Chang Lee followed Yuan Tao's gaze. Half-buried beneath cracked soil and layers of ash lay a small metallic box, no larger than a clenched fist. In a land where everything beautiful had been burned to nothing, the object looked painfully out of place—clean, intact, almost… deliberate.
Chang Lee stared at it for a long moment.
"If it explodes," he said calmly, "I want you to remember that it was your idea to point it out."
Yuan Tao blinked. "I was just asking."
Chang Lee sighed and crouched down anyway. He brushed away the ash with his sleeve, coughing as fine dust rose into the air. The box was cold, darker than iron, etched with thin, twisting symbols that seemed to shift when looked at directly.
Yuan Tao leaned closer. "Looks expensive."
"That's your conclusion?" Chang Lee muttered. "Not dangerous or cursed?"
"I can be both cautious and optimistic," Yuan Tao replied. "But mostly optimistic."
Chang Lee snorted despite himself. It felt strange—almost wrong—to joke at a time like this. Yet the sound of laughter, however faint, reminded him that he was still alive.
He lifted the box.
The moment his fingers touched it, a sharp chill shot through his arm, followed by a strange warmth spreading from his chest outward. His vision blurred briefly, then steadied.
"…Lee?" Yuan Tao said carefully. "Your face looks like you just swallowed bad wine."
"Feels worse," Chang Lee replied. "If I start foaming at the mouth, run."
"That's reassuring."
Chang Lee opened the box.
Inside rested three items: a folded black cloth, a jade pendant carved into the shape of a broken ring, and a scroll sealed with deep red wax. The symbols on the wax matched those etched on the box.
The air grew heavy.
Yuan Tao instinctively stepped back. "Alright. I take it back. That thing is definitely cursed."
Chang Lee didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on the pendant. The jade was dull, almost lifeless, yet something about it tugged at him—like a half-remembered dream.
"This mark," he said slowly. "I've seen it before."
Yuan Tao frowned. "Where?"
"The underground training yard. The forbidden hall."
Yuan Tao's expression changed instantly. "The one even the elders weren't allowed to enter?"
Chang Lee nodded.
Silence fell between them.
With unsteady hands, Chang Lee reached for the scroll. The moment he broke the wax seal, the scroll unfurled on its own, floating midair. Glowing characters formed above it, ancient and heavy with pressure.
A voice echoed—not in the air, but directly inside Chang Lee's mind.
To the last survivors of the Eastern Ash lands…
Chang Lee's breath caught.
The Red-core dragons have descended. The clan has fallen. The elders have perished.
Yuan Tao opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
From this moment forward, the Chaotic Underground Maneuver is activated.
The characters burned brighter.
Abandon the surface. Preserve the bloodline. Hide strength within chaos. Those who endure the darkness will one day stand beneath the heavens and demand justice.
The scroll crumbled into ash.
For several heartbeats, neither of them moved.
Yuan Tao was the first to speak. "So… bad news first or bad news later?"
Chang Lee let out a slow breath. "All of it was bad."
He picked up the jade pendant.
The moment it touched his skin, pain exploded behind his eyes. He gasped and fell to one knee as fragmented images flooded his mind—endless tunnels, hidden chambers, sealed gates, figures training in silence, their breaths echoing like drums.
Yuan Tao rushed forward. "Lee!"
Chang Lee clenched his teeth. The pain faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind something else.
Awareness.
He could feel the land beneath them—not just soil, but hollows, corridors, ancient structures buried deep below the ruins.
"This pendant," Chang Lee said hoarsely. "It's a guide."
"A guide to what?"
Chang Lee stood slowly, eyes fixed on a spot several steps away. "To where we're supposed to go next."
Before Yuan Tao could ask another question, a deafening roar split the sky.
The ground trembled.
Chang Lee's blood ran cold. "They're back."
Yuan Tao didn't argue. He didn't need to. The pressure alone was enough to tell them—something massive was moving above.
"Follow me," Chang Lee said.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not if you want to live."
They ran.
Ash swirled violently as shadows passed overhead. Chang Lee didn't look up. He trusted the pull in his chest, the faint warmth of the pendant guiding him forward. He stopped abruptly before a cracked stone slab embedded in the ground.
Yuan Tao skidded to a halt. "Please tell me that's not just a rock."
Chang Lee pressed the pendant against it.
The stone rumbled and slid aside, revealing a steep staircase descending into darkness.
Warm air rushed upward.
"Underground?" Yuan Tao muttered. "Of course. Why wouldn't our escape involve claustrophobic tunnels?"
Before Chang Lee could respond, the sky exploded in flame. They dove inside just as fire scorched the ground above them.
The entrance sealed shut.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
Yuan Tao waved his hands uselessly. "I can't see anything."
"Stop flailing," Chang Lee said. "You're going to hit me."
"I'm emotionally flailing."
A faint glow emerged from the pendant, illuminating the stairway. The walls were carved from ancient stone, worn smooth by time.
They descended.
After a long while, the tunnel opened into a vast underground hall. Stone pillars stretched upward, etched with faded murals depicting battles, beasts, and figures standing defiantly against the heavens.
Yuan Tao whistled. "Alright. I admit it. This is impressive."
Chang Lee felt small—and strangely comforted.
"This place," he murmured, "was built to last."
They weren't alone.
Figures emerged from the shadows—survivors. Men, women, even children. Some injured, some hollow-eyed, all carrying the weight of loss.
A thin old man stepped forward, leaning on a staff.
"So," the man said dryly, "another pair that refused to die."
Yuan Tao blinked. "Is that the entry requirement?"
Chang Lee bowed instinctively. "Senior."
The old man chuckled. "Still polite. Good. Polite ones last longer down here."
He tapped the floor with his staff. "Welcome to the beginning of the underground path."
Chang Lee's heart pounded. "This place… what is it?"
The old man's eyes sharpened.
"A grave for the weak," he said softly. "And a cradle for monsters."
Chang Lee clenched his fists.
Behind the old man, deep within the hall, a sealed stone gate pulsed faintly—responding to the jade pendant at Chang Lee's chest.
The old man noticed.
His expression changed.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
Chang Lee felt the pendant grow warm again.
The gate began to tremble.
And somewhere far above, the heavens seemed to shift.
.....