The crimson mist thickened, coiling like living serpents around the stone coffins. The two bone constructs fully emerged — hollow skulls glowing with dim red embers, blades of bone growing from their twisted arms.
The rogue cultivators froze.
They're trapped.
And so are we, Fang Xi thought — but his lips curled slightly.
For him, the tomb was no longer a threat.
It was a tool.
⚔ Fang Xi Commands the Tomb
As the Echo Mark flared hotter on his wrist, the bone constructs paused mid-charge. For a moment, their heads tilted toward Fang Xi — not attacking, but waiting.
The others didn't notice.
Only Yan Sui, eyes sharp despite his panic, glanced sideways at Fang Xi.
He realizes I'm controlling part of it, Fang Xi noted.
Good. Let him live in fear.
🩸 The Slaughter Begins
The rogue leader screamed, throwing a chain of talismans toward the constructs.
They shattered harmlessly against the crimson mist.
The first construct lunged, slicing through two rogues with a single spinning strike. Blood sprayed into the mist, vanishing instantly as the tomb drank it.
Shui Fang, still wounded, managed to finish another rogue with a precise water whip.
Lu Shuwei burned one down with layered fire talismans.
Han Yuren's blade moved like a shadow — emotionless, efficient — dropping two more bodies within seconds.
⚠ The Escape
Only two enemies remained.
Yan Sui, grinning through bloody teeth, slashed another disciple aside and leapt backward.
He shouted:
"This isn't over, Fang Xi."
With a flick of his hand, a spatial talisman ignited, warping his body into a flicker of smoke and vanishing.
Let him flee, Fang Xi thought coldly.
He'll spread the wrong rumors — and draw the right enemies.
🌪 The Second Pulse
As the last rogue fell, the obelisk pulsed again.
"Memory deepens. Lock incomplete. Host aligned. Echo hunger… growing."
The crimson mist coiled around Fang Xi's feet, almost affectionate now.
He could feel it:
The tomb recognized him as a partial inheritor.
But full control was still beyond him — for now.
His mark expanded slightly — a third ring forming, faint but solid.
Piece by piece…
The Echo Cult's remnants are mine.
🕊 The Elders Above
Far above, on a distant cliff, Elder Hua stared down at the gorge.
The blood pulse had reached even her vantage point.
Beside her, the robed guest finally spoke.
"You were right to watch him."
Hua's lips tightened. "He touches things best left buried."
The robed man smiled faintly. "And yet… perhaps that's exactly what we need."
A pause.
"Let the tomb consume what it will. If Fang Xi survives, we'll know he's worthy."
🌒 The Aftermath
As dawn bled across the gorge, the surviving disciples gathered at the tomb's entrance, bodies cooling behind them.
Shui Fang clutched her bandaged arm.
Lu Shuwei's gaze flicked warily at Fang Xi.
And Han Yuren stood perfectly calm — but his hand never left his blade.
Only Fang Xi smiled softly as he whispered to the silent tomb behind him:
We're not done yet.