Night had fallen over Mount Zijin, and a chilling wind swept through the forest, carrying with it an inexplicable metallic tang. Shadows of swaying trees danced like countless watchful eyes lurking in the darkness. Li Tianyuan clutched the old manuscript tightly, following closely behind Fuyuan, his heart hammering like a war drum. Ever since being intercepted by strangers the night before, he had realized that his ordinary life was gone forever.
"Senior, where exactly are we heading?" Li Tianyuan whispered cautiously.
Fuyuan did not turn, but his footsteps remained steady and deliberate, his voice deep and resonant like distant temple bells:"There is a forgotten altar deep within Mount Zijin. A century ago, the Great Sealing Array was erected upon it. This altar is the heart of the seal, the very place that suppresses the spiritual energy of the world."
"An altar… it actually exists?"
"It does," Fuyuan replied, pausing to gaze toward the mountain peak. "It has remained hidden in the shadows, unseen by those without fate's calling."
The further they went, the denser the forest became. Moonlight barely filtered through the thick canopy above. The chirping of insects fell silent, leaving a strange, almost ominous quiet.
Suddenly, a low, mournful sound reached Li Tianyuan's ears—part baby's wail, part owl's cry. His hand instinctively tightened on the manuscript strap, and his throat went dry. "Did you hear that, Senior?"
Fuyuan paused, then flicked his sleeve. A talisman shot out and affixed itself to a tree trunk. Instantly, the chilling wind dissipated, and the eerie cries ceased.
"Wandering spirits," Fuyuan said calmly. "Souls suppressed by the Great Sealing Array for a hundred years are beginning to break free."
Li Tianyuan shivered. If such anomalies existed just in the foothills, how terrifying must the heart of the mountain be?
As they reached the midpoint of the slope, a sheer cliff suddenly loomed ahead. Below, black mist churned, concealing any sense of depth. Fuyuan raised his hand, fingers weaving complex seals. A faint azure light formed at his palm, solidifying into a bridge of glowing energy spanning the chasm.
"Step forward," he commanded, leading the way.
Li Tianyuan's legs trembled as he stepped onto the spectral bridge. It seemed insubstantial, yet it held firm beneath his weight. Gritting his teeth, he followed Fuyuan across.
At the cliff's end lay a broad valley. Silence enveloped it, broken only by the circle of crumbling stone pillars covered in weathered runes. Li Tianyuan's eyes widened—this was the altar from the manuscript.
"The altar…" he murmured.
Fuyuan walked to the center, hands clasped behind his back, eyes somber. "A century ago, Master Jiang convened Taoist, Buddhist, and Confucian sages here. The nation's destiny was bound to the array, suppressing the spiritual energy and preventing gods and demons from manifesting."
Li Tianyuan's chest tightened. "So… this is where the Hundred-Year Pact was enacted?"
Fuyuan closed his eyes briefly. "Indeed. What we see now is but a remnant, a shadow of its former power. The array is fractured; the seal is breaking."
Before he finished speaking, the pillars trembled violently, the runes flaring with spectral light. A wave of oppressive energy surged from the ground, pressing down on Li Tianyuan's chest.
"Step back!" Fuyuan barked. He slapped a talisman against Li Tianyuan's chest, and the pressure eased slightly. Li staggered, his face pale as a ghost. Fuyuan's expression, however, revealed a rare shock.
"…Not good."
"What… what's wrong?"
Fuyuan slowly lifted a hand, pointing to the altar's center. Black mist coalesced into a vague humanoid shape. Its features were indistinct, yet it radiated a deadly intent, like a long-dormant malevolent spirit finally awakened.
Li Tianyuan's pupils contracted sharply. Blood seemed to freeze in his veins. The shadow spoke in a hoarse, hollow voice:"The Hundred-Year Pact… will finally break."
The figure lunged. Claws of darkness extended toward Li Tianyuan, who stumbled backward, barely avoiding the strike. Instinctively, he recalled the faint symbol in his grandfather's manuscript. A heat surged in his chest, forming a thin, glowing sigil.
With a flash, the symbol erupted into a golden barrier, blocking the ghostly strike. The mist writhed violently, shrieking as though restrained by an ancient curse, unable to approach.
Li Tianyuan gawked. "Did… I just do that?"
