The chamber fell silent.
Han Feng stood beneath the golden mist of the incomplete Gu, his eyes fixed on the darkness.
Then—
A cold wind passed through the chamber.
There was no wind underground.
Something was moving.
A shadow slowly emerged from the floor.
It rose like smoke before taking the shape of a humanoid figure.
Its body was translucent, wrapped in layers of dark mist.
Ancient inscriptions covered its chest, arms, and neck.
Some were intact.
Others had been broken long ago.
Its face was hidden beneath a cracked stone mask.
Only two pale lights remained where its eyes should have been.
Han Feng's spiritual perception swept across the figure.
Nothing.
No living body.
No complete soul.
No ordinary spiritual entity.
It was something left behind.
Something that had endured.
The figure raised its head.
"You have crossed the forbidden door."
Its voice was low.
But beneath the ancient authority was something Han Feng had not expected.
Weariness.
Not physical exhaustion.
Something deeper.
The exhaustion of waiting.
Han Feng narrowed his eyes.
"Who are you?"
The figure remained silent for a long time.
When it finally answered, its voice was quieter.
"I was called the Guardian."
A pause.
"Once."
Han Feng noticed the word.
Not am.
Was.
The figure looked toward the nine tombs.
"I have forgotten the name I carried before."
Its pale eyes dimmed.
"I have forgotten the face of the one who gave me this duty."
Another pause.
"I remember only the command."
The ancient inscriptions across its body flickered.
"Guard the Nine."
"Preserve the seals."
"Do not allow what sleeps below to awaken."
Han Feng remained silent.
The Guardian slowly lowered its head.
"Everyone who came here wanted something."
Its voice carried no anger.
Only bitterness.
"Treasure."
"Power."
"Inheritance."
"Immortality."
"They all asked the same question."
"What is beneath the tombs?"
The Guardian's pale eyes returned to Han Feng.
"Not one asked whether it should remain buried."
The chamber became silent again.
Han Feng studied the specter carefully.
There was something strange about it.
It was not merely defending the ruins.
It had been waiting for someone.
Perhaps for so long that even it no longer remembered what it was waiting for.
"You've been alone all this time."
Han Feng's words were quiet.
The Guardian froze.
For the first time, its expression changed.
The pale lights within its eyes trembled.
"Alone?"
The word seemed unfamiliar.
Then a faint, almost sorrowful laugh escaped it.
"Yes."
The laugh disappeared quickly.
"So long that I stopped counting."
Han Feng did not speak.
The Guardian looked toward the altar.
"I watched generations come and disappear."
"I watched kingdoms rise above these mountains."
"I watched sects become ruins."
"I watched cultivators enter these halls with ambition in their eyes..."
Its voice became softer.
"...and bones in their hands when they left."
A faint crack appeared across its mask.
"I remained."
The single word carried more weight than everything before it.
"I remained because someone had to."
Han Feng's eyes narrowed slightly.
The Guardian raised one hand.
"The trial remains."
Its voice became firm again.
But this time Han Feng could hear the reason behind the hostility.
Fear.
Not fear for itself.
Fear of failing.
"I cannot allow you to pass simply because you carry a familiar resonance."
The Guardian looked directly at him.
"If I am wrong..."
Its voice faltered for the first time.
"...then everything I endured was meaningless."
Han Feng's expression changed.
The Guardian slowly clenched its spectral hand.
"So prove me wrong."
The chamber trembled.
"Show me that you are not another person who will open what should remain closed."
The pale light in its eyes intensified.
"Show me that there is still someone capable of understanding why we were left behind."
Han Feng's gaze hardened.
The battle began.
The Guardian disappeared.
Han Feng's pupils contracted.
A spectral blade appeared beside his neck.
He ducked.
The blade passed over his head.
Another appeared behind him.
Han Feng twisted away.
The attack struck the stone floor.
CRACK!
The Guardian appeared several meters away.
Its movements were silent.
Precise.
Yet Han Feng noticed something.
