1. Between Realms
Most cultivators never even see the Realm of Life.
Some say it was sealed by the Nameless One himself, a realm too volatile, too pure, too ancient for flawed beings to touch. But the Godless Banner didn't care.
They didn't knock.
They found a backdoor.
A tear between layers of spirit, hidden beneath the bones of an extinct beast that once guarded fate itself.
Six figures in black cloaks stood before the rift. Their auras were restrained, their presence nearly erased.
Floating above them?
The Proxy.
Still sealed in chains made of god-metal and regret, eyes closed, face featureless.
"Send it in first," the tattooed man whispered. "Let it drink the realm before he arrives."
They opened the rift.
And something screamed on the other side.
2. The Realm of Life (Distorted)
The Proxy stepped into a land of colorless nature.
The Realm of Life didn't look alive at all.
It looked forgotten.
Vast rivers of white fire flowed across broken landscapes. Trees floated upside down, pulsing like hearts. The sky was black glass, reflecting versions of the people inside.
Even gods wouldn't walk here casually.
But the Proxy didn't breathe, didn't react, didn't care.
It moved.
And with every step it took, the land rejected it.
Lightning coiled toward its body and shattered. Sacred Qi tried to bind it and failed. Ancient vines attempted to strangle it—but withered to ash on contact.
Behind it, the cultists followed carefully, casting Reality-Stabilizing Talismans and draining the realm's essence like blood.
They planted a seed.
Not of life.
But of anti-life.
A dark tree began to grow. Its fruit?
Was nothing.
3. The Nameless Warning
The eyeless woman, one of the high priests, suddenly collapsed to her knees.
"Something's watching us."
The others turned.
Carved into the cliffside nearby was a statue they hadn't noticed before.
A statue of a hooded figure.
Nameless.
No face. No inscription.
But a single symbol carved beneath its feet:
⟡
The same symbol that had appeared in the sky above the coliseum.
The tattooed man stepped closer—and the statue's head snapped in his direction.
Cracks split the ground instantly.
The Proxy didn't flinch.
It raised its head and looked toward the sky, as if sensing something only it could feel.
And in a flat, impossible voice, it spoke:
"Lee Haneul approaches."
4. What Lies Beneath
Beneath the realm, in a cavern of inverse Qi, the cultists laid their final trap.
A flesh-forged spirit bomb, created by sacrificing cursed cultivators too broken to live.
It wasn't meant to kill Haneul.
It was designed to rip his third Dantian apart.
To destroy the Life Core before it could fully awaken.
"If he walks into this realm with all three synced," said the tattooed man, "he becomes the second Nameless."
"We can't allow that."
He drew blood across his own tongue and whispered:
"Let the Realm of Life become a tomb."
5. The Wind Changes
Suddenly, everything stopped.
The realm held its breath.
Above them, at the edge of the horizon, a ripple split the sky.
Not an attack.
A presence.
Silent.
Immovable.
Coming closer.
"He's entered," whispered the Proxy.
The tattooed man grinned, even as sweat ran down his neck.
"Then let the second phase begin."