Chapter 20: The House of Masks
The sky wept.
Gray clouds choked out the sun as Duong traveled westward, his boots coated in dust and blood. Trees loomed on either side of the road, gnarled and whispering, as though ancient secrets rustled in every branch. The world felt different since the second seal had broken—more awake, more watchful.
Each step he took seemed to echo through something greater.
Lệ Kiếm hummed faintly at his side, reacting to forces unseen.
Duong had left the Sky Sect, but the power he carried refused to let him vanish into obscurity. Everywhere he passed—abandoned shrines, forgotten paths, towns that feared to speak—people whispered his name like a curse and a prophecy both.
He was no longer just Tham Duong.
He was the Mourning Flame reborn.
And those who remembered that name were beginning to move.
Two Days Later – Ruins of Hoai Province
Duong arrived at a shattered city, the stone bones of its former glory half-buried under creeping moss and twisted roots. This was Hoai Province—a place wiped from records a century ago after "divine fire" fell from the sky.
But Duong remembered this place.
He remembered because he had burned it.
In a life long past, he had unleashed Lệ Kiếm and turned an empire's capital into ash.
Now it was little more than haunted stone and weeping statues.
He stepped through broken archways, his presence disturbing the stillness. Crows scattered into the sky. Wind howled through cracked walls.
And then—
"You came."
A voice. Soft, melodic, male.
Duong turned, hand to blade.
From the shadows emerged a figure clad in porcelain-white robes, face hidden behind a mask carved in the likeness of a weeping child.
The mask had no eye holes. No mouth.
Yet the voice had come from within.
Duong frowned. "Who are you?"
The figure bowed. "I am called the Keeper of Faces. And I serve the House of Masks."
He gestured to the ruined square. One by one, more masked figures emerged. Each wore a different expression—joy, sorrow, rage, serenity. Some carried musical instruments. Others held brushes, knives, scrolls.
"We are the Chroniclers of Rebirth," the Keeper continued. "We serve those whose lives transcend death. We remember what others forget."
Duong's eyes narrowed. "You know who I am."
The Keeper nodded. "You are the last scion of Mourning Flame. The one who dared to burn destiny itself. We have awaited your return."
"To worship me?"
"To warn you."
Within the Hall of Masks
The temple had no ceiling. Instead, open sky stretched above, where starlight poured through even during the day.
Inside, countless masks lined the walls. Some old, some new, some cracked. Each represented a soul Duong had once touched—by blade, by word, or by memory.
The Keeper approached a particular mask—a crimson one split down the center.
"This was the face you wore when you defied the Celestial Mandate. You chose sorrow over obedience. Flame over heaven."
He pointed to another—a silver mask with no mouth.
"And this… is the face you will wear when you speak no more. When silence becomes your rebellion."
Duong scowled. "I didn't come here for riddles."
The Keeper's voice lowered.
"Then hear this clearly: The Third Seal lies within the Hollow Sun Temple, buried beneath the sands of Tuyet Vong Desert. But it is guarded—not by beasts or traps, but by the Echoes of Your Own Doubt."
Duong's pulse quickened.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you will face yourself… and you may not survive."
Suddenly, the masks on the walls began to tremble. A low hum filled the air. The Keeper stiffened.
"They are listening."
"Who?"
"The Immortal Assembly. The Lords of Heaven. You have drawn too much attention. Even now, one of their Heralds descends."
Above the Mortal Realm – Celestial Veil
Far above the world, wrapped in divine winds and golden lotus clouds, the Immortal Assembly convened.
Twelve thrones. Twelve silhouettes.
And in the center—a glowing sigil now cracked and flickering.
"The Second Seal is broken," intoned a voice made of thunder and law. "He walks the path again."
Another voice answered, female and sharp like ice. "Then we must correct the cycle. The Mourning Flame cannot rise."
A younger voice, hesitant: "What if… he chooses differently this time?"
A silence fell.
Then laughter—cold, hollow, ancient.
"He never does."
A spear of starlight formed, bound in karma and decree.
"Send the Herald."
Back on Earth – The Broken Sky
The storm came suddenly.
One moment, the sky was quiet.
The next—it shattered.
A beam of gold tore through the clouds, striking the center of Hoai Province's ruins. The ground split, stone melted. Winds screamed as a figure descended within the light.
Tall. Armored in celestial gold. Hair like woven sunlight.
Eyes like judgment itself.
The Herald of Heaven.
Duong stood alone in the square, wind whipping his cloak.
The Keeper of Faces whispered, "Run."
But Duong did not.
He stepped forward.
"So they've finally sent a dog."
The Herald's voice shook the earth.
"You have broken divine law. You walk paths sealed by eternity. Surrender your soul."
Duong gripped Lệ Kiếm.
"No."
The blade flared, its fire blacker than shadow.
"Then die."
Clash of Heaven and Flame
The first strike was light itself. The Herald moved faster than sound, his spear leaving a trail of burning symbols.
Duong blocked with Lệ Kiếm, the impact throwing him across the square. Rubble flew.
Before he landed, he spun, twisting midair, blade slicing an arc of flame that forced the Herald back a step.
The second strike was thunder.
The Herald clapped his hands together—reality cracked. Lightning in the shape of chains shot out, wrapping around Duong.
Duong screamed—then roared.
His blood ignited.
A phoenix of mourning flame burst from his chest, burning the chains into ash.
He landed on one knee, panting.
"I'm not... the same child you killed in my last life."
The Herald raised his spear again—but something flickered in his expression. A hesitation.
And in that instant—Duong moved.
The blade pierced through golden armor.
For a moment, all was still.
Then—
The Herald staggered back, coughing blood that shimmered like sunlight.
"Impossible…"
Duong's eyes glowed.
"Tell the Assembly: I'm not coming quietly."
The sky cracked once more.
And the Herald vanished.
Aftermath – Beneath the Broken Stars
Duong collapsed among the ruins.
The House of Masks was gone—vanished without trace. Only the feather from the mysterious girl remained, now glowing faintly.
He clutched it in his hand, breathing hard.
A storm had been survived—but not without cost.
And far away, in the Tuyet Vong Desert, the Third Seal waited… along with a version of Duong he had not yet faced.