Qing Feng stepped forward slowly, treading through the dark and silent corridor of the ancient ruins. Faint light shimmered from the ancient carvings on the walls, glimmering softly like the scales of a slumbering dragon. Yet the further he went, the heavier the suffocating pressure that coiled within his heart became.
"Could it be… a beast awaits at the end of this corridor?" he whispered, eyes narrowing with sharp vigilance.
Before he could reach the end, the earth suddenly quaked violently. From the depths of the darkness, a massive boulder broke free, rolling toward him with crushing force.
"No… impossible! How can a stone of this size appear so suddenly?!" His expression tightened, his body reacting on instinct as he spun around, retreating with all his might.
The boulder thundered forward without mercy, its roar echoing like heavenly thunder splitting the bowels of the earth. Each tremor caused the corridor to groan and shudder, as though the entire ruin was about to collapse under its weight.
Qing Feng ran with all the strength his legs could muster, his breath ragged as the monstrous rumble drew ever closer behind him. His eyes darted about, desperate for a gap, a crack—any sliver of salvation. Yet every step only summoned more tremors, as if the world itself sought to bury him beneath that rolling doom.
"No… I must be faster!" His heart pounded as he pushed his body beyond its limit. His figure blurred into a fleeting shadow streaking through the darkness, until at last the distance between himself and the crushing boulder widened slightly.
At that moment, his gaze caught upon a stone door along the side of the corridor. He faltered, face tensing with hesitation—the door was unfamiliar, as though it awaited him with a hidden choice, salvation or a snare.
But the roar behind him grew deafening. Without the luxury of thought, Qing Feng dashed toward the stone door. At the instant the massive boulder was about to crush his body, he slipped inside.
---
Inside the Door
Panting heavily, he leaned against the cold stone as the enormous boulder rumbled past with a thunderous roar, rolling endlessly into the abyss of darkness.
His breath still unsteady, Qing Feng's eyes widened as they fell upon the sight before him. Beyond the stone door lay a chamber overflowing with glittering treasures—mountains of gold, ancient relics, and weapons exuding dazzling brilliance.
For a moment, confusion painted his face. Yet almost instantly, the teachings of the Willow Tree surfaced in his mind: "Where treasure lies, there trial awaits."
He exhaled slowly, shaking his head with firm resolve. "These riches are not mine to claim… what I seek is only the path forward."
With that thought, he strode past the glittering piles of gold, rejecting the lure that could bind his soul.
The corridor stretched on, its walls engraved with ancient markings. Dim light revealed the figure of a mighty dragon clutching a sword, while opposite it stood the carving of a lone sword radiating a menacing aura.
"Why does the dragon clutch the sword? And why does even the carving of a single blade emit such oppressive force?" Qing Feng muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied the enigma etched by unknown hands in this ancient ruin.
Compelled by a surge of curiosity, he stepped closer, raising his hand toward the carvings. Yet just before his fingers could brush the stone, a swirling vortex opened upon the surface—sucking him in as if to devour both body and soul.
---
Within the Carving
When consciousness returned, Qing Feng staggered within a boundless void. All around him stretched a sea of stars, countless planets orbiting in mysterious light, as if he stood at the very heart of the cosmos.
"Could it be… this world is not alone? That beyond it lies countless others…?" His voice trembled, torn between awe and disbelief.
But before his mind could absorb the flood of knowledge crashing into him, a figure appeared amidst the stars. Vague, indistinct, yet its mere presence seemed to suppress the universe itself.
With but a casual motion—its finger flicked toward Qing Feng.
Bzzt!
A surge of unfathomable spiritual energy pierced through his body. Agony lanced into his very marrow, blinding his vision in an instant. His consciousness shattered into darkness.
The figure lingered for but a breath, then vanished along with the sea of stars, leaving only silence within the void.
---
Outside the Carving
Qing Feng's mind stirred back into awareness. His body trembled, still haunted by the memory of that light flick—a strike so casual, yet it had nearly crushed his soul. His face pale, he rose unsteadily, only to find himself once more outside the carved wall.
