Xiwen and his brothers finally noticed the colossal creature curled in the shadowed corner. Under normal circumstances, warriors of their caliber would have sensed Holy Evil's presence instantly. But the Celial Sword Sage's parting words had left their spirits frayed, grief clouding their senses. "Master," Xiwen choked out, "what... is that?"
A ghost of a smile touched the ancient master's lips. "Its appearance startled even me. This young one may be the last true dragon in Veridia. He is A Dunce's companion... and a friend to our Order of the Celial Edge."
*Dragon.* The word hung heavy with mythic weight—a species vanished for a millennium. Yet Xiwen and his disciples had no mind to ponder mysteries now. Their world had narrowed to the fading aura of their master.
"His name is Holy Evil," the Sword Sage continued, his voice like dry leaves. "Keep his existence secret from the lower initiates. When he matures, he will be A Dunce's greatest shield. Now... leave me."
For the first time, the seven brothers defied their master's command. They knelt, heads bowed, silent tears carving paths through the stone dust. Though no word passed their lips, the Celial Sword Sage felt the anchor of their devotion.
His gnarled hand lifted Owen's sword—*Celial Edge*, its name etched in faint silver runes. "Life Rockforce, death, parting, reunion... all are but currents in the eternal river. Owen... your master comes." With a soft sigh, his hands parted. An unseen force, gentle yet unyielding, wrapped around the brothers and swept them from the cavern. A barrier of vital energy sealed the entrance behind them.
Outside, Zhou collapsed onto the moss, sobs wracking his frame—a sixty-year-old master warrior weeping like a lost child. The cavern entrance became an altar; the brothers knelt in wordless vigil, their grief a raw, silent thing against the mountain's bones.
---
**Two hours later**
Xiwen pressed his forehead against the cold stone archway nine times before rising. "Brothers," he said, the word ash in his throat. "We return. Master's final decree must stand." One by one, the other masters completed their silent farewell, touching heads to stone. Their trek back to the Celial Edge stronghold was a funeral procession without a body.
---
**Celial Edge Citadel**
A Dunce sagged against a workbench, drenched in sweat. Scaling and sectioning the Serpent Armor Emperor's hide using *Life Rockforce Manifestation* had drained him utterly. The silvery avatar in his dantian core dimmed, his qi perilously thin. Beside him, Peace Road channeled revitalizing energy into the young man's meridians.
Yuan inspected her handiwork: sleek light-armor crafted from the serpent's shimmering scales. Rock and Rockforce flexed, testing the articulated plates that moved like second skin. Even Luyi, clutching the armor meant for her, beamed despite the gravity around them. They owed this miracle to A Dunce's impossible power.
The chamber door creaked open. Xiwen entered, eyes unnaturally bright yet face carved from granite. "Go to him, A Dunce," he commanded. "The Sword Sage summons you."
Peace Road helped A Dunce stagger upright. As the young man hurried out, Yuan narrowed her eyes at Xiwen. "Xiwenwen... what happened?"
Xiwen mastered the tremor in his voice. "Nothing that concerns you now. See to your tasks." He turned away, his retreating back a rod of controlled anguish.
---
**The Mountain Cavern**
The Celial Sword Sage's eyes opened as A Dunce scrambled onto the stone dias. "You pushed yourself to the brink, child." He listened as A Dunce recounted scaling the serpent hide. "Hmph. Resourceful of them," the old master murmured, studying the youth's exhaustion-lined face. "Recover your strength. Twenty-seven cycles should restore you. Then... we speak."
Hours later, A Dunce opened his eyes, qi restored. The Sword Sage watched him, pride and sorrow intertwined. "The time for your journey nears, child. The path leads back to the Elf Queen's summons." He paused, seeing the conflict in A Dunce's eyes. "But before you walk it, there are promises to be made, and gifts... I cannot carry onward."
"Master?" A Dunce's voice wavered.
"Tell me, boy, what is my power to you?"
"You... you are the peak, Master. Unmatched."
