full story is too long to tell. I thought I had completed my purpose..."

"Completed..." she whispered, as if suddenly grasping something significant.

Now I understand - perhaps she realized that completion meant returning. Returning to...

"Sometimes during my investigations, I would fall asleep," she said, her voice growing distant. "Other times, I wasn't sleeping but would close my eyes and see endless deep ocean, feeling myself sinking deeper and deeper..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

Something different, a deep melancholy I'd never seen before, clouded her eyes. I stepped forward and embraced her gently, like a mother comforting her child. "You'll find a way through this."

"Yes," she nodded, though her voice carried little conviction.

During the time Bamboo Sovereign and Master Snow were out, The Abyssal Pavilion was changing - spiritual herbs grew more scarce, and the Immortal Alliance's grip on order loosened in the face of these anomalies. Many of our members began to leave. They had originally sought refuge here from the Alliance's laws; now, with the Alliance's power waning and our resources dwindling, they saw no reason to stay.

Elder Blackwood threw himself into constructing defensive formations, hoping to protect us against any opportunistic attacks from the weakened Alliance. We weren't sure if we had enough people left to mount an effective defense, though we doubted the Alliance could organize any significant assault while dealing with the anomalies themselves.

But just half a year before Master Snow's return, the unthinkable happened. The Immortal Alliance suddenly marshaled a force - mostly disciples from the Celestial Sword Sect - and arrived at our doorstep. Strangely, their Sect Leader was notably absent. Their demand was simple: surrender Master Snow, whom they claimed was the source of these divine anomalies.

Though I shouted at them "That's impossible!" I must now admit that after Master Snow's death, everything gradually returned to normal. Indeed, on the very day of her passing, the natural cycle of day and night restored itself as if by divine decree.

Fortunately, Elder Blackwood's defensive formations could hold off their attacks for a while. We clung to hope, believing that once The Bamboo Sovereign and Master Snow returned, we would be saved. They were Deity level cultivators - eliminating these attackers would be effortless for them.

On the day of their return, The Bamboo Sovereign unleashed devastating carnage among the attacking disciples. His weapon of choice was poisoned pine needles, crafted with a jade-like texture and infused with Wind Patio's deadly toxins. The grounds outside the Abyssal Pavilion became a graveyard of fallen bodies. We cheered in triumph, confident we could repel the Immortal Alliance.

But our celebration was short-lived. They quickly discovered an antidote. Protected by their armor against the pine needles, the reinforced attackers shattered another layer of our defensive formations. We lost many of our own in that assault.

It must have been during this breach that the wolf silently infiltrated the Chasm of Abyss. The next day, the Immortal Alliance forces withdrew, and Master Snow was gone. She left only a letter for The Bamboo Sovereign, explaining that she needed to confront the Immortal Alliance about the divine anomalies herself. She asked him not to worry, and most importantly, not to search for her.

Of course The Bamboo Sovereign couldn't stand idly by. He gathered the Abyssal Pavilion's seven greatest assassins, each at Legend level, and led an assault on the Mystic Enigma Pavilion, then the most powerful sect in the Immortal Alliance. Blood ran like rivers through their halls, but Blaze Mighty's forces ultimately drove them back. The Bamboo Sovereign returned gravely wounded, having lost all his assassins - Serenity's betrayal in the midst of battle had led to the brutal deaths of the remaining six.

He retreated into seclusion to heal his wounds while the Abyssal Pavilion gradually fell into decline. The sky mirrored our chaos - sometimes endless day, sometimes endless night, sometimes cycling between the two in rapid hourly shifts, as unstable as the world itself.

I silently prayed, clinging to Master Snow's words, believing she had truly gone to the Immortal Alliance seeking ways to restore balance to our world.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

But I realize now my mistake wasn't in praying for Master Snow to succeed - it was in failing to consider the price she would have to pay for that success.

When The Bamboo Sovereign emerged from seclusion, his once warm and cheerful nature had turned silent and withdrawn. He attempted to continue growing spiritual herbs, but they either withered suddenly or turned aggressive, attacking us. Few could gather enough natural aura to become useful spiritual herbs.

Though The Bamboo Sovereign maintained a fragile semblance of stability, everything truly shattered the day of Master Snow's execution. He went alone to the Celestial Sword Sect that day. He returned carrying only Master Snow's remains - a piece of obsidian - his mind completely broken. The entire Abyssal Pavilion was consumed by grief.

The one bitter irony was that day and night returned to their natural rhythm - as if confirming the Immortal Alliance's accusations.