"How… how did I return here?" he whispered, confusion clouding his gaze.
Before his thoughts could dwell upon the identity of that mysterious figure—GROAAK!
The ground beneath him quaked violently. Cracks raced outward like writhing black serpents, and in the next instant, the earth collapsed without mercy.
Qing Feng's heart jolted. He sprinted desperately, lungs burning as he raced against the crumbling world beneath his feet. Yet every step only betrayed him, the ground disintegrating faster than he could flee.
"No… this can't be!"
With a final deafening roar, the last stone beneath his feet gave way. His body plummeted, swallowed whole by a darkness so absolute it devoured all light. The ruins above vanished from sight, replaced by an endless void that embraced him like a gaping maw.
And then, just as suddenly, the floor above reformed—whole, unbroken, as though it had never collapsed at all. It was as if this place itself had decreed his descent into the abyss, guiding him onto a path known only to the heavens.
---
Within the Abyss
Endlessly he fell, consumed by a darkness without end. When at last his senses steadied, Qing Feng found his feet upon solid ground once more, though sight was denied him. No light, no shape—only the faint gleam of his eyes reflecting in the void.
"What place is this? Why is it so silent… so utterly dark?" His voice, though soft, reverberated as if swallowed by emptiness itself.
Cautiously, he stretched out his hands, groping through the void. His fingertips brushed against something cold and unyielding. His heart thumped wildly as both hands traced its surface.
"A wall? Then… is this a corridor?"
Suddenly, from his right, an alien current brushed his skin. A thread of spiritual energy seeped into him, flowing like a hidden stream into his meridians. Reflexively, Qing Feng summoned the Qi within his dantian and pressed his palm against the wall.
BRUUM!
Radiant spiritual light burst forth, scattering the abyss. The corridor revealed itself in full—ancient walls adorned with faint engravings, the air thick with primordial aura.
Qing Feng's eyes swept across it, wonder gleaming in their depths. "So it truly is a corridor… But why am I always led to such strange places?"
Despite the endless questions, a faint smile rose on his lips. Even amidst uncertainty, a spark of hope lit his heart.
It was then that his gaze fell upon a hidden door ahead, sealed tightly, one that could only be opened by spiritual energy. Curiosity and caution mingled as he approached.
The door towered above him, etched with coiling dragons and faintly shining blades, as though both were waiting to awaken from stone. At a single glance, his chest swelled with restless anticipation.
"Very well… let us open it." His voice was soft but resolute. He pressed his palm against the stone, channeling his spiritual energy without hesitation.
A low rumble quaked through the corridor. Slowly, the door yielded, its grinding echo shaking the very walls and earth. Qing Feng narrowed his gaze, stepping forward with vigilance. Yet no sooner had he entered than the stone door slammed shut behind him, shaking the chamber as dust and rubble cascaded from above.
---
Within the Chamber
Silence greeted him. Wild grass hung from above, stones lay scattered across the floor. But all of it paled before the sight in the center of the chamber.
A sword, embedded within a colossal stone, radiated a terrifying aura that pressed upon the very air. Time itself seemed unwilling to touch it—for though countless ages had passed, the blade gleamed spotless, the stone beneath it unmarred.
"What is this…? How can this sword remain untouched? Not a trace of dust… not even a crack upon the stone?" Qing Feng whispered as he stepped closer with wary caution.
Just as his fingers neared the hilt, a voice resonated through the chamber. Calm, yet carrying unfathomable pressure.
"Boy… why have you entered these ancient ruins?"
Qing Feng froze, eyes widening in shock. He spun around, searching for the speaker, but found nothing.
"Oi, down here, you fool! Look beneath you!" the voice barked louder.
His gaze dropped—and his blood ran cold.
The sword… had spoken.
Qing Feng staggered backward in fright, nearly collapsing under the weight of his shock.