Forgotten Kingdom

Lin Jian's footsteps were heavy as he trudged through the wasteland, the desolate terrain stretching endlessly before him. The horizon seemed to melt into the sky, as though the world itself was dissolving into the void. The wind, a constant companion, howled around him, carrying with it the faint whispers of a forgotten past.

Every now and then, the ground beneath him would tremble, as if the very earth itself was alive, reacting to his presence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him—lurking in the shadows, just beyond the edge of his sight. The mark on his palm, which had once burned brightly with celestial energy, now pulsed with a more ominous rhythm. It was as if the power within him was responding to the land itself, attuned to the darkness that permeated this forsaken world.

Is this the place the woman spoke of? Lin Jian wondered. She had told him that his journey would lead him to the source of the corruption, the root of the curse that had ravaged the world. But how was he supposed to find it? How was he supposed to find the heart of darkness in a place that seemed to have no life, no direction?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in the air. The temperature dropped, and the wind shifted, carrying with it the scent of something ancient, something long forgotten. He paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon. In the distance, barely visible through the swirling mist, he saw something that shouldn't be there—an outline of towering structures, crumbling but still standing. It was a city, or what remained of one.

Lin Jian's heart raced. This was no ordinary ruin. The architecture was unlike anything he had seen before, with jagged stone spires reaching toward the sky, their surfaces covered in moss and creeping vines. The city had once been grand, a place of power and beauty, but now it was little more than a ghost of its former self.

He began to move toward it, his pace quickening as his curiosity got the better of him. As he drew closer, he could make out the remnants of intricate carvings on the stone walls, faded symbols that seemed to pulse with an energy he couldn't quite place. The air around him grew thicker, heavier, as though the very stones were suffused with a deep, ancient power.

When Lin Jian finally entered the city, he felt a strange sense of reverence wash over him. The place was eerily silent, the only sound the echo of his own footsteps. The streets were empty, save for the crumbling remains of once-great structures, their doors long rotted away, their windows shattered. Yet, despite the ruin, there was a strange beauty to the place—a beauty that seemed to call to him, urging him to explore further.

He wandered deeper into the city, drawn by an invisible force, until he found himself standing before what appeared to be a massive temple. The entrance was flanked by two enormous statues, their faces worn smooth by time, their once-proud forms now reduced to mere shadows of their former selves. But even in their dilapidated state, the statues exuded an aura of power, of something far beyond the ordinary.

Without thinking, Lin Jian stepped forward, his hand reaching out to touch the weathered stone of the temple's entrance. As his fingers brushed against the surface, a sudden jolt of energy shot through him, unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was as if the temple itself was alive, resonating with the power of the ancient beings who had once built it. For a moment, Lin Jian could feel the weight of countless eyes upon him, watching, waiting.

A low, rumbling voice echoed through his mind, sending a chill down his spine. "You are the one."

The words were not spoken aloud, yet Lin Jian heard them as clearly as if they were whispered directly into his ear. His heart skipped a beat. Who—or what—was speaking to him?

"You are the one who will break the curse. You are the one who will restore balance to this world."

The voice was ancient, its tone heavy with authority and power. Lin Jian's breath caught in his throat. Could this be the source? The heart of the corruption? Was this where everything had begun?

He stepped into the temple, the air growing colder with every step he took. The walls were lined with more carvings, intricate and detailed, depicting scenes of battle, sacrifice, and triumph. But as he looked closer, Lin Jian realized that the images were not just depictions of the past—they were warnings, warnings of what would come if the curse was not stopped.

At the heart of the temple, he found what he had been searching for—a large, stone altar, bathed in an eerie, dim light. The altar was surrounded by strange markings, symbols he recognized as ancient cultivation runes, though they were unlike any he had ever seen before. They pulsed with a faint, greenish glow, as if they were alive, waiting for something—or someone—to awaken them.

Lin Jian approached the altar cautiously, his senses on high alert. The mark on his palm flared to life once again, its heat searing into his skin as the energy within him responded to the altar's presence. He could feel the pull of the energy, a call that seemed to come from deep within the earth itself.

As his hand hovered over the altar, the ground beneath him trembled, and the carvings on the walls seemed to shift and change, as if reacting to his presence. A sudden surge of energy rushed through him, and before he could react, the symbols on the altar began to glow brightly, casting strange, dancing shadows on the walls.

The energy was intoxicating, filling him with a sense of power he had never known before. It was as if the very essence of cultivation was being poured into him, flooding his body with strength, with potential. But as the power surged through him, something else followed—something dark, something malevolent.

Lin Jian gritted his teeth, trying to hold on, but the energy was too much. It overwhelmed him, filling his mind with visions of destruction, of corruption spreading like a disease across the world. He could see cities burning, people falling to their knees, and creatures born from the very shadows themselves.

He gasped, his chest tightening as the visions overwhelmed him. His hand shot back from the altar, the power receding as quickly as it had come.

For a moment, Lin Jian stood there, panting, struggling to regain his composure. His palms were slick with sweat, and his body felt heavy, as if the energy had taken something from him. He could still feel the echoes of the dark visions lingering in the back of his mind.

The voice returned, cold and distant. "You are the one who will restore balance. But know this, Lin Jian—your path is not one of glory. It is a path of sacrifice. A path that will demand everything from you."