The advancing armies of the Abundance Followers surged like a cataclysmic flood after a mountain's collapse. Warships blotted out the sky, pressing forward with overwhelming force.
Behind the clouds, as an ancient summoning ritual commenced, an ethereal white mist began to spread across the battlefield. Within it, mirage-like figures emerged—wailing, suffering, despair—a convergence of all negative emotions.
Finally, within the illusory mist, a colossal vertical purple eye slowly opened, dominating the entire sky. As the fog dispersed, everyone witnessed a horrifying sight: a lifeless, planet-sized entity had silently appeared directly above Fanghu. Should it descend, all life would meet its end.
The purple eye gazed indifferently at Fanghu, while countless smaller pupils emerged across the planet's surface, as though searching for the enemy that once destroyed it.
But in this era, the legendary Cloud Quintet no longer existed—there was no one left to halt its advance.
After a brief hum, tens of thousands of annihilation beams erupted from the vertical eye, obliterating the entire frontlines in an instant. The defenses the Cloud Knights had fought so desperately to maintain crumbled in mere moments.
[Phantom of Ketu]
This was the sentient planet that once destroyed the Xianzhou's Cangcheng. Now, the malevolent star had been summoned once more, destined to deliver Fanghu its final judgment.
The Cloud Knights could only watch helplessly as the phantom star reaped countless lives, descending like a death countdown from the heavens.
An Ming gripped Wuye tightly, desperate to act, yet realizing that against a planet, he was powerless. Once again, he felt the weight of futility. He held a sword, yet could not alter fate's course.
Is there truly only one path ordained by fate?
If so, what meaning does this blade hold?
Ignoring his exhaustion, An Ming staggered out of the field hospital. As a Cloud Knight, he would at least die on the battlefield.
"We Cloud Knights, like clouds shielding the sky—"
"Stand as the Xianzhou's bulwark!"
In his daze, An Ming seemed to hear the roars of his comrades, the clashing of steel.
"Shijie… can fate truly be severed?"
Divination Commission
On the holographic sand table, Fu Xuan witnessed the reinforcements' defeat. The Borisin not only possessed an armada that blotted out the sun but had also summoned the legendary sentient planet [Phantom of Ketu].
Fu Xuan dared not imagine the consequences of the phantom star's descent. The mere thought of losing An Ming turned her limbs ice-cold. She steadied herself against the sand table, her petite frame trembling.
Lose An Ming?
No… she refused!
Taking a deep breath, Fu Xuan placed her finger on the sand table. Mystical hexagrams swirled around her fingertips. As a diviner, this was all she could do—seek the sliver of hope in this direst hour.
The hexagrams advised maintaining defense and awaiting a future turning point.
Fu Xuan burned with fury. Defense? What meaning did that hold now? Were they to wait passively for the phantom star to annihilate everything? Why couldn't she pierce fate's veil?!
"When weighing two evils, choose the lesser." This was the first lesson Fu Xuan had learned in divination. But how could she weigh evils now? Could mortal vision truly discern an answer within fate's torrent?
"Master… your disciple has failed. Had I seen further, perhaps this ending would not be so cruel."
A clear teardrop fell onto the sand table. Fu Xuan wiped her eyes and strode out of the Divination Commission. There was no time left for hesitation—she would act.
The Cloud Knights' collapse was irreversible; victory was nonexistent. If no turning point existed, she would create one.
The only hope was—
Let the Divine Archer Descend!
The shadow of the Phantom of Ketu loomed over Fanghu. The unending fires of war left countless Cloud Knights fallen, their light extinguished. Victory was impossible. Yet not a soul retreated.
An Ming, drenched in blood, lifted his head. Wuye in his hand had lost its glow, its blade stained crimson from severing countless Abundance Followers. Cold rain fell like tears upon his face.
Around him, no comrade remained standing. Blood and severed limbs painted the earth.
Fate's path was singular.
As An Ming stared at Wuye, drowning in helplessness, the rain suddenly ceased. The wind stilled.
High on a cliff, a figure stood with azure threads of light connecting to the sky. As the clouds parted, a massive mirror-like instrument hovered above—the Kan Yun Lens, the Alliance's greatest astral observatory.
"What are you planning?"
"General, Yuque possesses the Alliance's foremost astral tool. If we transmit a distress signal to the last known coordinates of the Divine Archer, we can reverse this calamity and halt the Phantom of Ketu!"
"As the proposer, I will personally enter the battlefield to operate the Kan Yun Lens!"
Fu Xuan received no affirmation. Watching Jing Yuan's retreating figure, she suddenly understood. Trembling, she collapsed into her seat.
Fate's path was singular.
"Lady Fu, you lack authority to operate the Kan Yun Lens. But fear not—in crisis, the Six Chariots must unite."
"I, as the proposer, shall bear all responsibility."
Jing Yuan spoke resolutely, his weariness overshadowed by resolve.
Only Jingtian, the one who comprehended the Divine Archer's will, could transmit the signal.
In that moment, Fu Xuan grasped the truth of fate. The path had always been singular. Her defiance, her doubts—all were threads within fate's tapestry. Even disbelief was destiny.
The rain ceased. Peach blossoms still bloomed in the courtyard.
Jingtian gazed at the Phantom of Ketu, then at An Ming on the distant battlefield, smiling faintly.
That blade… its true moment had not yet come.
"One day, you will sever this so-called fate."
Closing his eyes, Jingtian raised his hand without hesitation.
Azure light cascaded, transforming into a radiant pillar that pierced the heavens, reaching straight into the sea of stars.