Sleep, in the absolute dark, was a battle.
It wasn't the silence or the cold—he was used to those. It was the sensory shift. His new Shadow Sense didn't turn off. With his eyes closed, he still perceived the cavern in pulsing shades of profound black. The stalactites were jagged teeth hanging from a maw of nothing. The still pool was a flat, oily sheet of perfect void. The ancient ruins were angular scars on the darkness.
Every drip of mineral water from the ceiling was a seismic event. Every shift of his own body echoed in the shadow-soundscape.
And then there were the whispers.
Not voices. Not quite. They were the impressions of voices, pressed into the stone by time and profound emotion, now leaking out, resonating with the shadow essence he'd just introduced to his system.
[Alert: 'Phantom Whisper' Event Detected. Ambient Shadow Essence Density: High. Host Resonance Stability: Low. Initiating Dampening Field.]
A subtle chill, different from the Lotus's, wrapped around his mind. The whispers faded to a distant murmur, like hearing a argument through a thick wall. He caught fragments, feelings.
…the sky is falling…
…hold the line at the Bleeding Bridge…
…the roots are screaming…
…forgive…
They were echoes of a cataclysm. They held despair, valor, terror. They were not for him. Yet, they seeped into his dreams, painting them with landscapes of crumbling stars and silent, massive figures turning to dust.
He woke not rested, but emotionally drained. His shoulder was a solid block of throbbing pain. The System's preservation skill had stopped him from dying, but it wasn't healing.
[Status: Health 29/100. Minor infection detected at fracture site. Shadow Essence: 1.5/10 (Passive Regeneration Active).]
He needed medicine. Or healing qi. He had neither.
He ate the last of the bun, chewing slowly to make it last. The action grounded him. Food was a real problem. The pool's water was drinkable—his Shadow Sense detected no life toxins, only a high concentration of mineral-heavy shadow essence. It tasted like licking a wet cave wall, but it was water.
"System," he whispered, his voice a rough scrape. "Query: Survival priorities."
The response was instant and clinical. [Analysis Complete. Prioritized List: 1. Secure Nutrition. 2. Treat Injury. 3. Establish Defensible Perimeter. 4. Cultivate to Qi Refinement Stage 1 to enable basic self-repair.]
"Nutrition. What is edible here?"
A brief pause. [Scanning…] His Shadow Sense flared outward, more focused than before, pushed by the System. It swept the cavern, analyzing. Most of the rock was inert. But there, in the cracks near the pool, and clinging to the underside of a few stalactites… [Identified: 'Gloom-Moss' (Variant). Edible. Low nutritional value. High trace shadow essence. Prolonged consumption may affect pigmentation and dream cycles.]
[Identified: 'Blind-Cave Crickets.' Protein source. Capture difficult without tools.]
Moss and bugs. The menu of the truly desperate.
He crawled to the pool's edge. The Gloom-Moss was a velvety, black fur growing in patches. He pinched some off. It came away silently. He put it in his mouth.
It had no taste. It was like eating damp, fibrous air. It dissolved on his tongue, leaving a faint, menthol-cool sensation that spread down his throat. A tiny notification popped up.
[+0.01 Shadow Essence.]
So he could eat the darkness. Of course he could.
He gathered a small pile, using the cloth that had wrapped the bun as a makeshift sack. It was tedious, finger-numbing work. Every movement jarred his shoulder. The whispers pressed in when his focus lapsed, the dampening field a thin shield.
…so cold, why is it so cold…
He shook his head, gritting his teeth. "Shut up," he muttered to the stone.
The stone did not listen.
After what felt like hours, he had a pathetic bundle of moss. It would keep him alive, barely. The injury was next.
He had no splint, no bandages. Just his torn shirt and his will.
"Can I use shadow essence to… brace it?" he asked the System.
[Theoretical Application: 'Shadow Lacing.' Manipulating solidified essence to create temporary structural support. Minimum Essence Requirement: 3 Units. Control Precision: Novice. Risk of Essence intrusion into bone marrow: High. Not Recommended.]
"What is recommended?"
[Suggestion: Utilize environmental resources. Locate straight, rigid material for splint. Use fibrous plant or mineral sheets for binding.]
The ruins. He turned his Shadow Sense towards the collapsed blocks. Among the rubble, he found a long, slender piece of stone that had broken from some larger structure. It was smooth, about the length of his forearm, and straight. A perfect splint. He also found, to his shock, a strip of something that was not stone. It was flexible, dark, and tough—like cured leather, but it felt metallic. A strap from some ancient piece of armor or luggage. It hadn't decayed. It was cool to the touch and thrummed with a dormant, denser shadow energy.
