2025-07-06 23:51:09
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Chapter 171. Gratitude.
More of the shadow beasts had emerged once more, but they stood no chance, for the warriors of the Hollow Gate sect were prepared.The night was heavy with smoke and screams. Even from deep inside the fortress, Kirin could feel the faint tremors of steel clashing against steel, the echoes of battle still raging far above. The corridors stank of blood, sweat, and old rot. But down here, in the underbelly of the prison, the chaos hadn’t yet crawled this deep. It was too buried, too forgotten. The silence was unsettling, as though the war outside had no business reaching this far.Kirin moved quietly, his boots sliding across the stone floor. He had waited until the cover of nightfall, until the guards were too distracted by the slaughter above to notice one shadow slipping down into the cells. His body ached from the fights earlier, but his mind was sharp, focused on the single task burning inside him.He remembered Vael’s words, the final exchange between them before parting ways just
Chapter 170. The Cultivator’s Choice.
The world was fire.Kirin’s lungs burned from smoke, the stench of ash and shadow choking the air. The cavern of the Sanctuary shook as another wave of shadow beasts surged in, their howls ripping through stone, their bodies writhing with black flame. He swung his blade until his arms screamed, but the tide never ended. For every beast he cut down, three more crawled out from the fissures in the walls.Aza’s voice cut through the chaos.“Kirin, your left!”He spun, blade clashing against jagged claws, the impact rattling his bones. Beside him, Shen staggered, his spear dripping with dark blood, his face pale, drained. They were all bleeding, all near collapse.And then the cavern cracked open with light.A rift tore through the air like a wound, shredding the battlefield into silence. The shadow beasts froze mid lunge. A golden portal flared, and from it stepped Vael.Not walking but descending.His robes carried the shimmer of runes, his staff glowing faintly, his eyes cold as winter
Chapter 169. The Day the Ground Bled.
Kirin hadn’t trained in two days.That in itself was unusual. Training was usually the only thing that kept him sane, every repetition, every swing of a blade, every pulse of Qi forced his mind into structure. But after that dream, the one that left his chest hollow and his skin cold, even the thought of sparring made his stomach twist. He didn’t want to pick up a sword. He didn’t want to focus his breath. He didn’t even want to look at the Hollow Gate.He sat alone by the shallow pond at the edge of the sanctuary grounds, tossing pebbles into the water. Each ripple broke the perfect reflection of the red sky above. His hands shook when he touched the water, like the dream had burned something into him that he couldn’t wash away.He kept telling himself it was just a dream. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw it again, the Ashborne crying out, the chains pulling tighter, the blood raining down like an endless storm. He woke up sweating, nails dug into his palms so hard they brok
Chapter 168. A World of Chains.
Kirin’s body hit the floor the moment Eron dismissed him. His limbs felt like they belonged to someone else, heavy, stiff, and bruised. Anchorless martial arts were not like anything he had ever tried before. There was no rhythm, no predictable flow, no balance to lean on. Every strike demanded raw instinct, not memorized forms. His muscles screamed from the strain, his lungs burned as if he had swallowed fire, and his bones felt cracked from within.Eron had told him this was only the beginning. That to walk without an anchor was to fight with nothing but the weight of one’s will. No essence, no sword, no cultivation, no mercy. Kirin thought he understood, until the training broke him down to this.He staggered into the corner of his small room, collapsed against the wall, and let exhaustion drag him under.Sleep did not bring him peace.It dragged him into the same nightmare that had stalked him ever since he came to the underworld: the prison of chains.This time, it was different.
Chapter 167. The Ghost Cultivator.
The days after his talk with Vael felt heavy. Kirin walked through the corridors of the Hollow Gate sanctuary with a storm on his face, but his silence spoke louder than any words. He had seen the Ashborne locked in that cell. It had looked back at him with those burning, empty eyes, a mirror of his own curse, a beast that was both alive and dead at the same time.And Vael, calm as always, had denied knowing how it got there.Kirin didn’t buy it. Not for a second.But what good was not believing when he had no proof, no strength, no authority? He could shout his doubts to the whole sanctuary, but all it would earn him was a swift death at the hands of the Hollow Gate sect. The truth was as simple as it was bitter, he was still too weak.He hated that feeling powerless. Like a dog barking at chains he couldn’t break.So for the next few days, he simmered in silence. He trained, ate, slept, but his mind never stopped pacing. His fists clenched until his knuckles cracked. The Ashborne’s
Chapter 166. Blades and Truth.
The image of the Ashborne locked behind blackened bars refused to leave Kirin’s mind. He had seen many cruel things in the underworld, demons devouring their own kin, tortured spirits clawing at eternity but nothing stung him as deeply as the sight of that creature, chained like an animal.It wasn’t just pity. The Ashborne was more than a monster, it was proof. Proof of what the Sanctuary hid, proof that Vael was keeping secrets. And secrets had teeth.Kirin walked the length of the Sanctuary’s stone corridor, his footsteps heavy, his jaw tight. Torches burned dim along the walls, their flames wavering in the stale underground air. He didn’t wait to calm himself. He didn’t plan his words. He pushed open the doors to Vael’s chambers with a force that made them slam against the stone.Vael was there, seated at his desk, quill in hand. The man didn’t even flinch. His silver hair fell neatly across his shoulders, his black robes untouched by dust or sweat. Only his eyes lifted, cold and p
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