The Sage chuckled, a dry rasp. "Peaks only exist until a higher mountain is found. The breadth of Veridia holds older shadows, deeper magic. My path has reached its end. I ascend now... beyond the Veil." He saw the confusion. "Another realm. Where beings of pure spirit dwell... or so the oldest scrolls whisper. This mortal vessel cannot follow."
"But won't you need your power there?" A Dunce protested.
"It is... incompatible with realms beyond flesh," the Sword Sage lied smoothly. "Like armor too heavy for flight. So I bequeath it to you." He steeled himself against the deception. "Your body requires forging to hold such energy. I shall shape a second focus—a golden avatar—in your heart-center. It will remain dormant. You must integrate its essence, cycle after cycle. Master it... and you will surpass even me." *Reach where I fell short,* he thought. "Three oaths you swear to me: First—the Celial Edge is your blood. Defend its name should darkness gather."
"I swear," A Dunce said instantly.
"Second—Five years hence, you duel Mystic Mystic Night. Zhuy is non-negotiable." The Sage leaned closer. "Absorb but thirty percent of my gift, and he cannot stand before the *Life Rockforce Manifestation*. This victory holds more than pride... it holds your future happiness." He ignored A Dunce's puzzled look. "Third—That same year, early February. Here. Upon this peak. Three visitors will come—old powers, contemporaries whose strength mirrors mine." *The other Swordsaints of Frostbone, Shadow, and Blazing Sun...* "Demonstrate the potency of Life Rockforce Manifestation. Hold your ground. That is all I ask." He omitted that failure likely meant death. He retrieved the Demon King's Sword bundle. "I have studied this cursed blade... its hunger rivals cosmic voids. Yet its might remains. If life itself hangs in the balance... use it. Below the Fifth Form, your purified vitality can resist its corruption. Reach the Ninth Cycle before even *considering* its deeper horrors." He placed two thumb-sized emerald gems—frozen serpent-eye crystals—into A Dunce's palm. "One now. One for Mystic Mystic Moon. The serpent sinew, take it also. Hide your abilities—Life Rockforce Manifestation marks you for friend and foe alike. The dragon slumbers still; the Emperor-Serpent Armor's core energy demands centuries to assimilate. Bind Holy Evil within the Dragon God's Bloodstone pendant when you depart. He carries a nascent dark pulse... guide him from shadow's lure." He gestured to two sets of night-blue scale armor. "For you... and the Fire Monk Priestess. Now... place Owen's blade beside me. Let him keep watch over his master."
Doubt flickered in A Dunce. "Master... this won't hurt your ascension?"
"No pain exists beyond the Veil, child," the Sage whispered. *Only oblivion, or transcendence.* "Now. Partake the crystal. Let us begin your final trial."
The glowing gem slid down A Dunce's throat. Agony detonated within him as the Sage's palm slammed onto his crown. Torrents of cosmic fire screamed through his meridians. He became a vessel of liquid light, skin splitting crimson. Consciousness frayed, snapped...
**Unseen Aid**
Invisible, silvery strands coalesced around A Dunce—manifestations of his Guardian Ring, weaving fraying flesh and buckling meridians back together. Sensing the intervention, the Celial Sword Sage relinquished caution. He poured his remaining soul-fire—ten decades of honed celestial power—into the crucible of his disciple. For seven days, the mountain peak thrummed like a captive star.
---
**Seventh Dawn**
Xiwen and his brothers felt the cavern's blinding radiance fade abruptly. They surged through the unsealed archway... and froze.
A Dunce sat cross-legged on the dias, clad in dried blood like rusted iron. Soft white light haloed his still form. Before him lay two sets of dragon-scale armor, a coil of ghost-pale sinew, an emerald serpent-eye gem glinting coldly, and the sinister leather sheath of the Demon King's Sword. Holy Evil slumbered in the gloom, unchanged. Of the Celial Sword Sage... there was no trace. Only emptiness, and a whispering wind through the ancient stones.