A treasure. His first treasure.
With great difficulty, using his teeth and his good hand, he fashioned a crude splint. He positioned the stone slat along his collarbone and upper arm, then wrapped the ancient strap around his torso and over the splint, securing it tightly. The moment the strap was fully fastened, he felt a gentle, cooling pressure emanate from it. The sharpest edges of the pain receded.
[External Artifact Detected: 'Forgotten Wraith-Bind' (Damaged, Spirit Dormant).]
[Effect: Minor Pain Suppression. Slight Stabilization of Fracture. +0.5 to Constitution while worn.]
Lin Feng let out a shuddering breath of relief. It wasn't healing, but it was management. He could think again.
Next: perimeter. The cavern had two exits: the narrow tunnel he came from, and a wider, arched passage on the far side of the pool that sloped downward into even deeper black. He needed to know if anything used those passages.
He spent the next few hours—his sense of time was completely warped—engaged in the most mundane, terrifying work: making a trap.
He had no wire, no spikes. But he had shadows, and he had the System's primer on basic essence manipulation.
[New Sub-Quest: 'First Ward'.]
Objective: Create a simple shadow alarm at the entrance of the wider passage.
Reward: +0.1 Spiritual Sense. Unlock 'Shadow Thread' skill.
Following the System's instructions, he sat before the dark archway. He focused on the 1.5 units of shadow essence in his dantian. He willed a tiny fraction of it, a hair-thin strand, to seep out from his fingertips.
It was like trying to push congealed oil through a pinhole. His spiritual sense strained. A bead of sweat, cold as the cavern, traced down his temple.
Slowly, a wisp of darkness, barely visible even to his Shadow Sense, curled from his finger. It was insubstantial, a thought given form. He guided it across the passage entrance, about ankle-high, and anchored it to the stone on either side with a mental push. The thread vibrated faintly, humming at a frequency only he could perceive.
[Skill Unlocked: Shadow Thread (Lv.1).]
A filament of solidified shadow essence. Can be used for alarms, simple tripping, or detection. Range: 5 meters. Cost: 0.1 Essence per meter.
He felt a flicker of accomplishment, immediately followed by a wave of dizziness. His essence was now at 1.2. Using it had a cost, a drain on his spirit as real as blood loss.
He retreated to his spot by the ruins, eating a handful of tasteless moss. He needed to cultivate. To refill his reserves and grow stronger.
But as he sank into the now-familiar meditation, drawing in the thick, cold essence of the cavern, something changed.
The Forgotten Wraith-Bind around his chest grew warmer. Not hot. It was like the stone was sharing its memory of heat. And the whispers, held at bay by the System's dampening, suddenly clarified for a single, crystal-clear moment.
It was not a voice of despair or battle. It was a voice of instruction. Calm. Weary. Ancient.
"…the shadow is not a tool, child. It is a reflection. To weave it, you must first understand what you are casting it upon. Feel the stone's silence. The water's patience. The air's stillness. Then… let your shadow meet theirs."
The voice faded. The dampening field reasserted itself.
But the lesson remained.
Lin Feng opened his eyes. He looked at the pool. Instead of trying to forcefully pull shadow essence from the air, he did as the whisper suggested. He extended his sense, not to grab, but to feel. He felt the pool's profound, placid darkness. The deep, dreaming stillness of the water.
He breathed in, and this time, he didn't pull. He invited.
The pool's surface shimmered. A gentle, willing tendril of pure, liquid shadow essence, far denser than the ambient energy, rose like smoke and drifted towards him. It entered his meridian. There was no tearing pain. It was a cool, smooth flow, like silk through a ring.
His Shadow Essence pool refilled. 2.0… 3.0… and stabilized at 4.5/10. The increase was staggering.
[Cultivation Efficiency Increased by 300%. Resonance Stability: 7 ➜ 15/100.]
[Insight Gained: 'Sympathetic Resonance'. The host is learning to harmonize with existing shadows, rather than dominate them.]
He wasn't fighting the dark anymore. He was listening to it.
The discovery was empowering. It was also deeply unsettling. That whisper… was it a lingering will in the strap? A ghost in the stone? A memory of the Lotus's last wielder?
As he pondered this, a sharp ping vibrated in his mind.
The Shadow Thread. Someone—or something—had broken it.
Lin Feng froze, all thoughts of cultivation vanishing. His Shadow Sense snapped toward the arched passage.
