The night clung to Shu Mountain like a wounded beast, its obsidian claws raking moonlight into tattered silver threads. Zhao Rui crouched atop Solitary Cloud Peak, the Tomb Passage Token cold against his palm—an artifact that had pulsed with celestial fire for centuries now lay dormant, its hunger unquenched by the anemic glow above.
"Third full moon," he muttered to the uncaring stars. Below, Sun Xiaolan's swordplay wove luminous patterns across training grounds, her newly forged meridians resonating with borrowed power. The dissonance between her ascendant grace and the heavens' decay gnawed at him.
Whispers in the Alchemical Crucible
Dawn found Zhao in the Hall of Whispering Flames, where Li Lingfeng distilled truth from herbal smoke.
"The lunar decay began with spring's first blossom," the Sword Saint intoned, jade pestle grinding starroot into bitter powder. "My disciples report darkened tides in the Eastern Sea, yao beasts abandoning ancestral caves. Even the Three-Legged Crow flees its celestial post."
Zhao's fingers traced cracks in a divination tortoise shell. "You suspect earthly matters?"
"All omens point to mortal realms." Li's gaze drifted westward where stormclouds bruise-hued the horizon. "Yet the Demon Suppression Pagoda's bells remain silent. This corruption wears a familiar face..."
Serpent's Exodus
The revelation came cloaked in chaos. Mysterious Sage Xuanying's departure scroll arrived reeking of burnt feathers, its characters bleeding urgency:
"Seventeen forges extinguished. Nine vaults plundered. The Shadowed Hammer moves."
Zhao found the alchemist's abandoned workshop strewn with half-formed artifacts—a jade compass needle spinning ceaselessly northeast, a bronze mirror reflecting only void where the moon should dwell. Beneath an overturned cauldron, claw marks deeper than dragon talons scarred the floor.
Dance of the Hollow Moon
That night, Zhao climbed Shu's highest observatory. Through a telescope forged from phoenix tear crystal, the lunar surface revealed its betrayal—veins of obsidian corruption spiderwebbing across silver plains.
"Brother Zhao!" Dun Che's vulpine snout nudged his elbow. "The foxfires dim two hours early. Even the mountain's guardian qilin paces its cage."
As if summoned, Li Jingyan materialized from shadowed colonnades. "This humble disciple noticed..." His voice oozed honey over daggers. "...the Hall of Ancestral Blades now requires torches at midday. Most curious."
Zhao's Tomb Passage Token flared—a dying ember's final protest.
Crimson Threads
In forbidden archives reeking of moth-eaten prophecies, Zhao pieced together the tapestry:
Year of the Metal Tiger: A nameless sect's sacrifice blighted lunar cycles for seven generationsDragon-Wolf Convergence: The Blood Moon Heresy's practitioners drained celestial essence to fuel undying legionsPresent Cycle: Ledgers documenting missing yin-aligned artifacts—Jade Rabbit Mortars, Moonlit Zithers, Nine-Layered Yin Compasses
Sun Xiaolan found him at dawn, fingers stained with ink and something darker. "You're chasing shadows," she murmured, her Veilblade's hilt frost-kissed from nocturnal vigil.
"Shadows cast by very real monsters," Zhao countered, showing her a sketch of claw marks matching Xuanying's workshop. "This theft spans continents. Only one force possesses such reach..."
Eclipse Rising
The confrontation erupted at the Whispering Marketplace. Beneath paper lanterns bleeding crimson light, Zhao cornered a hooded figure bartering a moon-silver dagger.
"Last autumn's theft from Mount Kunlun," he accused, the dagger's hilt bearing the smothered moon sigil. "Who commands you?"
The thief's laughter peeled skin from bone—a sound no human throat could produce. "The Forge demands kindling, Stormcaller. Even stars must burn."
Their duel painted the night in fractured hues. When the assassin dissolved into ash, only a jade hairpin remained—its craftsmanship unmistakably demonic, yet bearing the faded crest of Dragon-Tiger Mountain.
Epiphany at Sword's Edge
Li Lingfeng awaited him at the Celestial Chain Bridge, the Veilblade's point hovering at Sun Xiaolan's throat.
"You see now?" The Sword Saint's eyes reflected broken constellations. "What devours light seeks the ultimate shadow. Your tomb raiding artifact..."
Zhao's grip tightened on the Tomb Passage Token. "...isn't broken. The moon is."