I've always harbored complicated feelings toward The Bamboo Sovereign. I don't know if I should resent him for failing to save Master Snow, but he wasn't omnipotent. And I... I was equally powerless in this tragedy.

Wind Patio continued managing the herb fields, while Elder Blackwood maintained the Labyrinth Network he had built with Master Snow. I could help with neither. The Bamboo Sovereign spent his days in a grove of Frost Jade Pines - the trees he used for weapon crafting - speaking madly to that piece of stone.

Without Master Snow, what purpose did I have in the Abyssal Pavilion? One day, my wandering led me to that pine grove. The Bamboo Sovereign noticed me, and I was shocked by his appearance - he had aged dramatically. Cultivators weren't supposed to age like this!

"Rain, leave this place," he said simply.

I panicked, as if he had read my innermost thoughts. "No, this is my home," I shook my head.

He smiled faintly. "It's good that you still think of this as your home."

His words sent a chill down my spine. In that moment, I realized he hadn't completely lost his mind - he was still The Bamboo Sovereign who had led the Abyssal Pavilion with both kindness and authority.

"Because you consider this your home," he continued, "I need you to leave even more."

"Why?" I asked, startled.

The aged sovereign narrowed his eyes. "You're not wanted by the Immortal Alliance. You can still join them... I need you to leave and find..."

He paused, seeming to lose his train of thought. He shook his head.

"What was I looking for?" he mumbled.

"Why Master Snow left?" I prompted gently.

"Yes... No. I want to know... what did she experience in the Immortal Alliance...?" he whispered.

"She seemed to have something to tell me, but ran out of time. You must help her find the answers." He gave me one last lucid smile. Then he turned back to the obsidian in his hands, his sanity slipping away again. "Little stone, where shall we go today?"

I bid farewell to The Bamboo Sovereign, but he didn't acknowledge me, lost in his conversation with the stone. After saying goodbye to Elder Blackwood and Wind Patio, I left the only place I'd called home for over a century. But where could I go?

The Immortal Alliance was a coalition of various sects and cultivation families, with the most powerful sects wielding the greatest influence. I needed to join a sect - the Mystic Enigma Pavilion was currently the most powerful, but the Celestial Sword Sect was rising like a new star in the cultivation world. Moreover, it was closer to my childhood home. As if guided by an invisible hand of fate, I found myself returning to the village of my youth.

War and divine anomalies had stripped the village bare. The goddess temple stood in the distance, its statue miraculously intact despite the roof having partially collapsed, debris scattered like fallen autumn leaves across the sacred ground.

As I approached, I noticed a figure sitting before the goddess statue, drinking alone in the dim light. His cultivator's robes marked him as one of our kind, though they seemed travel-worn.

He sensed my presence and turned to look at me. That moment froze my blood - I had never encountered someone whose mere glance carried such natural killing intent. Even the assassins of the Abyssal Pavilion, trained killers all, had never emanated such an innate deadliness.

"Hello," he spoke first, his voice carrying an unexpected warmth.

Caught off guard by the contrast between his murderous aura and gentle tone, I managed a simple, "Hello."

"What brings you here?" he asked, his courteous manner completely at odds with his lethal presence.

I need to conceal my identity now - any connection to Master Snow would be dangerous. "I'm a cultivator," I replied carefully. "I lived in this village during my childhood... now that the divine anomalies have ended, I... came back to see it."

When I mentioned the end of the divine anomalies, his brows furrowed noticeably. Though he quickly forced his expression back to neutrality, attempting casualness as he responded, "Yes... they have ended."

"What a coincidence - I'm also a cultivator. Which sect do you belong to?" His conversational tone suggested he was more talkative than me.

The mention of sects likely meant he was affiliated with the Immortal Alliance. I steadied my breathing before speaking the most painful lie of my life: "I've been an independent cultivator until now. I heard the Celestial Sword Sect executed the one responsible for the divine anomalies. Their reputation impressed me, and I'm hoping to join their ranks..."

The words tasted like poison on my tongue. To praise those who had killed Master Snow, to pretend admiration for her executioners - it took every ounce of my self-control to maintain a calm facade.

His silence at my words hung heavy in the temple air. Suddenly, he lifted his wine jar and took a long, desperate drink. The alcohol spilled down his face, soaking his robes, but he seemed not to notice or care. Then, with a violent motion, he smashed the jar against the ground, its fragments scattering like fallen stars across the temple floor. His laughter erupted - wild, uncontrolled - startling me. Though he was laughing, the sound carried such profound grief that it seemed to pierce the very soul.