Something was there. It had moved with utter silence, but it had touched his thread of essence.
He saw its outline in the gradient of blacks. It was low to the ground, about the size of a large dog, but sinuous and lean. Its form was irregular, a jumble of sharp angles and smooth planes. It wasn't flesh. It was made of the same substance as the ruins—dark, smooth stone—but it moved with a liquid, predatory grace. Two pinpricks of faint violet light glowed where eyes should be, fixed on his location.
A construct. A guardian.
[Alert: Hostile Entity Detected. Scanning…]
[Name: Sentry Shardling (Weakened).]
[Threat Assessment: Low-Medium (To Current Host).]
[Description: A remnant automaton from the fallen civilization. Powered by residual geological and shadow energy. Patrols predefined routes. Eliminates intruders.]
It didn't growl. It didn't hiss. It simply shifted its weight, and with a sound like grinding pebbles, it shot forward across the cavern floor, directly toward him.
Fear, ice-cold and sharp, stabbed through Lin Feng's gut. He had nowhere to run. The tunnel behind him was a death trap.
The Shardling closed the distance in seconds, a silent avalanche of living stone. It leaped, a dark blur aimed at his throat.
Instinct took over. Not the instinct to fight, but the orphan's instinct to duck.
He threw himself to the side, his injured shoulder screaming in protest. The Shardling sailed past him, claws of sharpened stone scraping across the ancient block where he'd been sitting with a shower of sparks.
He rolled, scrambling to his feet. The thing landed and pivoted with unnatural speed, its violet eyes locking onto him again.
Think! The System was silent, observing. This was his test.
The Shardling charged again, a low, skittering run. Lin Feng had no weapon. No strength. He had 4.5 units of Shadow Essence and a head full of terrifying whispers.
…the shadow is a reflection…
As the creature lunged, he didn't try to summon a tendril. He didn't have the control or the time. Instead, he focused on the pool of dense shadow behind the creature, the source of the essence he'd just drawn. He poured his will and a full unit of his own essence into a single, frantic command.
REFLECT!
The placid surface of the black pool erupted. A column of liquid darkness shot up, not at the Shardling, but at the space between Lin Feng and the beast. It didn't hit the creature. It formed a perfect, mirror-still vertical wall of pure shadow.
The Sentry Shardling, committed to its lunge, hit the shadow-wall headlong.
There was no crash. The wall held for a fraction of a second, absorbing the kinetic force, showing the Shardling a distorted reflection of its own jagged form. Then, the wall dissipated, the essence spent.
But the Shardling was stunned. It staggered back, its violet eyes flickering wildly, as if confused by its own image. It let out a sound—a low, grinding whine of fractured cognition.
It was vulnerable.
Lin Feng didn't hesitate. He ran forward, not at the creature, but past it. He scooped up the stone he'd used as a splint, now lying on the ground. It was heavy in his good hand.
The Shardling shook its head, recovering. It turned to face him, its whine rising to a grinding shriek of rage.
Lin Feng didn't give it the chance. He put all his 4.1 Strength, all his pain, all his fear of the dark and the whispers and the hungry Lotus, into one overhead swing.
The stone club, guided by Shadow Sense in the perfect dark, connected with one of the glowing violet eyes.
There was a crack like breaking slate. The violet light snuffed out. The Shardling's shriek cut off into a guttural crunch. It collapsed into a pile of inert, crumbling rock. The remaining violet light in its other eye faded, then died.
Silence rushed back into the cavern, louder than before.
Lin Feng stood over the rubble, breathing in great, heaving gasps. The stone club fell from his numb fingers. His shoulder was a universe of fresh agony. He'd spent essence, energy, everything.
[Combat Concluded. Threat Neutralized.]
[Experience Gained. Shadow Essence +0.5 (Absorbed from dissipating construct).]
[Quest 'First Ward' Updated: Complete. Rewards Distributed.]
[New Title Available: 'Ruin Delver (I)' – Slight increase to insight gains in ancient places.]
He didn't care about the titles. He stared at the pile of rocks. He had killed something. Not with a cultivator's mighty technique, but with a rock, a puddle, and a trick of the light.
He slowly walked to the edge of the pool. The water was calm again, dark and undisturbed. He looked at his own reflection in the shadow-sense, a pale, bruised boy with wild eyes and a strange strap across his chest.
The whisper's lesson had saved his life.
He was not just surviving in the dark.
He was starting to speak its language.
And somewhere, in the deeper passages beyond the arch, other things were beginning to listen.