Chapter 90: Whispers of Doubt

Kai Feng stood motionless upon the wide stone balcony of the Obsidian Peak Sect's highest pavilion, staring out into the darkened valley below. Night stretched endlessly around him, the sky an obsidian tapestry studded with countless stars, but the serene beauty did little to ease the unrest gnawing at his heart.

Obsidian Peak had settled into an uneasy calm following Shen Zhenhai's possession by the Blood Demon essence. Though Shen had been subdued, countless questions remained unanswered. The quiet that now blanketed the sect felt fragile, tenuous—as if at any moment the illusion of peace could shatter once more into chaos.

Kai's mind wandered back to Shen's sudden transformation, replaying the shocking scene in his memory. The ferocity and power Shen displayed were staggering, beyond what should have been possible—even through conventional forbidden arts.

Someone had helped him.

The thought repeated incessantly, refusing to fade. Kai paced slowly along the length of the balcony, brows knitted tightly, each step echoing softly against polished marble tiles. Shen had always been cunning and ambitious, but he lacked the knowledge required for a possession of such magnitude. The strange pill, the mysterious rune-etched box, the unknown possession technique—it all pointed to an external influence.

He paused again, leaning heavily against the carved stone railing. Gazing out into the darkness, Kai felt the weight of unseen eyes watching from afar. The events seemed too carefully orchestrated, too deliberate, suggesting a larger hand pulling the strings—a hand that had yet to reveal itself.

Could it be the same mastermind behind the Azure Cloud Sect massacre?

The thought sent a shiver through him. That tragedy still haunted his dreams—families slaughtered, futures lost. Yin Shuang's past was scarred deeply by that massacre, and the echoes of it now seemed to resonate again, here, through Shen's betrayal. Could the same shadowy figure be weaving these seemingly disconnected events into one horrific tapestry?

He shook his head softly, frustration mounting. Each answer led only to more questions—a spiral with no visible end.

Footsteps approached from behind, soft but measured. Kai turned slightly, expecting a disciple or perhaps Meng Yao.

Instead, Elder Kong stepped onto the balcony.

"You should rest, Sect Lord Kai," the old man said quietly. "Even those with strength need sleep."

Kai gave a thin smile. "I will. But not yet."

Kong walked to the railing beside him. "You're thinking about Shen."

Kai nodded. "Someone helped him. Someone powerful and precise. And I fear it's not the first time they've moved from the shadows."

There was a long pause.

Kai broke it. "Have you ever seen a rune like the one on Shen's box?"

Kong was quiet for a breath too long. Then he answered.

"Yes. Once. A long time ago, buried in records even most elders never read."

Kai turned fully toward him.

Kong continued, "It belongs to an era most sects have tried to forget. Back when the cultivation world was shaped not by rivalry, but by unity. Back when the Three Sages still walked together."

Kai's breath caught slightly. "You mean Mo Xuan, Jiang Xue and Ren Wuji."

Kong nodded. "Yes. They were more than powerful cultivators, they were a trio of visionaries. Our founder Mo Xuan, the calm scholar, sought balance in all things. Jiang Xue, the sword prodigy, tempered strength with kindness." He continued. "Ren Wuji was a free spirit, fierce and unconventional. He ignored the formal hierarchies of cultivation sects. To him, the conventions and rigid paths laid out by the great clans and orthodox schools were unnecessary."

Kai listened in stillness.

"The three of them wandered the provinces together," Kong said. "Exploring forbidden ruins, challenging corrupted sects, protecting forgotten villages. They weren't leaders then—just idealists. Young, fierce, inseparable. Word of their deeds spread quickly, and soon, their reputation resounded far and wide."

Kai closed his eyes for a moment, imagining it.

"But something fractured between them," Kai said softly.

Kong gave a grave nod. "Something irreparable. We know how it ended. Mo Xuan founded Obsidian Peak. Jiang Xue married Dai Tianxiang, leader of the Azure Cloud Sect. And Ren Wuji… vanished from the histories."

"But not from the world," Kai murmured.

"No." Kong looked at him. "The rune on that box, it bears resemblance to symbols traced to Ren's faction."

Kai's jaw tightened. "And now those same symbols reappear in the hands of Shen Zhenhai."

"Exactly."

They stood in silence.

"It feels personal," Kai said after a while. "Like this puppet master isn't just targeting the sect. They're targeting me."

Kong didn't answer directly.

Instead, he said, "The past doesn't remain buried, Kai. I have the feeling that Shen's fall was just the beginning."

Kai looked toward the horizon once more, where the stars pulsed faintly like fragments of forgotten oaths. They hung in the night like witnesses to secrets long buried.

"We'll go through it all again," he murmured. "Every trace, every fragment. If someone's pulling the strings from the shadows… I'll find them. No matter how deep they've sunk."

Elder Kong placed a hand on his shoulder—firm, grounding. "Just remember, Kai… truth has a weight of its own. Some things buried were meant to stay buried. And some truths bite harder than any blade."

Kai said nothing.

But as the silence returned and the stars wheeled overhead, he forged the promise in his heart.

He would follow the trail—through ancient runes and cursed relics, through broken sects and forbidden knowledge. He would strip the darkness of its masks, piece by piece.

And when he reached the one behind it all, he would bring the truth to light.