Over the Sealed Land, a black raven cut the sky, its blood-red eyes a bad omen. Wherever it passed, black light-rain fell, seeping into the barren earth like ink.

“Wake, my children.”

The drenched ground shuddered. Corpses clawed up from the black soil. Iron-blue faces, no breath of life. They moved like husks, driven by dull instinct alone.

“What is that?” Inside the Sealed Land, Sword Demon watched the rain of light, baffled. He asked Cataclysm, the know-it-all who hoarded secrets like winter grain.

Cataclysm lifted his hand and let the black light-rain bead on his palm like soot.

“Who’d have thought… We unleashed the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts to drown the world in chaos. Turns out we were extra. The raven of the Other Shore, keeper of life and death, has shown itself.”

He sighed and pulled his coat tighter, like a man turning from a cold wind. “Sword Demon, let’s leave this nest of trouble.”

Sword Demon still carried doubts, but Cataclysm wouldn’t explain. He wanted out anyway. At those words, they left without looking back, like shadows slipping off a wall.

The raven kept flying across the Sealed Land. The land was vast, horizon to horizon. Wherever it went, it laid a long road of death. Countless corpses burst from the soil, roaring the grievances of their past lives at the sky.

At last, the raven returned to that eerie lake. It perched on the stone at the center, black on black, calm as night water.

“You two… come out.” The raven spoke to empty air. After a few seconds, Cataclysm and Sword Demon stood at the shore, silhouettes against the dark.

“Raven Your Majesty, how may we serve?” Cataclysm bowed, humble as frost on grass.

The raven seemed pleased. It nodded. “Good. I’m a creature of fate. Meeting you is fate. The army of this Lost Continent is yours. You know what to do.”

A black bead rolled from the raven’s beak, fell into Cataclysm’s hand, then went dull like a dying ember.

“Raven Your Majesty… I… I…” Cataclysm stammered, words breaking like twigs. The raven didn’t seem to hear.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll say the ugly part upfront. This mission comes straight from the Master. If anything goes wrong, expect the Master at your door.”

The raven burst into a storm of black feathers and vanished like smoke.

Sword Demon stood stunned, tongue tied. Too weird—handing command of an army to them just like that. Was that crow sick in the head?

Cataclysm read his thoughts and gave a bitter smile. “It’s not sick. Even with command, I don’t dare act rashly.” Sword Demon frowned. Cataclysm explained, voice low, like rain in reeds. “I know that raven. When I first woke into awareness, it bullied me plenty. Most of the gossip I know, I stole by following it.”

“It was that damn raven that pushed me into Ouyang’s team. When it all ended, I thought I’d slip their leash. Who knew…”

Unwillingness shadowed Cataclysm’s face, but helplessness weighed heavier, like stone on a net.

“It’s not the era of the Other Shore anymore,” Sword Demon said, heat in his chest like a spark. “That raven shouldn’t have the reach to meddle like this. Besides, we have a lord behind us. He won’t just sit and watch.”

“You’re brave… but think on this.” Cataclysm’s gaze was cold, a winter river. “The raven that claims life and death is only someone’s pet.”

“Uh…” Sword Demon had no words. His thoughts scattered like startled birds.

“Our lord is strong. Frankly, compared to the one who keeps that raven, our lord is still young. I served that existence for a time. I know some of his mind. This army exists to blood-wash the Source World, even this starry sky. He’ll open the ‘Door’ with endless corpses.”

“Whether we succeed or fail, the blame sticks to us. Sword Demon, are you ready to stand against the entire continent? We have no choice.”

Silence said the rest, heavy as dusk.

“While the continent’s eyes stay fixed on the Twelve Divine Demon Artifacts, we plan. When that spectacle ends, we move.”

———————————————

In a world of magma, the black raven flew over a sea of fire. A vacuum lay around it like a halo. No molten surge could come close.

Clang, clang…

Chain against chain rang clear in that molten world, loud enough to echo across creation. A young man hung pierced by countless chains—heart, limbs, throat—each link a cold blade.

“Master, it’s arranged.” The raven hovered before him, wary like a fox, keeping its distance.

Whoosh. The man’s eyes opened. Ink-black pupils. No whites. Night without stars.

“Well done… come closer.”

The raven didn’t obey. It slid farther away, avoiding danger like a fish sensing a hook. The man scowled, temper flaring like a vent. “Come. Here!”

“No.” The raven’s refusal was iron.

“Come!!”

The raven stood its ground, stubborn as a rock under surf. “Master, you can’t touch me right now!” It swayed its body, twisted its waist, shook its head, like hamming up a tacky plaza dance.

The man blinked, patient gone, and roared, “Damn crow, just wait. I’ll head to the Seventh Galaxy, rip out your true body, and boil you!”

“Wow.” The raven scoffed, feathers sleek. “No use. I’ve got political asylum from the First Imperial Princess. She’ll cover me for ten thousand years.”

Smugness rolled off it like warm steam. The chained man went quiet. He closed his eyes, like sleep falling over embers. Then a sword split the rock and rose from the magma sea, silver cutting red.

“Little raven, better run.” A voice came from the Divine Sword, cool as moonlight. “The First Imperial Princess marched into the depths of the Void three thousand years ago. Your asylum’s worthless. Do you ever check the news before each nap?”

The raven’s black feathers fluffed like a bomb going off.

“How can this be? What a scam… Master, I was wrong. I won’t do it again…”

——————————————————————————————————

Demon King’s City. Inside Ouyang’s castle, Agas and Dongze came to mooch tea. Their excuse was simple: Ouyang had a diligent maid, so they shamelessly let Nabelia serve them.

Of course, that was what their mouths said. But Ouyang felt their eyes were off, like wolves watching a sheep. That look—Dream Chaser and Fallen Leaf wore the same look every time before they tricked him.

But what reason? What did he have worth scamming? One was the dean of Starry College, his mentor in some ways. The other cared for him like an older brother. They wouldn’t set him up.

“Ahem, Ouyang, remember your neighbor back in the Starry Citadel?”

Dongze’s words pulled Ouyang back. His thoughts slid to that time. Back then in the Starry Citadel, yes, there was such a neighbor. He searched—her name was…

What was it? He was sure the name lived in his memory. Yet now it stayed hidden like a fish in deep water. Why? Why couldn’t he recall? Not just the name—almost everything about her was gone. Only the certainty that she had existed remained, a footprint fading on sand.

It made no sense. A neighbor. He should remember.

Seeing Ouyang’s struggle, Dongze breathed out, relief like mist lifting. “If you can’t, don’t force it. The day will come.”

“Boss Dongze, you came to freeload just to tell me ‘you’ll remember someday’?” Loyin rubbed Ouyang’s temples. The ache eased like a tide going out. Ouyang felt there had to be a reason for the question. He couldn’t recall, but would Dongze forget? Dongze didn’t want to say. Ouyang didn’t ask. Asking now was drawing water with a sieve.

Loyin shot Dongze a look. Dongze coughed, then spoke. “Of course not. Freeloading is normal for me. This time I have real business.”

“You know the First Cult is the largest, widest-reaching group from the Other Shore…”

Ouyang nodded. Fact, solid as stone. In the Other Shore, the First Cult was everywhere. The Imperial Court led by His Majesty the God Emperor. The Starlight Legion under His Excellency the Sovereign. Both had First Cult members in their ranks.

In short, the First Cult is everywhere. That’s not exaggeration. That’s a map of reality.