The airship's deck hummed beneath Kai Shen's feet, its wooden planks polished by years of frost and wind. The vessel sliced through the icy skies of the Frost Ridge, its sails shimmering with glyphs that harnessed the region's relentless spiritual ice qi. Below sprawled the Northern Town—or what remained of it. A wasteland of shattered stone stretched endlessly, the skeletal remnants of a once-thriving city. Crumbled towers, half-buried streets, and jagged spires jutted from the snow, their edges softened by time but sharp with desolation. The qi here was a suffocating weight, twisting in unnatural eddies, screaming with echoes of rage, pain, and terror. Kai's chest tightened, his fire qi a faint ember against the oppressive cold.
"Creepy," Kai sighed, gripping the railing, his breath fogging in the chill.
"A battle between two cultivators, obviously," Fen huffed, her feathers ruffled on his shoulder.
Kai glanced at her, the ice phoenix's owl-like form absurdly cute despite her grim tone. Her moonlit eyes darted nervously, betraying a fear she wouldn't voice. For half an hour, they'd flown over this graveyard of a city, its scale humbling. The qi pressed like an angry master's aura, its distorted flows clawing at his mind. Whispers—faint at first—grew into shrieks of anguish, a psychic scar left by the cataclysm that erased this place.
"I'm starting to see why you begged me to skip this," Kai said, his voice low.
Fen's tiny frame puffed up, cartoonish yet defiant. "You don't get it at all, Kai Shen. There's still time to back out."
Kai shook his head, a wry smile tugging his lips. Fen had tried to dissuade him from entering the Tomb of the Departed so many times he'd lost count. Her refusals to explain why gnawed at him, her secrecy a mirror to his own guarded nature. He'd considered heeding her—until So Yun, Aina, Tia Lin, and even Belozar assured him the tomb's trials, designed for Qi Condensation practitioners, posed no real threat to his enhanced physique. Many had survived, even those below rank 10. Still, the qi's malevolent weight and Fen's unease fueled a growing dread.
The airship's deck was empty save for Kai and Fen, the other disciples hiding below, their spirits pressed by the Northern Town's distorted qi. Headaches plagued them, a warning of the place's power. Kai endured, his spiritual resilience a quiet defiance, though his thoughts drifted to absurd places—cartoon pirates, Fen as his parrot. The shipboard setting begged for levity, but the atmosphere crushed any humor.
"You're not changing my mind, Fen," Kai said, his tone firm.
She hooted, mimicking an owl, her disapproval clear. "Uhuu!"
Kai's lips twitched. Over the past year, Fen had shifted from plotting his death to fretting over his safety. Her concern, however small, warmed him in this cold world where allies were few. He mentally checked his gear: healing pills bartered from disciples, his sword at his waist, Night Blade talismans from the Phoenix Sect's master, and his trump card:
Fire Whip
Rank: Mortal
Effect: Creates a stream of condensed flame. Control depends on user skill.
Qi Reserve: 362/362
The artifact, scavenged upon arriving in the Frost Ridge, had saved him once. Refilling its qi had been a chore, but it was ready. Fire qi leaked even from the artifact here, a reminder of the Ridge's hostility to his element. His experiments to gather fire qi—burning scarce wood, studying bath formations—had failed. The Ridge devoured fire qi faster than he could absorb it, forcing reliance on spirit stones. His ring held 400,000, a fortune that both awed and unsettled him.
The ship descended, the qi's pressure intensifying. Three cultivators, the tomb's caretakers, greeted them, their faces gaunt, skin greenish, eyes shadowed by exhaustion. Exiles sent here for minor crimes, their punishment was this forsaken post, a chance to earn redemption through suffering.
"Master Belozar," they bowed. "Pokoys are prepared. Disciples may enter now or rest."
"No need to linger," Belozar grimaced, scanning the fifty-three Qi Condensation disciples—mostly Sword Pavilion members, a few strangers. Their eyes burned with resolve, not fear, but anticipation. Kai wondered: did they grasp the tomb's lethality, or were they blinded by the promise of treasures?
"Listen up," Belozar said, his gaze piercing each disciple. "I've explained this, but again: inside is a labyrinth. Traps, spiritual entities, anything. Survive and reach the center for a reward. Fail, and you die. I can't save you due to the tomb's restrictions. Keep artifacts or trade them to the sect for points. Study techniques, but the sect will reward copying them. Once inside, there's no turning back. Anyone rethinking?"
Fen hooted, glaring at Kai. He suppressed an eye-roll. "Not backing out."
"Interesting spirit beast, Kai Shen," Belozar smirked.
No one retreated; the disciples' eyes gleamed with greed. Belozar's final warning chilled Kai: "You're not rivals inside. If I hear of anyone turning a blade on a comrade, I'll bring Heaven's wrath upon them."
