The field of white lotuses shimmered like a reflection in still water—silent, infinite, and strangely weightless. Kai Feng stood at its center, the petals soft beneath his feet, each glowing with pale, ethereal light. The stars above glimmered unmoving, fixed in constellations he didn't recognize. Time didn't pass here. It simply was.
Beside him stood the Immortal Paragon of the Pure Path.
She looked untouched by age, or time, or sin. Her robes were woven of moonlight and bound with silver thread, and when she spoke, her voice carried the serenity of a mountain stream.
"You have walked a path that was never meant to be yours. You survived when others would have perished. You resisted when corruption offered comfort. You reached where even the Celestial Eclipse failed."
Her gaze held his, unwavering.
"For that, I offer a gift."
Kai's brow furrowed slightly. "What kind of gift?"
"Not power," she replied, "but clarity. The truth you seek. The truth behind all this, come."
She extended her hand.
The petals around her stirred without wind, parting like a river before her gesture. A trail opened before them, leading into light, warm and golden and inviting.
Kai hesitated only a moment.
Then he stepped forward and took her hand.
The moment his fingers touched hers, the world cracked.
The field of lotuses dissolved beneath his feet like frost in sunlight. The stars twisted above into whorls of molten silver. The warmth deepened, sharpened, and thickened like steam in a closed room. The gentle light turned blinding.
Kai blinked—
And the sky was gone.
The flowers vanished.
He stood within a dome of golden crystal, vast and seamless. The walls curved smoothly upward in a continuous ring, marked with radiant sigils that pulsed with a quiet, menacing rhythm. Above, there was no sky—only a swirling ceiling of immortal script etched in circles too large to comprehend.
The light came from nowhere, and everywhere. It soaked into his skin like oil.
Kai took a sharp breath and stepped back. His boots clacked against the smooth floor, echoing too loudly in the perfect silence.
The Paragon remained before him, no longer luminous, no longer warm.
She was cold now—serene still, but different. As though something essential had dropped away, like a veil pulled from a blade.
"This is…" Kai began, struggling to make sense of the space. "What is this place?"
Her voice was the same, but her eyes gleamed with something ancient and proud.
"The Crucible of Origin," she said. "An artifact from the time before time. A creation of the Nine Immortal Courts. It was once used to refine divine beasts into immortal pills."
She drifted through the air, not walking, but gliding, as though gravity itself bowed before her.
"I repurposed it."
Kai's throat went dry.
"For what?"
She turned to face him again.
"To refine you."
He moved, reaching for the Celestial Eclipse Manual out of reflex. It wasn't there. Panic surged through him.
"What are you—?"
"You're trapped, Kai Feng," she said. "The crucible is sealed. Your body rests in the outer dream layers. But your soul—your Qi, your spirit—it is here. And it is now part of this chamber's process."
As she spoke, a low hum began to vibrate in the air. The walls glowed brighter. Heat, subtle but rising, pressed against Kai's skin. It wasn't natural warmth—it was spiritual compression. Alchemical intent.
The crucible had begun its work.
Kai felt it immediately—a tug, deep in his gut, as if invisible fingers had reached into his core and begun to draw his Qi outward.
He staggered. "No…"
"This chamber will distill every drop of your spiritual essence into a single immortal-grade pill," the Paragon said. "Your soul will dissolve. Your mind will scatter. Your mortal coil will wither. But your remains will be useful."
He gritted his teeth, fighting the rising pressure. "You said you were giving me truth."
"I am," she replied. "You're finally seeing what this world is built on. Not virtue. Not justice. But refinement. Purpose. Use."
She stepped closer, her presence looming despite her stillness.
"You were never meant to matter, Kai Feng. Your life was an aberration—an echo that outlasted its speaker. You meddled where you shouldn't have. You survived the Altar of Metal Cultivation when Han Long should have ended you."
Kai's head snapped up.
"That was you?"
The Paragon smiled faintly.
"I arranged it. Han was unstable. Wrathful. Broken. It was the perfect opportunity to erase you. I even ensured he would be sent there at the same time."
She circled him now, a predator in the form of a saint.
"But you found the metal inheritance instead. You thrived. Again. Just as you did in the Eclipse Trial. Just as you did when you inherited the Forgotten Seal—which was never meant to be found."
Kai's heart pounded harder. The air grew heavier. He dropped to one knee as the chamber's pull intensified, draining more Qi from his core with every breath.
"You a merely a mortal librarian but you were in my way. Again and again. And now…"
She spread her hands.
"Now, you'll serve your highest purpose. As material."
Kai roared and slammed a fist into the floor. Qi flared, but it dispersed immediately, absorbed by the crucible's spiritual mesh. He couldn't focus. Couldn't draw enough. Every pulse of energy he summoned was pulled away, siphoned and devoured.