The tunnel ahead was unlike any they'd passed before.
Smooth stone gave way to black slate, the walls narrowing into jagged lines. The air turned cold—not from temperature, but from absence. It felt as though the world itself refused to breathe here.
No wind. No dust. Just silence.
Shen Liun and Ning'er walked carefully, the only sound their footsteps echoing through the corridor. The deeper they went, the more the darkness seemed to press in—not natural shadow, but something living. Watching.
> "We're beneath the Forgotten Domain now," Aoshen whispered into Liun's mind. "This is the realm of shadows—formed from the regrets of cultivators who died without purpose."
"How many regrets must this place carry," Liun murmured, "to feel this heavy?"
Ning'er stayed close, her eyes scanning every crack in the wall. "I don't trust this silence. It's not stillness. It's waiting."
They reached a fork.
Two paths diverged: one lined with faint white runes that shimmered like frost, the other so dark it looked like a hole carved into the world.
A small stone slab between them bore ancient script.
> "One path holds clarity. The other, truth. Choose with your soul, not your eyes."
Liun narrowed his gaze. "Clarity or truth…"
Ning'er studied the runes. "I'd normally choose clarity. We can see, react, survive. But…"
"But this place never tests the easy way," Liun finished.
He stepped toward the dark path.
"You're sure?" she asked.
"No," he said. "But I need the truth. Even if it hurts."
They entered the black corridor.
It swallowed them instantly. The light behind them vanished, as if erased.
Liun reached out, barely able to see Ning'er's silhouette beside him. The shadows here weren't simple absence—they pulsed faintly, like they were alive. Every step felt heavier.
Then came the whispers.
Not the same as before. These were clearer. Sharper.
His voice.
> "You could've saved them if you'd awakened sooner."
"You let them burn."
"You weren't enough for her. You were never enough."
Liun stumbled, fists clenched.
> "A memory test," Aoshen warned. "This corridor forces you to face your own shadow. If you give in, you will wander here… forever."
Beside him, Ning'er gritted her teeth.
> "They're in my head too," she whispered. "Things I buried. My brother… the night my sect fell…"
Liun stopped walking.
The shadows ahead twisted into forms.
His mother, reaching for him through flames.
His father, standing between him and a sword that had no mercy.
Ye Ruoxi, back turned, walking away in a silk robe.
The pain was immediate. Deep.
But Liun stepped forward.
"I've seen these memories before," he said quietly. "They live inside me already. I've carried them for years."
The shadows hissed.
He faced them.
"I failed," he admitted. "I lost everything. But I won't run from it."
He bowed slightly to the figure of his father. "You died protecting me. I won't waste that."
He looked at his mother's shadow. "You gave me your warmth, even in your last breath. I'll carry it forward."
And then… he turned to Ruoxi's image.
His voice was calm.
"You left. And it broke me. But I'll rise—not to prove you wrong… but because I won't let your judgment be my truth."
The shadows cracked.
With a rush of sound, the entire corridor lit with silver fire. The figures dissolved into ash. The air became lighter. The weight lifted.
The black walls shimmered, then faded, revealing a chamber beyond.
It was small. Simple. A circular room with only one item inside: a pedestal holding a small, sealed scroll glowing with faint golden light.
Liun approached.
> "A soul inscription," Aoshen explained. "Left by one who walked the path before you. A gift… or a warning."
Liun picked it up.
The scroll unrolled on its own.
Golden words floated from the parchment, forming a single sentence that carved itself into his mind:
> "The greatest power is not vengeance—but the will to keep walking, even when the world offers you nothing."
The scroll turned to dust.
Liun stood in silence.
Behind him, Ning'er exhaled slowly. "You passed. Not just the test… but something more."
He nodded. "I feel like I finally looked myself in the eyes."
Aoshen's voice returned.
> "You've stepped beyond the realm of the Ashen Initiate. Your soul has refined its foundation. You are now in the Ashen Core Realm – Stage Two."
Liun felt it immediately.
Not just power—but clarity. His flame didn't burn wilder. It burned truer.
The shadows parted. A new door opened ahead.
Golden light shone beyond.
They stepped into it together.
Far above, in the divine temples of the empire, another jade mirror trembled. A black-gold mark shimmered across its surface.
The elders watching it fell silent.
One of them whispered:
> "He carries the Ashen Flame. But his soul… is no longer bound by vengeance. That makes him dangerous."