The sea didn't look dangerous.
That was the first lie.
From the cliffs above, it stretched calmly into the horizon, waves lapping gently at the stone. The sky was clear. The water was blue. Not a single shipwreck floated along the coast.
But Raizen knew better.
This wasn't just ocean.
It was concealment.
The records had called it "The Silence Sea," a region of water where no spiritual signal could pass through. No Qi, no sound, no divine sense.
All who entered… were forgotten.
Not killed.
Erased.
And somewhere beneath it all, if the broken map he found in the Hollow Reach was correct, lay the final remnants of the Whispered Moon Sect—a void sect that had vanished long before the heavens began hunting his kind.
They were never listed among the exterminated.
Because no one had ever found their corpses.
---
Raizen stood at the cliff's edge, void aura pulsing silently around his body. Behind him, the world remained still. No one followed him. Not yet.
But they were watching.
Even the gods above had grown quiet, uncertain of what he'd do next.
He didn't waste time.
He stepped off the cliff—and vanished into the ocean below.
---
The water was cold. He didn't feel it.
He didn't swim either.
Instead, space folded around him, keeping pressure and current at bay. Light dimmed the deeper he went, and the sea turned from blue to black to… nothing.
He passed the bones of ancient leviathans, the rusted remains of ships swallowed whole, and even a half-submerged statue of a celestial guardian.
It had no head.
Someone—or something—had erased even divine protections here.
---
At the base of the trench, Raizen saw it.
Carved into the side of a cliff, surrounded by broken jade towers and twisted coral walls, was a circular stone gate glowing with faint black runes. It was cracked, but still sealed.
And etched into the center was a symbol he hadn't seen before.
Not a word.
Not a glyph.
But a warning.
It pulsed like a heartbeat.
> "Those who pass this gate will not return unchanged."
Raizen didn't hesitate.
He pressed his palm against it.
Void rippled outward, recognizing him.
The gate opened.
---
The space beyond the gate was dry. Air rushed around him, warm and stale.
He stepped into a great cavern—dozens of layers of stone steps leading down into a spiraling hall of mirrors. The walls reflected his image, but each reflection… looked slightly different.
One smirked.
One was bleeding.
One was already a god.
And one… wasn't him at all.
> "A test of self."
He walked slowly, ignoring them.
When he reached the center, a stone pedestal rose from the ground, holding a single item.
A shard of crystal.
Black. Uncut.
Inside, something moved.
Not power.
Not energy.
But will.
As if this fragment was still thinking.
---
A voice filled the chamber.
Not spoken aloud.
Just there.
> "You are not of the Whispered Moon."
"Why do you seek our legacy?"
Raizen didn't answer.
The voice didn't press.
> "Then show us."
---
The mirrors flashed.
From every surface, silhouettes emerged—echoes of former disciples, warriors, teachers, and monsters born from void backlash.
They attacked as one.
Raizen's body flickered.
One movement—eight attacks dodged.
A palm strike shattered the first. A twist of space redirected a second into the third. A summoned blade, formed from raw intention, tore through two more.
But he didn't kill all of them.
He allowed the last three to surround him.
He stood still.
Closed his eyes.
And erased their will.
Not their bodies.
Not their energy.
Just the reason they moved.
---
Silence returned.
And the crystal shard floated into his hand.
It felt heavier than any artifact he'd touched.
Not in weight—but in meaning.
It wasn't a treasure.
It was a seed.
The final legacy of the Whispered Moon Sect.
Their final hope.
> "Plant it in a place untouched by heaven."
"If it grows… we return."
---
Raizen left the cavern.
Behind him, the gate sealed itself again, this time crumbling into dust.
The sect had given him everything.
And chosen to vanish for good.
---
Above the water, in a temple hidden behind a time barrier, a golden-robed cultivator looked down at a cracked mirror and frowned.
> "He found it."
Another voice behind him whispered, "Should we intervene?"
The golden-robed man shook his head.
> "No. Let him plant it."
"Then we burn the world around it."