The flight was blind, desperate. Xi Ran raced down familiar and unfamiliar sect paths, his heart hammering against his ribs, the roar of his own blood and the distant, growing bellow of Lin Feng echoing in his ears. **Late Iron Bones** – their speed was inhuman. Xi Ran felt the pursuer closing the gap with every breath.
***Sight!*** he prayed inwardly. *Show me the path!*
The impulse came – sharp, pointing not forward, but *sideways*, towards a half-collapsed wall of an old storehouse. There, behind a pile of rubble, gaped a dark crack in the foundation. Shelter? Trap?
He had no choice. Xi Ran dove into the opening, his shoulder grazing a sharp stone. Inside, it smelled of dampness and dust. He scrambled into the farthest corner, holding his breath, pressing against cold stone.
A shadow rushed past outside. Stopped. Lin Feng stood motionless just steps from the crevice. His heavy, furious breathing was audible even through the stone.
"Come out, rat!" he hissed. "I know you're here! Think this hole saves you? I'll tear it down stone by stone!"
Xi Ran curled into a ball. ***Sight!*** showed only one thing: **danger**. The purple distortion emanating from Lin Feng was thick, venomous. The artifact in his hand? Or his rage itself?
But before Lin Feng could act, other voices sounded. Heavy footsteps. The overseer's rough shout:
"Lin Feng! What's this racket?! Who are you chasing at this hour?"
Xi Ran froze. Rescue? Or new trouble?
"That novice… Xi Ran!" Lin Feng exhaled, trying to compose himself, but his voice trembled with fury. "Attacked me! Threw a jug! Tried to escape!"
"What?" The overseer moved closer. Disbelief colored his voice. A novice, **Early Flesh Bone**, attacking **Late Iron Bones**? It sounded insane.
"He… he's hiding something!" Lin Feng added hastily. "Stealing sect secrets! I tried to stop him, and he attacked!"
From the crevice, Xi Ran could only see the overseer's boots and Lin Feng's legs. He understood – the senior disciple was lying. But who carried more weight? Him, a swamp rat pup, or a promising senior disciple?
"Come out, novice!" the overseer barked into the crack. "You'll explain yourself to Elder Ji."
***
Elder Ji listened to them in the dim punishment hall. His face, lit by a single oil lamp, was impassive. Lin Feng spoke fervently, feigning righteous anger and concern for the sect. Xi Ran knelt, trying to interject in his defense:
"Elder! He's lying! He was eavesdropping! He has an artifact! He wanted to take…" But Elder Ji raised a hand, silencing him.
"Silence!" His voice, quiet and cold, cut through everything. "Novice Xi Ran. You disturbed the sect's peace. Raised your hand against a senior disciple. Attempted escape. And…" His gaze slid over Xi Ran's face, "*something* was hidden. The fact of concealment – admitted by you. The fact of assault – confirmed by witnesses (the overseer saw the shattered jug and Lin Feng's anger). Flight – obvious." He paused. "Your place is not among the disciples of the Falling Leaf Sect. Your place is in the **Stone Sack**. For one month. Without food. Water only. Contemplate your betrayal."
The blow was crushing. The Stone Sack – a tiny cell carved into rock, lightless, freezing in winter, suffocating in summer. One month? It was nearly a death sentence for a novice. Lin Feng barely suppressed a triumphant smirk.
"Elder!" Du Te, pale as a sheet and standing in the doorway, tried to intervene. "He didn't…"
"Silence!" Elder Ji didn't even look at him. "Who's next? Take him away."
Two guards seized Xi Ran. He didn't resist. His eyes held not despair, but icy fury directed at Lin Feng and this unjust system. They threw him into the dark, cold Stone Sack. The heavy door slammed shut, plunging him into absolute darkness and silence. He was an outcast. Cursed.
***
That same night, when the sect slept, Lin Feng crept along secluded paths beyond the main buildings. He held the **black pebble-artifact**. It glowed with a faint **purple flicker**, guiding his way. He reached an abandoned shrine to old gods – a half-ruined stone gazebo overgrown with moss and thorns. He glanced around, holding his breath, then drew a small black candle from his robes and lit it. The flame was not red, but **purple**, casting sinister shadows.
Lin Feng knelt before the empty stone altar. His hands trembled, not from fear, but anticipation.
"Shadow Master," he whispered, pressing his forehead to the cold stone. "I am here. I listen."
The purple candle flame flared brighter, and from its core crawled a **thick black shadow**. It cast no reflection, existing independently, taking a vague, faceless humanoid form. A voice sounded directly in Lin Feng's mind, cold as a tomb and hissing like a serpent:
«Report, servant.»
Lin Feng cowered. – Master! The novice… Xi Ran. He's not just a swamp rat. He has… an ability. He found something in the Grove. Healing resin. Potent. I tried to extract the secret, but… he escaped. Now he's in the Stone Sack.
The shadow rippled. «Resin… Illusion of True Growth? Intriguing. So the Whispering Willow still holds treasures hidden by *that* lie.» The pause was icy. «Your task changes, servant. Forget the novice. Let him rot in stone. You must penetrate the **Dry Leaf Repository**. In the back wall, behind the scrolls on the Path of Withering, there is a false stone. Find it. The artifact will reveal its weakness. Remove the stone. There will be a scroll. A fragment of an old map. Bring it to me. By the next full moon.»
Lin Feng paled. The Dry Leaf Repository! It was guarded by ancient formations and Elders! This was a thousand times more dangerous than terrorizing novices.
– Master… the guards… Elder Ji…
«The artifact will dull the formations. Find the moment. Or…» – The shadow contracted, and Lin Feng felt the **purple aura** around the pebble bite into his palm, causing searing pain. «You know the price of failure, servant. Your bones will turn to dust before you can scream. Fulfill the task.»
The shadow dissolved into the candle flame, which instantly extinguished. Lin Feng was left kneeling in total darkness, trembling, clutching the purpling artifact in his sweaty palm. He was trapped. Failure meant death at the Shadow Master's hands. Success – possibly death at the sect's hands. And all because of that cursed novice Xi Ran! Hatred for the outcast in the Stone Sack flared anew. He had to survive. At any cost.
***
In the Stone Sack, time flowed differently. Minutes stretched into hours. Cold seeped into his bones. Xi Ran received only a ladle of water once a day. Hunger was a constant, gnawing companion. The darkness was absolute, suffocating.
He sat, knees drawn up, trying not to think of food, of warmth. He thought of his father. Had that small amount of "living" resin helped for long? He thought of Du Te. Had Lin Feng harmed him? He thought of his ability. ***Sight!*** Here, in the dark, it was useless. There was nothing to see.
But one day, when the guard pushed a ladle of water through the narrow door slit, a shaft of dim light fell on the opposite wall for a fraction of a second. And in that wall, Xi Ran saw a **crack**. And deep within the crack – a faint, faint **emerald glimmer**. Like an ember beneath ashes. It flickered and died as the light vanished.
Xi Ran's heart lurched. Even here? In this tomb? His gift hadn't abandoned him. He was weak, cornered, declared an outcast. But he was not broken. And as long as that tiny emerald spark of hope glowed somewhere in the stone, he knew – he would survive. He would get out. And Lin Feng, and the Falling Leaf Sect itself, would yet learn the price of naming him traitor and casting him to die in the dark. He would clutch the memory of that emerald light in the crack and his cold fury in his fist. And prepare his answer.