The voice was a weapon. It didn't just travel through the air; it cut through it, laced with an authority that made the dust in the ancient garden swirl. It was vibrant, alive, and utterly alien in this tomb.
Li Wei's blood ran cold. Pure instinct took over. He blew out the candle, plunging them into absolute darkness, and yanked Old Man Huang down behind the large, dry stone basin.
The sudden blackness was a relief and a terror.
"Did you hear that?" a second voice, younger and less assured, echoed from the tunnel. "Sounded like a scrape."
"Rats. Or the wind in a dead place," the first voice replied, dripping with disdain. "The sensor spiked. There's latent energy here. Weak, but… unusual. Fan out. The artifact we seek may be close."
Artifact. They weren't looking for him. Not yet. They were looking for the Seed, but they thought it was still an object. A sliver of hope, thin as a razor's edge.
Li Wei pressed himself against the cold stone, trying to silence his breathing. The warmth in his core, the Seed, had gone still and quiet at the sound of the voices, like a rabbit freezing in a hawk's shadow. It recognized the threat.
He could hear two sets of footsteps. One was heavy, confident, each step ringing with a faint metallic echo. The other was lighter, hesitant.
A sharp, white light flared to life, piercing the darkness. It wasn't the warm glow of his candle. This light was cold, clinical, and intense, emanating from a crystalline orb one of the figures held aloft. It illuminated the vast, dead garden in a ghastly panorama.
From his hiding spot, Li Wei risked a glance.
Two figures. Both wore robes of a fine, grey material that seemed to subtly repel the dust. The leader was a young man, probably no older than Li Wei, but his face was a mask of arrogant boredom. His eyes scanned the room with a predatory gleam. A long, slender sword was strapped to his back.
The other was younger, a boy with nervous eyes that darted around the fossilized plants. "Senior Brother Feng, this place… it feels wrong. The energy is stagnant. It's like breathing poison."
Feng.
Senior Brother Feng sneered. "That's because you're breathing the dregs of a dead realm, Junior Wen. Your spirit root is too weak to filter it. Focus." His eyes landed on the central basin, and he began walking toward it.
Li Wei's heart hammered against his ribs. They were coming right for them. He could feel Huang trembling beside him.
The Seed inside him throbbed, a spike of panic. The warmth tried to rise up, to defend itself. Li Wei clenched his teeth, forcing it down. No. Not now. Be still. The effort made sweat bead on his forehead.
Feng stopped a few paces from the basin, his eyes passing over their hiding place without seeing them. He was focused on the tiny circle of soil and the single, defiant green sprout.
"Well, now," he murmured, a note of genuine interest in his voice. "What is this?"
He took a step closer, leaning down.
Li Wei held his breath. He was close enough to see the intricate silver threading on Feng's collar, close enough to smell a faint, ozonic scent coming from him—the smell of lightning and clean, powerful air.
Feng reached a hand toward the sprout.
No. The thought was a silent scream from Li Wei, from the Seed.
As if hearing it, Junior Wen spoke up, his voice shaky. "Senior Brother… should we? It's… alive. In a dead place. Isn't that a little… sacred?"
Feng paused, his hand hovering. He glanced back with contempt. "Sacred? Nothing in this filth-ridden realm is sacred. It's a curiosity." He straightened up, losing interest. "There's nothing of use here. The energy signature is gone. It must have been a final flicker."
He turned away. Dizzying relief washed over Li Wei.
But then Feng stopped. His head tilted. He wasn't looking at the plant anymore. He was looking at the ground near the basin. At their footprints in the thick dust.
Feng's eyes narrowed. He followed the trail with the light from his orb… directly to their hiding place.
A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.
"It seems the local rats are larger than I thought," he said, his voice a soft, dangerous purr. "Come out. I won't ask twice."
The cold light pinned them in its glare. There was no more hiding.
Senior Brother Feng's smile widened. He saw vermin.
"Well, what do we have? Scavengers." His eyes flicked over their patched, dirty clothes with utter disgust. "Did you find something shiny down here? Something that doesn't belong to you?"
He took a step forward, and the pressure in the room increased. An invisible weight, a spiritual pressure that made the air feel thick and heavy. Old Man Huang gasped, clutching his chest. Li Wei felt it too, a suffocating blanket trying to push him down.
This was a true cultivator. Just his presence was a weapon.
Li Wei forced himself to stand, putting himself between Feng and the old man. He said nothing. His mind raced, but there were no tunnels, no tricks left.
Feng's eyes glinted with amusement. "The big one has spirit. For a mortal." His gaze then fell on the object still clutched in Li Wei's hand: the now-dull metallic artifact, the Seed's former casing.
Recognition flashed in Feng's eyes, followed by avaricious hunger.
"The Patriarch's relic…" he breathed. "You did find it. Give it to me, worm. And I might make your deaths quick."
He held out his hand, expecting immediate obedience.
The Seed inside Li Wei burned. It wasn't afraid anymore. It was furious.
Li Wei felt that fury as his own. He tightened his grip on the artifact. It was just a piece of metal now. But it was his.
He looked Senior Brother Feng directly in the eye.
"No," he said.
The word hung in the dead air, simple and final.
Feng's amused smile vanished, replaced by icy rage. No one, least of all a mortal from a dung-heap world, refused him.
"Then I'll take it from your corpse," he hissed.
His hand shot out, not for the artifact, but for Li Wei's throat. It moved with impossible speed, fingers tipped with lethal spiritual energy.
In that split second, guided by pure instinct and the Seed's rage, Li Wei did the only thing he could.
He didn't try to block. He raised the artifact and pointed it like a blade, not at Feng, but at the cold, glowing light orb in Junior Wen's trembling hand.
And he pushed.
He pushed all the fear, the desperation, and the Seed's raw, indignant fury out through his arm and into the metal.
There was no silent shockwave this time.
With a sound like shattering glass, the light orb exploded.