The Crimson Tomb loomed before them, its ancient doors sealed shut by layers of cracked glyphs. Lines of blood-red runes pulsed faintly beneath the stone surface — fragments of ancient formation scripts long forgotten by most sects.
Only silence answered them as the wind howled through Ashlight Gorge.
🗝 The Puzzle
An inscription was carved into the stone:
"Only those who bleed, yet live; who remember, yet forget; may cross the gate of crimson memory."
Shui Fang furrowed her brows. "Some kind of memory-based formation. Possibly a soul-ward."
Lu Shuwei frowned. "Or a death trap. If we make the wrong offering, it might drain us."
Fang Xi studied the runes carefully. As he traced the broken formation lines with his fingers, the mark on his wrist pulsed faintly.
This isn't just a ward. It's an Echo lock.
Yun Zhao designed this himself.
The others argued in whispers behind him, but Fang Xi barely heard them. The mark's pulse became rhythmic… like a heartbeat.
🗣 The Whisper
And then, a voice—soft, like breath on the back of his mind:
"Cut. Bleed. Feed the seal."
He inhaled.
It wants blood infused with memory. Not raw Qi. Not life force. But anchored recollection.
He drew a thin blade across his palm, letting blood drip onto the central sigil.
As the blood touched the stone, the glyphs flared.
"Fang Xi! Stop—" Shui Fang called, but it was too late.
The seal ignited in crimson light — not exploding, but opening.
The doors parted with a groan.
The tomb had accepted him.
⚠ The Traitor Moves
As they stepped into the tomb, deeper into the cold blackness, the group's torches barely lit the twisting hallway.
Fang Xi noticed it instantly:
Yan Sui, walking slightly behind the others, slipped a small talisman into his sleeve. A tracking charm.
So. Not just a guest.
🏛 The Inner Chamber
After hours of careful descent, they reached the First Vault Chamber.
Inside were rows of black stone coffins, each one sealed by thick wax-like bindings of ancient formation script. Faint whispers filled the air — not words, but emotions.
Rage.
Regret.
Hunger.
The center platform held a towering obelisk of pure crimson crystal.
Shui Fang stepped forward, voice tight. "This is… this is a soul reservoir."
Lu Shuwei paled. "Impossible. These are forbidden even by the Grand Empires."
Yan Sui's smile grew wider in the dark.
Fang Xi felt the mark on his wrist burn hot. His breathing slowed. His vision blurred.
And in that moment — the voice returned, louder:
"You stand where my fragments sleep. Will you take them?"
The Decision
Fang Xi whispered in his mind:
Not yet. I'm not ready to carry your madness.
But part of him already craved what lay inside.
Suddenly, behind them, the ground rumbled.
A second entrance opening.
Han Yuren turned sharply. "We're not alone."
From the shadows, several black-cloaked figures emerged—unaffiliated rogue cultivators—smugglers and tomb raiders, drawn here by leaked information.
"You open the door, we take the prize," their leader sneered.
"Or you die."
⚔ The Battle Begins
Fang Xi's dagger appeared in his hand like a shadow's whisper.
He didn't flinch.
Let them come. The tomb will drink their memory too.