Kai bristled—why was Belozar staring at him? He'd never betrayed anyone. Questions died as Belozar signaled, and disciples surged toward the tomb's entrance, a gray stone monolith etched with glowing glyphs: Tomb of the Departed. Kai followed, blending in.
The entrance was a wide arch, shrouded in qi-fog. Fen's claws dug into his shoulder, her owl act now desperate. Kai sensed the fog's density—pure qi, a barrier. Glancing back, he saw no retreat; the fog sealed the way out.
"Signed up for this," Kai sighed, stepping forward.
The fog hit like a shovel to the skull. Disorientation gripped him, followed by a crushing spiritual pressure. His knees buckled, but he stood firm. "What the hell? No one mentioned this!"
"Happy now? I told you not to come!" Fen snapped, shrinking into a tiny ball, eyes darting.
"Been here before?" Kai asked, not expecting an answer.
Fen huffed, turning to stare at the wall. Kai summoned a light orb, grinning as it hovered above his palm. Formations sparked a childlike joy in him, a magic purer than his fire techniques. "Works!"
"I can do that!" Fen declared. A blinding flash forced Kai to squint. "Oops!"
Her light orb had exploded, a recurring flaw in her training. Kai chuckled. "Not bad for a combat formation. Disorient multiple foes, especially in dim light."
"My idea!" Fen puffed up. "Not a mistake!"
"Sure," Kai laughed.
The chamber was stark—gray walls, floor, ceiling, no patterns, no enemies. A long corridor led to a dead end. Kai had pictured a twisting labyrinth, not this linear path.
"Could we have teleported as a group if we held hands?" Kai mused.
"Cultivators are weird," Fen drawled. "Gonna stand here forever? Since you're in, try getting out."
Kai walked forward, toying with the light orb. It danced at his command, annoying Fen—jealousy or irritation, he couldn't tell. Her huffy snorts made him relent, anchoring the orb behind him, infused with qi. Even formations bled fire qi here, a reminder of the Ridge's prison-like nature.
"Careful!" Fen shrieked. Kai froze, foot mid-air.
"Trap. Pressure plate, there," she pointed a wing.
Ten meters ahead, a faint seam marked the floor. Kai nodded—her warning was timely. Using his sword, he triggered the plate. Metal spikes erupted, razor-sharp. He dodged, heart racing.
"Basic," Kai sighed, advancing.
"Basic? Why trigger it? Just walk around!" Fen fumed. "What if it was poison?"
"Poison traps here?" Kai seized her slip.
"No idea," Fen muttered, looking away. "I told you not to come!"
"Keep your secrets," Kai said, shaking his head.
Three more traps—avoided, not triggered—led to a small chamber with three doors. At its center sat a humanoid figure of spiritual ice, headless, its core pulsing in its chest. Wandering Ice, per the Fort's library. Harmless if you hit the core, which Kai sensed instantly.
Activating Acceleration, he surged forward, sword blazing with fire aura. A single strike shattered the core, the ice collapsing into his ring. A system message appeared:
+35 Qi
"Nice haul," Kai murmured, feeling a soothing wave ease his spiritual wounds. Master Lu's vendetta had confined him to the Fort, his spies a constant shadow. Here, enemies could fuel his growth.
The Devourer technique, level 1, beckoned. Upgrading it to level 2 required 1,000 qi—a risk, given his past near-death experience with Pure Flame Song. But a single level? He could handle it. Spirit stones flew from his ring, dissolving into his body. Pain flared, tolerable at first, then excruciating. The world blackened.
When he opened his eyes, a message glowed:
Technique "Devourer" reached Level 2!
Efficiency of all effects increased!
No new spiritual damage, thankfully. The vague "efficiency" boost was unclear, but the pain lingered. He wouldn't repeat this soon.
"Stupid?" Fen screeched, perched on his chest. He was sprawled on the floor. "You absorbed tons of qi—I thought you'd burst! Then screamed and passed out! In here, where cultivators die like flies!"
"You're protecting me," Kai grinned, catching her flustered look.
"Too trusting for someone who wants to survive," Fen huffed. "So Yun said that about you!"
"If So Yun said it," Kai nodded. "How long was I out?"
"Three seconds. What was that? Secret technique? Insanity? Heavenly insight?"
"Tell me why I shouldn't be here?"
Fen glared, silent.
"Which door?" Kai asked, eyeing the identical exits.
"Doesn't matter," Fen sniffed, resuming her perch. "Open one, you'll see."
Kai pushed a door, revealing qi-fog. A glance at Fen's sulky face confirmed her knowledge—and her refusal to share. He stepped into the fog, ready for whatever lay beyond.