The shriek of burning air still rang through the Hollow Bastion as Rael and Yue Qingshi leapt from the canyon's edge, descending through layers of mist and bone into the churning chaos below.
Rael's coat flared behind him, soaked with lingering blood Qi from his last training bout. Beside him, Yue drifted downward like a falling lotus petal—graceful, but undeniably dangerous. Lunar Qi shimmered faintly around her fingers.
Flames tore through the air beneath them.
Not natural fire.
This was Soulfire—a twisted blend of stolen essence and unstable martial intent.
[Alert: Trial Vault integrity compromised.
Vault Lock: Level 2 Breach
Current Raiders: Unknown Cultivators (4)
Vault Guardians: Unresponsive]
Rael's jaw tightened.
"Why raid the trial vault? There's no core treasures left—only records."
Yue's silver eyes flashed. "Exactly. And what if someone doesn't want those records seen?"
---
They landed on a fractured platform carved into the canyon wall.
Before them, three corpses lay sprawled—inner disciples, judging by their uniforms. Each bore a clean wound across the throat. No spiritual fluctuation. No fight.
Assassins.
Silent kill technique.
Rael knelt beside one, brushing a finger against the congealed blood. He frowned.
"Too clean. Too fast. Their defense talismans weren't even activated."
Yue Qingshi raised her hand, conjuring a sphere of silvery light. It hovered above the corpse and pulsed softly.
[Emotion Echo – Activated]
The image of a cloaked figure flashed—featureless, wielding a hooked dagger coated in jade-green mist.
And then, nothing.
Rael exhaled.
"Poison Qi. From the southern coasts. But not local."
"Foreign cultivators?" Yue murmured.
"No," Rael said, standing. "Not foreigners. Ghost Hands."
She tensed. "Those are just rumors."
"No. They're failed sect experiments. Killed in secret. But some survived."
---
The two moved quickly through the ruptured halls.
The once-silent corridors of the Bastion were now crawling with strange movement. Shadowy figures flickered past corners. Screams echoed—abrupt and short-lived.
Yet no alarms rang.
Rael spotted two more inner disciples pinned to a ceiling by bone needles.
Each bore the same mark seared into their flesh—a black crescent over a cracked skull.
He recognized it. Barely.
A rogue faction from the Sect's forbidden dungeons—the Drowned Shade Cult. Exiles. Madmen.
And someone had let them out.
---
They reached the Trial Vault.
It was half open.
Guardians—constructs of bone and ash—lay scattered across the floor like broken puppets. Spiritual light still pulsed within their chests, flickering erratically.
Rael stepped inside.
The inner chamber was a circular space filled with crystalline tablets—records of past trials, sect failures, and forbidden techniques.
But someone had already begun burning them.
A cloaked figure turned as they entered. His face was hidden beneath a cracked bone mask, and his hands glowed with the corrupted green flame of death Qi.
"You shouldn't be here," the man rasped.
Yue Qingshi stepped forward, her fingers blooming with silver light. "You're destroying our future."
"No," the man said. "I'm correcting it."
Then he moved.
---
Rael reacted before the masked man struck, dashing to the side as a whip of death Qi tore the air where he'd just stood. The strike shattered three tablets behind him—fragments skittering across the floor.
Yue raised both hands, forming twin crescents of Lunar Qi. She stepped in front of Rael without hesitation, launching a silent arc of light at the intruder's head.
The man deflected it with a twist of his arm, redirecting the silver into a glowing urn. It hissed, absorbing the light.
Rael's eyes narrowed.
"That urn... it's a soul vessel."
The man chuckled.
"Very good, boy. You learn fast."
Rael darted forward, his boots barely touching the ground. He lashed out with a bone spear forged from his own blood.
The masked man caught it barehanded.
Then his fingers crushed it.
Rael spun low, ducking under the counterstrike and slashing upward with a dagger formed from crystallized ash essence.
It cut.
The man staggered—blood flickering across the air in an unnatural spray.
---
Yue moved in next. Her attacks weren't brute force—but precision.
Each silver needle targeted a meridian, a pressure point, a spiritual weak zone.
Three hit.
The man gasped, stumbling.
But then he laughed.
"You're too late. The purge has begun."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the urn into the vault core.
"No!" Yue shouted.
Rael leapt.
But it was too late.
The urn shattered.
And with it, the sealed spirits of dozens of dead disciples were released—all twisted into echoing shades.
A storm of spectral hands rose from the floor, tearing at reality itself.
[Emergency Condition Triggered: Spiritstorm Level 3]
Corrupted spirits detected. Area integrity unstable.
Exit protocol suggested: 43 seconds.
---
Rael acted instantly.
"Cover me!"
Yue formed a dome of silver light, shielding the inner wall of the chamber.
Rael reached into the broken ash of the vault guardians, pulling loose a fragment of formation crystal. He didn't know the exact inscription—but he could guess.
He burned his own blood into the pattern and activated it.
"Ash binds ash. Bone returns to bone."
The room screamed.
Spirits tore into each other, locked in forced fusion. The storm howled, imploding inward.
And then—
Silence.
---
Smoke drifted around them.
The masked intruder was gone—vanished in the collapse.
Only a single fragment of his cracked mask remained, half-buried in ash.
Rael picked it up.
On its underside, etched so small it was nearly invisible, was a name:
"Ren Yao – Failed Successor."
Yue Qingshi stepped beside him.
"That name… I've heard it before."
"Where?"
"In the Yue Clan's sealed scrolls. He was supposed to be the next patriarch. Until he vanished."
Rael stared at the broken vault around them.
And the pieces began to fall into place.
This wasn't just an internal rebellion.
It was a message.
And someone wanted the entire sect to burn.