As Xiao Chen stepped onto the second floor,
The air tightened—
As if the space itself braced against him.
He turned, intending to glance back—
But the tower wall had sealed behind him,
Black as ink.
A tremor ran through his heart.
From this moment on,
There was no turning back.
He looked ahead.
Nothing but a faint thread of light,
Pulling him forward.
Following the glow,
A wall of mirrored crystal emerged—
Forged from black glass,
Stretching silently across the space.
He reached out.
The surface was ice-cold.
And the moment his fingers touched it—
Countless reflections surged from the void,
Surrounding him like waves.
Whispers echoed:
"You want fame, don't you?"
"You want the world to remember your name—
To sing your praises."
"If you let her go—
You can reach the summit."
A sweet scent drifted through the air.
The space transformed into a corridor of mirrors.
Countless panes floated in the void,
Their fractured light slicing through the dark—
A silent city of glass.
Each mirror showed a different version of him—
Draped in gold,
Seated upon thrones,
Adored by thousands.
Visions of what he had never been—
But could become.
Xiao Chen stared at one reflection—
A proud, powerful self.
Golden robes.
Sword in hand.
Revered by all.
But alone.
Utterly alone.
Suddenly,
One mirror cracked.
Behind it—
A blurred figure emerged.
It was her.
That familiar presence—
Not of this space,
But etched deep into his soul.
"Do you remember?"
She asked softly.
"You once said—
You'd protect a single inch of peace for me."
His heart trembled.
Her voice struck something buried deep—
A sealed well of memory.
He couldn't recall her face.
Couldn't summon her name.
Wasn't even sure she truly existed.
But the warmth—
The familiarity—
Moved him.
He felt their bond was not something words or memories could define.
It was deeper than memory.
Buried in the soul.
Like a promise woven through the river of fate for ten thousand years.
The mirror beneath his feet shifted—
Becoming a library.
In its depths,
A jade scroll lay upon a desk.
Its title:
The Record of True Names.
A voice echoed:
"You want to know who she is, don't you?"
The voice seemed to come from a corner of his own memory,
Pulling him forward.
He stepped toward the scroll—
Drawn by the promise of truth.
But just as he hesitated,
A figure appeared in the mirror before him.
Another version of himself—
Sharp-eyed, composed,
Seated with perfect posture.
Not an illusion.
But a manifestation of his own reason and obsession.
"Rational Xiao Chen."
"You've been running."
The reflection spoke—
Voice calm,
But heavy with pressure.
"You seek power.
You crave truth.
You want to rewrite fate,
Avenge the past,
Protect what you love—
But what you truly want…
Is to prove yourself.
Isn't that right?"
Xiao Chen said nothing.
"She's just an obsession to you."
The reflection spoke, voice calm and sharp.
"You think protecting her means preserving your past and your softness.
But the real you—
Should sever weakness,
Cut off emotion,
And ascend."
Xiao Chen scoffed.
His voice low:
"Just another illusion's temptation.
You think I'd be swayed by words like that?"
"Temptation?"
The reflection stepped forward.
"I'm not temptation.
I'm you.
A purer version of you.
No ties.
No confusion.
Only results—
And victory."
He stood before Xiao Chen,
Looking down with disdain.
With a wave of his hand,
His gaze sharpened:
"Look at the past five years.
How much have you truly learned from the martial archives?
Without the Crimson Nemean's help,
You wouldn't even have a stable foundation.
And you still dream of moving forward?"
As Xiao Chen pondered the reflection's words,
His steps moved forward—
Unaware that he was sinking
Into a long, quiet dream.
The light dimmed.
Time stretched.
Sound muffled—
Like voices underwater.
He began to study endlessly in the library.
Reading ancient texts.
Absorbing secret arts.
Copying scrolls.
Day and night,
He trained his spirit,
Refined his body and breath.
His posture grew upright.
His gaze sharpened.
He studied the notes of ancient masters,
Deduced fate's laws,
Created sword forms and heart techniques—
Sculpting a nearly perfect self.
Each day of progress
Made him believe he was closer to the "truth."
In those timeless days,
He learned from the books of heaven and earth.
His power soared—
Far beyond what he once was.
But she—
Was never there.
One day,
As he prepared to absorb more knowledge,
A sudden realization struck:
"True names should not be revealed.
Power should not be gained through shortcuts.
I may seek truth—
But I must not lose myself."
He turned to leave.
But Rational Xiao Chen appeared again,
Eyes sharp as blades:
"You're just going to walk away?
There's still so much here.
You've only scratched the surface of fate's true meaning.
Stay three more years—
You'll dominate your realm.
Stay five—
You'll stand atop the Central Plains."
"Do you even understand what you're giving up?
These laws, these techniques, these deductions—
Things the outside world couldn't learn in a century—
Are yours for the taking.
Just endure a little longer.
Stay a little longer.
And you'll have the power to rewrite fate."
Xiao Chen's expression was firm.
He said nothing.
He understood—
This illusion, though rich in knowledge,
Was stealing his heart.
"You'll regret this,"
The reflection's voice echoed behind him,
Fading slowly.
"You'll regret the step you take today.
Because from now on—
You'll never reach perfection."
In the instant of awakening,
The library collapsed—
Becoming a bottomless abyss of black pages.
The moment Xiao Chen stepped forward,
He fell.
Countless fragments of memory
Wrapped around him,
Pulling, tearing.
The illusion shattered—
And the knowledge once infused into his body
Began to drain away like a tide.
He realized—
Everything he had learned over those years
Was vanishing.
He struggled to hold onto the key insights,
Desperately trying to remember—
But it was like grasping sand.
The tighter he held,
The faster it slipped away.
In the end,
He managed to retain less than a third.
The rest faded like smoke.
It felt as if he had been jolted awake from a long sleep.
The mirrored hall still lingered in his mind—
And his heart felt strangely hollow,
As if something had truly been lost.
Yet Xiao Chen did not feel despair.
Though the knowledge had left him,
His heart was unwavering.
He understood—
This was not the end.
It was the beginning.
As long as the path remained,
He believed—
One day,
He would reclaim it.
And go even further.
He finally understood—
The Fate-Marked Tower did not merely test strength.
It peeled away the impurities within his heart—
Desire, obsession, fear,
Even his fixation on truth.
Then,
A voice echoed from the void—
Ancient and deep,
Like a bell ringing in his soul:
"Desire not extinguished—
But the heart is clear.
This one may proceed.
He has learned to coexist with it…
That is enough to pass the second floor."