Meng Bai was torn backward, flying through the air into Lin Mu’s arms. His breathing was ragged, body cold from the sea’s touch, but the spell was broken.

The others stepped back from the shore, gasping as if a weight had lifted from their chests.

"What in the heavens was that?" Daoist Chu asked, placing a hand to his forehead.

Elyon was scanning the waters, his senses sharp.

"There!" he said suddenly, pointing.

Out in the mist, on the distant island, a figure stood.

She was beautiful beyond words—tall and willowy, with skin like moonstone and hair that flowed like ink across her bare shoulders. She stood in the shallows, staring directly at them, her eyes luminous and void-like.

A siren.

"A real siren..." Elyon breathed. "But that’s impossible. The last of them were thought extinct ages ago. I’ve only ever heard of them in legends. They no longer exist on this world."

Lin Mu narrowed his gaze. "So they’re not just myths."

"Even if they aren’t, a Siren shouldn’t be in a place like this. They live in proper seas and oceans, not a foul place like this." Daoist Chu’s mind stirred as he recalled the information.

But he didn’t get to think for long as the Siren made her move.

The siren lifted her head, her song rising once more. This time it was stronger, the very sea vibrating with its rhythm. Pale shapes swam beneath the waves, circling beneath her feet—serpentine creatures, perhaps guardians or the remnants of the siren’s kin.

The melody echoed across the sea:

Come, child of silence, child of storm,

Bathe in seas where hearts are warm.

Drop your burdens, let them sink,

Where old stars drown and shadows drink...

Come where echoes birth the sky,

Where fallen swords in stillness lie.

A kiss for those who’ve lost the flame,

A grave for those without a name...

One step, one dream, one soul to mend,

The tide will cradle, the tide will end.

Rest in arms of endless blue,

The sea remembers more than you...

Daoist Chu stepped back. "This is no ordinary spirit. Her voice is targeting our very Dao hearts. If Meng Bai had gone just a bit farther..."

"He’d be lost," Elyon finished grimly.

Lin Mu’s eyes never left the siren. She made no move to come closer, but her song promised that she didn’t need to.

"She’s not trying to kill us," Lin Mu said slowly. "She’s trying to take us with her... forever."

The group fell silent.

Then Lin Mu spoke again, voice firm.

"I’ll deal with this, you all stay back."

The waves fell still.

The siren’s song lingered in the air, humming through the bones of the earth and whispering just below the threshold of hearing.

Though they were further inland now, even the campfire flickered uneasily, as if reacting to the ethereal power bleeding from the distant island. The haunting voice tugged at their minds again, more persistent, more seductive.

Lin Mu stood tall, his robes swaying with the sea breeze, eyes calm yet resolute.

With a deep breath, he brought his palms together in front of his chest and began to chant the words of the Calming Heart Sutra. But Lin Mu’s intent now was different: to use the Sutra as a mental bulwark, a shield for his companions against the siren’s soul-piercing song.

His voice was steady and clear, resonating with quiet power.

"Let thy heart be as the moonlit pond—unmoving, clear, and deep. Release all suffering, and awaken to the boundless stillness beyond form."

A wave of serene energy pulsed from him like a gentle tide, enveloping Meng Bai, Elyon, and Daoist Chu. They felt the weight lift from their chests, the cloudiness retreat from their minds. Their breathing steadied. Even Meng Bai, still pale from his brush with the siren’s influence, found his legs firm once more beneath him.

The song still lingered—but its claws were dulled.

"That should keep it from reaching you," Lin Mu said softly. "I’ll finish this."

He stepped forward, lifting his hand as his Sword Dao began to stir. A shimmering aura of invisible blades gathered around him, ready to strike. His Sword Cradle Divine Sheath pulsed on his back, eager for battle.

But just as he raised his hand to attack, a piercing sound cut through the night.

A shrill whistle.

High-pitched, unnatural—and fast.

The very air seemed to bend from the sheer velocity of the object.

Lin Mu immediately stepped back, instincts screaming. His eyes darted to the island just as an explosion erupted from its center.

The sea heaved, sending a massive wave outward. The island cracked like a dried husk, smoke and stone flying in every direction. The siren let out a scream—not of beauty this time, but of agony.

And she changed.

Her perfect form twisted.

The porcelain skin cracked and sloughed off, revealing mottled, pale-blue scales. Her face split unnaturally as rows of jagged teeth jutted from a widened jaw. Her luminous eyes turned into glowing red slits, and her silken hair writhed like seaweed.

Her body grew larger, grotesque, limbs elongating, webbing tearing from wrists and thighs. Her song, once enchanting, became a horrid wail—a cry of something ancient, lonely, and full of wrath.

"What in the heavens..." Daoist Chu whispered, recoiling in disgust and awe.

Another fluctuation of power brushed against Lin Mu’s perception. He focused sharply, tracking the ripple in space.

There—a flash.

Something small and round tore through the air, moving faster than most techniques he had seen. It glimmered silver-blue in the moonlight and glowed faintly with immortal qi.

"A... marble?" Lin Mu wondered aloud, bewildered.

But the thing struck again—boom!

A second explosion rocked the already shattered island. The monstrous siren screamed and narrowly evaded the blow, her flesh singed and dripping. Her song faltered further, now only a shattered echo of her former grace.

"Pesky monster," a voice said, rich and confident.

Lin Mu turned.

From the opposite side of the coast, a figure approached, leaping from stone to stone with incredible agility.