44. Whispers of the Forgotten

The silence of the Forsaken Realm was never truly silent.

Even in the stillness, something unseen watched, listened, and waited.

Ling Tian stood before the ruined temple, its once-proud walls now covered in time-worn cracks. His golden-azure aura flickered, resonating with the ancient inscriptions that pulsed faintly beneath his touch.

Xu Qing'er stood beside him, her silver eyes filled with caution. "This place… doesn't belong to this world."

Ling Tian nodded. "It's older than the Forsaken Realm itself."

He could feel it.

Something was buried here.

Something lost to history.

And it was calling him.

---

The Forgotten Shrine

As he stepped forward, the inscriptions along the walls lit up, forming an intricate pattern of shifting symbols.

Xu Qing'er tensed. "Careful."

Ling Tian extended his aura, his Qi threading through the inscriptions—

And then—

A voice echoed.

"He who carries the lost fate… why do you seek the path of the Vanquished?"

A phantom figure emerged before them.

Clad in ancient robes, its face obscured by time, it carried the weight of an era long buried.

Ling Tian's expression remained calm. "I seek the truth."

The phantom did not answer immediately.

Instead, it raised its hand—

And the world around them shifted.

---

The Echo of the Erased History

Suddenly—

They were no longer in the Forsaken Realm.

Ling Tian and Xu Qing'er stood within a grand city, its towering spires reaching toward a sky filled with three dying suns.

People moved around them, warriors and scholars, rulers and commoners.

Yet—

None of them could see Ling Tian.

Xu Qing'er's voice was a whisper. "This is… a memory."

The phantom figure gestured toward the city.

"Behold… the last kingdom of the Vanquished Throne."

Before Ling Tian could respond—

A shadow fell upon the city.

A darkness beyond comprehension.

And then—

Everything burned.

---