In the beginning — heaven and earth came to be.
Yet even before that, the Ryogen 霊源 existed,
dwelling in the eternal balance of life and death, light and shadow.
Among them arose Shizuma 鎮真 — Shinmetsu 真滅,
wielder of destruction, harbinger of death,
whose hands spared no life, whose cruelty knew no bounds.
Let this stand for all time — a warning to generations yet unborn.
-
The words on the stone echoed through time, and now, in the present, Yuanling wandered through Lingyin, the 'Hideaway of Spirits', a province shrouded in mist and shadow. She stopped before one particular stone, worn and moss-covered, and read the inscription again. She knew exactly who they talked about; Shizuma. The greatest threat to all living creatures that once walked on this earth. Fortunately he was dead — killed by the sacrifice of the altruistic heroes of the long lost past. "Nonsense" was what she thought of all of this. It wasn't that she didn't believe they were a lie, but she did not think of them as altruistic.
She didn't know why. Did she have a problem with them? Maybe.
The woman continued her walk in the dense forest, on her back she carried important materials. Centuries before she even existed — that very place where she was treading so carelessly was the place of the most intense battle of the world as they knew it. A place where splendid heroes once gave their lives to kill the 'harbinger of death' as the inscription on the stone recorded. She knew only one name out of those. Ling Hao.
— A beautiful name… and ancient — she murmured to herself.
For reasons unknown to her that name in particular had been engraved in her mind like those words were engraved in that cold stone. It wasn't the first day that she was in those woods — Every time she saw one of those stones, with their mysterious inscriptions, that name came back to her. There were a few of them, but nearly all spoke of the heroes and the ultimate sacrifices they made. Only two stones were about Shizume and Ling Hao.
The Ling Hao was — so mysterious and profound — like reading an ancient poem whose meaning was lost to time. On the other hand, the stone of Shizume was a bitter warning to anyone who still believed he might return.
— He is indeed the 'immortal death'... even after perishing in the hands of the heroes you still haunt the lives of the modern world… as if you were some ancient specter haunting the living… If something like you started haunting the living… — Yuanling didn't want to think about that possibility.
Ancient trees loomed overhead, their branches twisting like the fingers of old guardians, while the ground beneath her feet seemed to whisper secrets long forgotten, warning of the danger that still lingered in Lingyin. The reason for her sudden interest in this forest, located in a forgotten place even known as the 'Hideaway of Spirits' lay in a recent tale of a certain fire spirit causing havoc among the living. Even going so far as to claim lives for itself.
Which means that Yuanling had quite a problem in her hands, but fortunately she had the means to quickly resolve that issue. She is a wūnǚ — priestess — a very good one specialized in exorcising, she was no match even to the most gruesome spirits that insist on trying to bother the living.
Her gaze was on the sky. Only little spots of light pierced the canopy, but she could see one thing — the sudden shift of color to an orange-like hue, which indicated that it was time to finish what she had started: the barrier to contain that problematic spirit.
Such a barrier was prepared with care, using her finest materials — strong enough to even hold something like an enraged spirit of Shizuma.
In order to do that, Yuanling had to prepare something so ancient that even she thought she would never do such a thing. But the day had come. First she prepared the first circle — using her blessed black ink, made from ashes of burned talismans she had previously used to create one of the most powerful containment barriers she knew. She drew a large circle on the ground while performing her enchantments.
— Ashes bind, shadows close, gates of silence — her voice was imponent, strong.
As commanded by her voice, the circle shimmered with a faint bluish light. Without wasting time, she grabbed the swords she had prepared — it was time to start bringing the power of the cardinal points. One by one, she rose and planted the ancestral blades into the earth — eight in total — each driven deep into its rightful place: North. East. South. West. Then the four in between, where shadows lingered and the wind carried whispers of the unseen. The steel hummed softly, resonating with the marks on the earth.
— From silence and shadow, I seal the gate of death — she murmured like a mantra.
The north blade shimmered faintly, a pulse of cold light rippling outward.
— Through the path of dawn and dusk, I bind the passage.
The northeast blade responded in kind, glowing softly.
— By the light of rebirth, I summon life against corruption.
East, southeast, south, southwest, west, and northwest — she continued, activating the swords one by one. Each pulse stitched an invisible lattice of power across the clearing, threads of energy connecting the swords in precise geometry, while her chants carried the authority of ancient wisdom.
