"No!" Mo Ran's voice, raw and desperate, pierced the cosmic chill, her hand reaching for his, her eyes fixed on his fading form as the vortex of non-existence descended, threatening to consume them all.
Han Ye fought it. Every fiber of his being screamed in defiance. This was not the quiet peace the Kosong Purba had once offered. This was a brutal, indifferent consumption. He channeled his Balance of Void, not to destroy the encroaching non-existence, but to anchor himself against it. He pushed out, not with raw power, but with the undeniable assertion of being. His spiritual energy flared, a desperate counter-pulse against the overwhelming nothingness.
"Hold the line!" Grand Elder Jiang roared, his voice hoarse, rallying the Alliance cultivators. They stood in a defensive perimeter arou
