As the massive stone door creaked open, the stale breath of ancient air hit them like a wave. The chamber beyond was darker than night, an endless void that seemed to suck in light. The markings on the floor glowed faintly—lines etched with silver that pulsed in a rhythmic pattern, like the heartbeat of the tomb itself.
Tianming stepped forward, eyes narrowing. Every instinct screamed caution, but the Seal lay somewhere within. He couldn’t stop now.
Song Rui smirked as he followed, keeping a careful distance. “Funny, isn't it? How fate keeps throwing us into the same holes.”
“Fate had nothing to do with it,” Tianming muttered. “You’re just a parasite chasing power.”
Song Rui chuckled. “And you're what—some noble savior? Please. You're just like me. The only difference is, I stopped pretending a long time ago.”
As they entered the Vault of Shadows, the light from Dr. Jin’s device flickered, then cut out entirely.
“Dead,” he whispered. “Some kind of magnetic field. We’re blind.”
A metallic clang echoed from deeper within.
Xu Liang drew a blade from beneath his coat, its edge gleaming in what little ambient light remained. “Everyone stay close. The traps here won’t give you a second chance.”
Suddenly, a shriek ripped through the darkness, followed by the sound of something metal slicing through air.
“DOWN!” Tianming roared, grabbing Fang and yanking her to the floor just as a spinning blade whirled overhead, narrowly missing their necks.
A second trap activated—arrows launched from the walls in a perfect crisscross. Zhao dove behind a pillar, yanking Dr. Jin with him. One arrow grazed Tianming’s arm, drawing a line of blood, but he didn’t flinch.
Fang rolled to her feet and pulled two thin daggers from her sleeves. “Where the hell are these even being powered from?!”
Xu Liang sliced through a swinging chain that nearly decapitated him, the sparks from his blade illuminating the symbols lining the ceiling. “These markings—they’re guides. The pattern’s in the ceiling. Step where the silver lines touch.”
Tianming took the lead, blood dripping from his forearm, his senses heightened beyond belief. His mind was a war drum, thundering with purpose. Step. Dodge. Lunge.
Each movement was exact. Precise. Controlled chaos.
Song Rui was behind them, using their path as his own. Tianming could hear the smug bastard’s breath—steady, unfazed. He hated how calm he always sounded, even in a place like this.
At last, they reached the center chamber. Here, no traps waited. Only a pedestal, carved from obsidian, and on it—a scroll sealed in black wax, pulsing with crimson veins of energy.
Dr. Jin gasped. “The Seal of Memory. It’s real.”
Tianming approached cautiously. “What does it do?”
“The legends say it holds knowledge of the Eight Forgotten Clans,” Dr. Jin whispered, voice trembling. “Whoever breaks the seal gains their collective memories… and with it, immense power.”
Song Rui laughed softly from the shadows. “Then let’s not waste time.”
He lunged.
But Tianming was ready.
He twisted low, dodging Song Rui’s punch by mere inches, then retaliated with a fierce elbow to Rui’s ribs. The force sent Rui stumbling back, but not down.
Rui retaliated instantly, sweeping his leg forward in a vicious arc. Tianming leapt over it, spun in midair, and landed a spinning back kick to Song Rui’s chest.
Rui slammed against the wall, coughing, but smiled through bloodied teeth. “You’re getting better.”
Tianming didn’t reply. His breathing was even, his stance solid—left leg back, hands up, weight on the balls of his feet.
Rui darted forward again, throwing a fast right hook. Tianming blocked with his left arm and drove a sharp punch into Rui’s solar plexus. Rui grunted, then grabbed Tianming’s collar and headbutted him hard.
The impact sent Tianming staggering, vision spinning—but only for a second. He wiped the blood from his nose, eyes burning.
“No more games,” he growled.
He charged, this time with precision. Rui swung again, but Tianming ducked low, swept Rui’s legs, and as Rui fell backward, Tianming’s knee came crashing into his chest.
CRACK.
Rui gasped, wind knocked out of him. He tried to get up—but Tianming’s foot pressed on his throat.
“I don’t need to kill you,” Tianming said coldly. “But I won’t let you take this.”
“You’re making a mistake…” Rui choked out.
“Maybe,” Tianming muttered, “but at least it’s my choice.”
He released the pressure and turned to the Seal.
But then—
A voice echoed from the shadows. A new voice.
“You’re all fools if you think this is the end.”
Out of the darkness stepped a man none of them had seen before. Tall. Cloaked. His aura was suffocating.
“Who are you?” Fang demanded.
The stranger grinned. “I am the Shadow Envoy. The Lotus Clan answers to me.”
Tianming’s blood turned cold.
And then the Seal began to pulse brighter—reacting to the new arrival.