Yuanling stood still at the center of the circle, her gaze fixed on the four cardinal points as she traced the final talismans with the tip of her last blade dipped in ink. The ink pulsed faintly, as if alive, reflecting the energy contained within the space, it was red ink. Every talisman she placed was a thin thread between safety and danger; a single mistake, and the barrier could invert, drawing in rather than repelling.
She drew a deep breath, feeling the resistance of the ink as she traced the intermediate symbols in the center of the other one. The red ink, warm like blood, burned slightly at the tip of her sword — charged with the vital force needed to attract and trap spirits, her own blood. As a huli jing, a fox spirit she had an incredible scent that could attract spirits.
The black ink, cold and dense, absorbed negative energies, creating the shadow that would shield the circle from outside intrusion. Meanwhile the red was made to consume and extinguish spirits. Mixing them was risky, too much red, and the barrier could turn aggressive, repelling any presence — even her own; too much black, and the attractive force could fail, letting the unwanted energy slip free.
With steady hands, she positioned each talisman, whispering the ancient chant she had learned from her own mother. The air around her seemed to hum, tense, and a thin mist began to form over the surface of the ink, as if space itself hesitated between opening and closing the passage. The final talisman was placed at the southern-intermediate point, and Yuanling stepped back a few paces, watching the barrier shimmer with pulsating colors — red and black intertwined in a fragile balance.
She knew she could not falter; any distraction could undo everything. The energy concentrated within the circle throbbed, and the metallic scent of ink stung her nostrils. Only when the symbols finally stabilized, casting a glow that seemed to hold the very air in place, did Yuanling allow herself a slight exhale. The barrier was active — strong, but unstable, a reminder that manipulating two such opposing forces required more than technique: it demanded calm blood, absolute focus, and respect for the power she held in her hands.
Everything was ready, all she had to do was to make her sweet trap. She let her fox spirit be awakened, her long ears twitched atop her head and her tails even to the most magically blind human — but that wasn't enough if she wanted to attract that spirit without making it suspicious. She focused deeply. Yuanling grabbed her sword again, the one that stayed with her in the very middle of the circles.
"I must do it" with a cold gaze and a fast movement she cut the palm of her hand letting the blood slip through her hand. Yuanling didn't even flinch, she was accustomed to do that. Even though it always hurts. Her blood was thick with mana and vital energy, something that was irresistible to spirits. It could make them come like crazy.
She waited — calm. It could happen at any time all she had to do was wait while her hand bled.
Completely alone in that place that was called the 'hideaway of spirits' and even so she didn't see a single spirit in that place. It could only mean one thing: whatever haunted this forest was so powerful that even the spirits fled to hide. A shiver ran down her spine. She had to be completely focused for the barrier to hold strong, and even more important to have a chance of being alive. All she could hear was the wind rustling through the leaves; even the animals had vanished, as if the forest itself held its breath. "I'm ready…" She continued to think in her mind almost like a mantra to keep her alert.
For her shock even after a very long time it had no sign of that spirit. Maybe it was a false rumor? Maybe the person that contacted her was messing with her? Every minute that passes she could be in utter danger or being a fool.
Before she could decide what to do, she felt it — a presence, sharp and overwhelming, lurking among the trees. Something ancient, something immensely powerful. Yuanling prepared her sword, holding it like it was the most powerful object in the world. She could feel the thing getting closer and closer in a very intense phase. Her heart began to race, wild as a frightened rabbit.
In front of her eyes a man appeared, his hair was long and light brown and had a faint gold-like glow because of the last light of the day — his eyes were amber and complementing his intense beauty. The description of those ancient beauties that could tear a kingdom apart made a lot of sense at that moment.Yuanling was swept by his beauty for a moment, unaware that he had already stepped inside the circle, dangerously close.
— Why are you not affected— she began, but the words died on her lips as a sudden, overwhelming force enveloped her.
The beautiful man embraced her with a fervor that made her world tilt — fierce, desperate, yet intimate, as if reclaiming a lost lifetime.
— I killed him… for you. You won't have to marry that… creature. I killed Shizuma. For you. For us. I… I am yours, Ling Hao — he said in a haze of happiness and desperation.