It was past midnight when Lin Feng stepped through the arched stone entrance of the Inner Court Archive Hall.
Few were allowed here.
Fewer came at this hour.
Even the moon, veiled behind drifting clouds, seemed to hesitate before casting light upon the carved script above the doorway:
"Within knowledge lies damnation—and salvation."
He carried with him a sealed token provided by Instructor Zhu. It allowed him two hours within the first and second tiers of the archive. But that wasn't where he was going.
He wasn't here to borrow scrolls or study alchemy.
He was here to break into the third tier.
Inside, rows of jade and obsidian shelves stretched endlessly, covered in protective seals. Faint glimmers of light floated in the air—spirits of forgotten librarians, perhaps, or echoes of soul techniques.
He moved silently, bypassing the main wards with a ghost step technique. At the far rear of the hall, beyond a tapestry showing the Seven Founding Sages, he found what Ruoxi had marked on his map:
A trapdoor hidden beneath a loose slab of marble.
Lin Feng knelt and pressed three fingers against the floor.
Void energy hummed.
The marble faded like mist, revealing a staircase spiraling downward into black.
He descended.
The air grew cold. Each step down was a step backward in time. Torchlight flickered with blue flame, revealing old skeletal remains embedded in the walls—former intruders or guardians long dead.
At the base was a circular vault of black steel, etched with soul-sealing runes.
He placed his palm upon it.
A moment passed.
The seal flared, then… melted away.
Inside was a chamber no larger than a meditation hall.
One wall held ancient scrolls—barely intact. Another held crystalline panels glowing with forbidden inscriptions. In the center, atop a pedestal of black jade—
—was a map.
Not of the continent.
But of the demonic gates.
He approached slowly.
Seven points of light pulsed on the map, each corresponding to a major region of the cultivation world. One glowed faintly—Yin River Province, where he had died. That gate had been sealed… by his hand.
Another pulsed erratically—near the Skyfall Mountains.
Two glowed steadily.
And three were dark.
"Three sealed… three unknown… one broken," Lin Feng muttered.
A soft rustle came from behind him.
He turned sharply.
A figure stood in the shadow of the vault.
Draped in scholar robes, but wearing a mask of silver bone. No visible aura. No breathing.
"You're not supposed to be here," the figure said.
Lin Feng didn't speak.
The figure stepped forward. "Then again… neither am I."
He raised a hand.
"Soul Chain."
Threads of black light whipped toward Lin Feng.
He leapt back, unsheathing a shard of void light.
The chamber exploded into motion. Scrolls caught fire. The pedestal cracked. The map pulsed violently.
Lin Feng dodged again, then countered.
"Void Severance."
His blade of compressed space struck the attacker—but passed through as if the figure were smoke.
An illusion?
No.
A projection.
The figure's body flickered.
"We are watching, Void Lord," it said. "Every step you take… opens another path for us."
Lin Feng narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The projection laughed.
"An echo. A whisper. A servant of the Seven Keys."
Then it faded.
The vault trembled.
Lin Feng gathered the fragments of the map and three scrolls that hadn't burned.
As he turned to leave, he saw a final message etched into the floor in glowing blood:
"The second gate has opened."
He emerged just before dawn, robes torn, soul force unstable, and the weight of new knowledge pressing upon him.
Ruoxi waited near the scholar courtyard.
He tossed her the scrolls.
"We don't have time," he said.
"Another gate?"
He nodded.
"And someone—some group—is watching from the shadows. Using the academy as cover."
Ruoxi tightened her grip. "Then we expose them."
"No," Lin Feng replied. "Not yet."
He looked back toward the archive hall.
"We use them."
To be continue...