Fuyuan's eyes glimmered with sharp insight. He stared at the sigil on Li Tianyuan's chest, his expression grave. "So it is the bloodline… Fate has indeed left its mark upon you!"
He executed another hand seal. Purple lightning arced from his sleeve, severing the mist completely. Silence returned to the altar.
Li's chest still burned with residual energy, his heart pounding.
Fuyuan exhaled slowly. "The array is fractured. Other spirits will soon emerge. What you faced just now… was only a warning." His gaze hardened on Li Tianyuan. "You have been pushed onto the chessboard of destiny. If you do not inherit this power, you will be devoured by the fiends yet to come."
Li's throat went dry. "Can… I ever go back to the way things were?"
Fuyuan shook his head, eyes deep as an abyss. "From the moment you saw the dragon shadow, there was no turning back."
The black mist receded like a retreating tide, but its presence lingered. Li collapsed onto the cold stone floor, chest heaving, still seeing the residual lights of the encounter. It was no illusion—he felt a dormant power within him awakening, raw and uncontrollable.
"You didn't use ordinary force," Fuyuan said, his eyes complex, "That energy… resonates with your bloodline."
Li swallowed hard. "My bloodline? My grandfather was just an ordinary man. He left nothing but a few yellowed manuscripts."
Fuyuan remained silent for a long moment. Then he murmured: "Ordinary men cannot know of the Great Sealing Array. Yet you just repelled the altar's spirits with your will alone, even if briefly. That means… you are no ordinary person."
Crimson talismans drifted gently to the ground, their flames barely flickering. The air remained thick with the scent of burnt incense, a reminder that the battle had ended only as a warning.
Deep within the altar, the fissure continued to spread. Fuyuan sheathed his instruments, brow furrowed. "The array is destabilizing. If no one restores it, it will collapse completely within three months."
"What happens if it collapses?" Li asked, voice trembling.
"All the spirits will be unleashed. The city will become a hell." Fuyuan's gaze was iron-hard. "And your arrival… may not be a coincidence."
Li recalled the references to Mount Zijin and 1927 in his grandfather's possessions, a cold dread creeping over him. These were not merely historical records—they were unfinished secrets.
Fuyuan turned, robes brushing the stone steps, his voice echoing in the dim cavern. "Li Tianyuan, you must master this power quickly. If not, not just you, but the entire city will be dragged into the abyss."
A low rumble sounded from the darkness, like the heartbeat of an ancient beast. The altar shook, dust and stones falling. Li clenched his fists. For the first time, he felt his fate intertwined with that of the city itself.
The night wind carried embers and shadows, weaving an ominous prelude.
Even when he returned home in the early hours, the streets silent save for the rustle of leaves, the strange force still coursed through him, refusing to let him rest.
He retrieved his grandfather's old wooden box, its corners blackened by age and damp. Opening it, the musty scent of ink mixed with mildew hit him. Inside lay several fragile, yellowed manuscripts.
Li lit his desk lamp, fingers trembling as he turned the pages. On the first page, familiar words stared back at him:
"1927, beneath Mount Zijin, a time of blood and fire. We swore to protect the Great Array, never letting it falter through generations."
He held his breath, continuing to read. Strange symbols occasionally appeared between the lines, like constellation maps or arcane diagrams. On one page, his gaze froze.
It was an unfinished array diagram. The circular pattern was complete, but symbols around the edges left a blank in the center, with a few hastily scrawled words:
"Eye of the Spirit Seal, to be completed by future generations."
Li's heart thudded violently. The fissure he had seen in the altar… could this be the "Eye of the Spirit Seal"?
Even more shocking, in the corner of the manuscript, was his family name:
"Descendants of the Li clan shall bear this responsibility."
Under the lamp, the faded handwriting seemed impossibly clear, as if his ancestors were watching across time.
Li's forehead was slick with cold sweat, palms damp. He remembered Fuyuan's words—"Your arrival is no coincidence." Could his destiny have been sealed nearly a century ago?
Before he could process it, a deep bark sounded outside, followed by faint footsteps. Li looked up sharply into the darkness.
Someone was watching.
The night pressed in around him, and the array diagram in the manuscript seemed to glow faintly, radiating a mysterious energy.