Waves crashed against the coastal cliff, their roar a pulse that shook the earth, spraying salt and foam into a sky torn by stormclouds. The wind howled, raw and unforgiving, carrying a scent of brine and something deeper, something that tugged at the soul like an undertow. Beyond the cliff's jagged edge, where the sea churned black and endless, a rift surged—an indigo vortex that pulsed with a force that could swallow the horizon whole. The Deep Tide, the thirty-ninth force, had risen, its boundless tide of infinite power a ceaseless call to drown all that Lin Feng held steadfast in its depths.