When he finally composed himself, his voice came quiet and measured: "I am the Sect Leader of the Celestial Sword Sect. You're welcome to join us."

I stared at him - this was the executioner who had taken Master Snow's life. But I needed to bury my hatred deep, to let none of it show in my eyes or voice. I forced my features into a serene smile, though my heart screamed in protest.

"It would be my honor," I said, the words like ashes in my mouth.

And so I joined the Celestial Sword Sect. After Blaze Mighty's death, I became one of the four cardinal elders, taking the title Sage South Rain. I assisted Blaze's disciple Nimbus, now known as Sage East Cloud, who had become the sect leader. My duties involved managing the sect's internal affairs.

My elevated position granted me access to the Immortal Alliance's confidential meetings. These high-level gatherings took place on a small island in the southeastern seas, far from the mainland's prying eyes. They were presided over by Xavier, also known as Sage Soulguard - the only cultivator in thousands of years to achieve The Perfect Completion of Deity. He possessed the remarkable ability to reincarnate while retaining both his memories and most of his cultivation power. His soul had lived for millennia, making him a living repository of all cultivation knowledge.

I also gained access to the Celestial Archives, where the keeper had grown accustomed to a peaceful, undisturbed existence. My frequent visits forced him to at least pretend to be busy. The sight of him hurriedly arranging scrolls whenever I appeared became a familiar one.

Through these visits, I grew closer to the archive keeper. Thaddeus Drake eventually became my husband.

Sometimes I would recall Master Snow's warning: "Don't trust men too easily." Yet I found myself defying most of her teachings. I naturally gravitated toward elegant appearances, styling my hair in intricate patterns reminiscent of the goddess statue. Despite my previous encounter with a marriage so tragic it barely deserved the name, I still yearned for love. I tried to rationalize it - Master Snow had always been adaptable, accepting of change. Perhaps she would have approved of my choices?

Thaddeus was a gifted cultivator who had joined the Mystic Enigma Pavilion, possessing a Transcendent level Stasis spirit root. However, after reaching Legend level, he lost interest in pursuing Deity realm. Instead, his passion lay in collecting obscure knowledge, which led him to become the keeper of the Celestial Archives. His eyes would light up at the discovery of some forgotten text or ancient record, and his enthusiasm was infectious.

Our conversations began with my inquiries about records from the divine anomalies period, then shifted to his insistence that I should fully develop my Gifted level Stasis spirit root. Through these discussions, I learned various secret arts and cultivation methods related to Stasis from the Mystic Enigma Pavilion.

Though I never revealed my connection to Master Snow, Thaddeus confided that his research led him to believe she was a heroine. His disgust for the Immortal Alliance's hypocrisy drew us closer - here was someone who saw through their righteous facade to the truth beneath.

During my two centuries of investigation, I discovered many records had been deliberately hidden by the Immortal Alliance, beyond even Thaddeus's access. He joked that I should become the Celestial Sword Sect's leader to gain higher clearance - an amusing but seemingly impossible suggestion at the time.

Eventually, I reached Legend level, gaining a millennium of life. Living peacefully with Thaddeus, I almost convinced myself this was enough. That I could let the past rest.

Then Flint returned, awakening me to my true purpose. She revealed that Master Snow hadn't always been powerful - she too had struggled, grown, fought her way forward. Now it was my turn to repay Master Snow's kindness. Just as she had given me a home when I had nothing, I would protect Flint with everything I had.

Now, facing Sage Mortius Crane's accusations, I watched the poor young wolf, Spark, succumb to their pressure. My only consolation was knowing Flint had successfully escaped to the Abyssal Pavilion. At least she was safe.

I turned to address the assembled elders and sect leader, their faces masks of righteous indignation. The same faces that had condemned Master Snow centuries ago now sought to judge another innocent.

"Honored elders," my voice carried clearly through the hall, "that was Obsidian Snow's remains. The Abyssal Pavilion merely reclaimed what was rightfully theirs. Where is the crime in that?"

"Oh? So you've been conspiring with the Abyssal Pavilion?" Sage Mortius Crane's accusation cut through the air like a blade.

"That's irrelevant," I replied, allowing myself a small smile. The same smile I had worn when first entering the Celestial Sword Sect, hiding daggers behind courtesy. "I'm simply stating a fact."

Let them make what they would of my words. After centuries of silent observation, of keeping my thoughts locked away behind dutiful smiles and respectful bows, speaking this truth felt like breaking free from invisible chains.

I am Rain Ink. I am Master Snow’s student.