East of the Compassion Sea.
A colossal Nautilus crawled slowly forward on its tentacles, as if chasing the setting sun.
The water here was a thousand zhang deep, far from any shallow-sea region.
Yet, even as it stood on the ocean floor, half of its body remained exposed above the surface.
Its smooth, disc-like shell with reddish-brown stripes was on full display.
"The Relic has closed."
A middle-aged man in a Crane Cloak stood atop the Nautilus, his hands clasped behind his back.
His gaze drifted toward the horizon, yet seemed to land somewhere far beyond. In a calm, measured voice, he said, "But I still can't sense Huang'Er's life lamp."
"It seems he's never coming back."
His words carried no emotion, neither sadness nor anger.
He was as calm as if he were reading from a script.
The Nautilus beneath his feet, however, faltered for a moment before quickly resuming its forward crawl with a wave of its tentacles.