The Guardian was not fighting with hatred.
It was fighting with desperation.
Every attack was measured.
Every movement forced him away from the altar.
Away from the incomplete Gu.
Away from the deeper seals.
It isn't trying to kill me.
Han Feng's eyes narrowed.
It's testing me.
The Guardian raised its hand.
Dozens of spectral blades filled the chamber.
Han Feng activated the Art of the Celestial Veil.
His presence faded.
The blades still followed.
The Guardian could sense the resonance.
Han Feng dodged through the storm.
One blade grazed his shoulder.
Cold invaded his meridians.
He retreated.
The Guardian's body flickered.
For a moment, Han Feng saw something behind the spectral mist.
A human face.
Young.
Tired.
Then it disappeared.
Han Feng's eyes sharpened.
The Guardian attacked again.
Han Feng responded with Celestial Dark Flame.
The black flames struck the specter's body.
Its form distorted.
A sound escaped the Guardian.
Not a roar.
Not anger.
Pain.
The flames receded.
The Guardian remained standing.
But part of its body had become transparent.
Han Feng stopped.
"You can feel pain."
The Guardian stared at him.
"I remember pain."
Its voice was barely audible.
"I remember fear."
A pause.
"I remember the day they left."
Han Feng did not attack.
The Guardian's pale eyes dimmed.
"They told me they would return."
Its fingers slowly opened.
"They never did."
Silence.
"I waited."
The chamber seemed colder.
"I waited until their names disappeared."
"I waited until their faces disappeared."
"I waited until even my own name disappeared."
The Guardian looked toward the nine tombs.
"Only the command remained."
Han Feng's expression became serious.
The battle had stopped being a simple trial.
He finally understood.
The Guardian was not protecting the tombs because it was commanded to.
It protected them because the command was the last thing connecting it to the people it had lost.
If the Nine Tombs fell, its final reason for existing would disappear.
Han Feng lowered his hand.
"I'm not here to destroy them."
The Guardian stared at him.
"I know."
Han Feng's eyes narrowed.
The Guardian continued.
"I know what you seek."
"Then why attack me?"
The Guardian's pale eyes trembled.
"Because I wanted to know..."
It looked at Han Feng.
"...whether you would stop."
Han Feng remained silent.
"If you had continued attacking..."
The Guardian glanced toward the altar.
"...I would have killed you."
There was no threat in its voice.
Only regret.
"Even if you carried the resonance."
Han Feng understood.
The Guardian would rather destroy a possible key than allow the seals to fail.
That was its duty.
Its fear.
Its prison.
Han Feng slowly extinguished the Celestial Dark Flame.
The Guardian watched him.
"I am not asking you to trust me."
Han Feng said.
"I am asking you to judge me by what I do."
The Guardian remained motionless.
Then, slowly—
It lowered its weapon.
For the first time in centuries, perhaps, the Guardian looked less like a weapon.
And more like a person.
"That..."
Its voice trembled.
"...is what I wanted to hear."
A faint smile appeared beneath the cracked mask.
So faint Han Feng almost thought he imagined it.
"Perhaps..."
The Guardian looked toward the ancient altar.
"...I did not wait for nothing."
The words were almost a whisper.
Then its expression became serious again.
"But remember."
The ancient inscriptions across its body began to glow.
"I protect the Nine Tombs."
"I do not protect you."
Han Feng smiled faintly.
"Good."
The Guardian's pale eyes softened.
"Then perhaps..."
Its form began to dissolve into mist.
"...you may be the first person I can finally stop fearing."
Han Feng's expression changed.
The Guardian disappeared.
But for a brief moment before it vanished completely, Han Feng heard one final whisper.
"Do not make my waiting meaningless."
The chamber became silent.
Han Feng stood alone.
For several breaths, he said nothing.
Then he looked toward the nine tombs.
"I won't."
It was the first promise he had made in this world that he did not make for power.
The ancient ruins remained silent.
But somewhere within them, the seals continued to hold.