The Blood Vow of the Ancient General

Xiao Lian stood in the dimly lit chamber, her breath uneven as she clutched the ancient scroll to her chest. The air hummed with residual energy from the dissolved formation, but the silence that followed felt heavier than the battle itself.

Her hands ached from gripping her dagger too tightly, and her muscles burned from the relentless tension. Yet she couldn't rest — not yet.

"SIS, status?" she whispered.

"Current environment stable," SIS responded, the synthetic voice softer than usual. "The formation has collapsed. However, an unidentified energy source remains."

Xiao Lian's fingers tightened around the scroll.

"What kind of energy?" she asked, her voice barely above a breath.

Before SIS could answer, the pedestal at the center of the room rumbled. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone, and a low, resonant hum filled the space. Xiao Lian took a cautious step back, dagger at the ready.

From the crumbling pedestal, golden embers rose like fireflies. They coalesced in the air, swirling together, until the shape of a man began to take form.

He towered over her, his body forged from ethereal light. He wore ancient armor, tarnished and cracked, but still imposing. His face was weathered, with deep lines carved into his ghostly features. His eyes, however, burned with an unyielding intensity — the gaze of someone who had seen countless lifetimes of war.

Xiao Lian instinctively dropped into a defensive stance.

"Who are you?" she demanded, voice steady despite her racing heart.

The figure's gaze softened. He studied her with an almost paternal curiosity, as if weighing her soul against something unseen.

"You solved my puzzle," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber like distant thunder. "Few have come this far. Fewer still have survived."

Xiao Lian swallowed, her throat dry.

"You're the one who created the formation?"

The general nodded. "I am Commander Yan Shou. In life, I led armies to defend the heavens against the Shadow Pantheon. In death, I linger to await a successor."

She blinked, her fingers tingling with shock. Yan Shou — a name etched into ancient texts as the 'Guardian of the Divine Gates.' A figure of legend, whose war tactics were said to rival those of the gods themselves.

"You... want me to be your successor?" she asked cautiously.

Yan Shou's expression turned solemn. "The Celestial Pagoda is not just a proving ground, it is a prison for forgotten legacies. Those who ascend may claim these legacies, but doing so carries a price."

He extended his hand, palm up, and a crimson sigil flickered to life above his skin. It twisted and pulsed like a living thing, casting faint red light across the room.

"This is my Blood Vow," he said. "Accepting it will grant you my battle instincts, my knowledge, and my strength. But it will also bind you to my unfinished war."

Xiao Lian's chest tightened. She didn't need SIS to understand the weight of his words.

She thought of Ji Ren, of Qin Ziyan, of all the people still trapped somewhere in this twisted trial. She thought of the sect master, the hidden forces manipulating them from the shadows, and the truth that this wasn't just about survival anymore, it was about something much bigger.

"SIS?" she whispered. "What happens if I refuse?"

"If you decline the Blood Vow, the trial will continue," SIS said. "However, without the inheritance, your odds of surviving future challenges will decrease significantly."

Xiao Lian clenched her jaw.

And if she accepted?

"The Blood Vow's bond will likely entangle your soul with remnants of the war between immortals," SIS continued, almost hesitantly. "Statistical probability of long-term survival... less than 20%."

Less than 20%.

She closed her eyes, steadying her breathing.

She'd always known her path wouldn't be easy. She'd always understood that strength came with sacrifice. But this was more than just her life, it was the lives of everyone depending on her.

And she refused to let them down.

"I accept," she said, her voice unwavering.

Yan Shou's eyes gleamed with something like pride.

"Then kneel," he commanded.

Xiao Lian sank to her knees, her heart pounding as the spectral general placed his hand on her forehead. The sigil above his palm flared, and pain surged through her body like wildfire.

She gritted her teeth, biting back a scream as the energy seared through her veins, burning away every weakness and fear. Visions flooded her mind, battles in the heavens, gods clashing against monstrosities of shadow, entire realms collapsing under the weight of divine conflict.

She saw Yan Shou, leading his army with ruthless precision, every move calculated, every decision a matter of life and death.

She felt his despair when the heavens fell.

And she felt the weight of his hope now — hope that she might succeed where he failed.

When the bond finally settled, Xiao Lian collapsed, gasping for breath. Her body trembled, sweat soaking her clothes, but the ache in her limbs was different.

Sharper.

More alive.

"Congratulations," Yan Shou said, his voice fading. "From this moment, you carry my will. Use it well... or be consumed by it."

His form dissolved into golden light, leaving only the echo of his words lingering in the chamber.

Xiao Lian pushed herself upright, wiping the blood from her mouth. Her pulse steadied, her vision cleared and for the first time, she could feel it.

Her senses had sharpened. Her body responded faster, her mind calculating escape routes, weak points, and strike patterns without her even trying.

She flexed her fingers, and her muscles tensed with newfound power.

"SIS," she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. "I'm ready for the next trial."

She rose to her feet, the ancient scroll secured at her side, and walked toward the chamber's exit.

Because she wasn't just fighting for herself anymore.

She was fighting for everyone.

And no matter how many gods, spirits, or ancient curses stood in her way, she would tear through them all.

One trial at a time.