Chapter 95: The Crimson Gateway

Han Long sat cross-legged within a jagged cavern hollowed deep into the bones of the Jade Spine Mountains. The flickering light of a fire danced across the rough stone walls, casting elongated shadows that made the chamber seem alive. Before him, arranged in a perfect circle atop a stone pedestal, lay the five elemental rings—each representing one of the primal forces of existence: Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, and Lightning.

Each ring pulsed with a unique energy. The Fire Ring radiated a gentle, simmering heat. The Water Ring shimmered with beads of condensation that never fell. The Earth Ring sat immovable, etched with veins of glowing green ore. The Wind Ring vibrated almost imperceptibly, and the Lightning Ring sparked occasionally with flashes of blue-white arcs.

He had fought beasts, endured traps, and clashed with rival cultivators to claim these relics. And now he had them all.

The jade pendant that hung from his neck—the same one that had sealed him within the Cave of Trials—began to glow faintly. Han's eyes flicked toward it as a whisper stirred within his mind.

"Now that the rings are in your possession, the path to the Void Realm lies before you."

Han didn't respond aloud. He knew the pendant didn't require speech to communicate.

"Ordinarily, the portal to the Void Realm must be activated by five elemental masters—each bearing one ring, channeling their respective energies in unison."

Han's eyes narrowed.

"I don't have five allies."

"Correct," the pendant answered. "There is another way."

A brief silence.

"In fifteen days, the moon shall turn crimson. A Blood Moon, the only time the ambient forces of Chaos are strong enough to substitute elemental harmony with demonic convergence."

The pendant pulsed ominously.

"There exists a technique long sealed. If mastered, you alone can channel the power of all five rings and unlock the Void Realm without the aid of others."

Han looked toward the five rings. Power was within reach.

And so he began the training.

The convergence technique, according to the pendant, was called Rite of Fivefold Dissonance. It was originally created by a sect that no longer existed, wiped from the realms after their teachings were declared forbidden by the great cultivator alliances.

Han sat within a circle marked in blood and charcoal. Each ring was placed at a cardinal point: North for Water, South for Fire, East for Wind, West for Earth, and the Lightning Ring hovering above him at the center, suspended unnaturally in midair by the oppressive presence of the converging demonic force.

He recited the chants taught by the pendant in guttural syllables that seemed to scrape against the inside of his skull. Each phrase pulled at his Qi, warping it, reshaping its natural balance into something else—volatile, unstable, ravenous.

Dark tendrils of black Qi slithered along his veins, threading like ink through his arteries.

Sweat poured down his face. His muscles spasmed. His lungs felt like they were being pressed by hands unseen.

Each time he faltered in his recitation, the rings pulsed ominously, threatening to repel him with raw force. Each time he continued, they glowed brighter—acknowledging the shift in his Qi.

Three days passed in unbroken meditation.

Han screamed as his body convulsed under the force of a backlash. His hands clawed into the earth as he coughed up black blood, steam rising from his skin. The pendant's voice was unrelenting.

"Do not stop. The convergence must become natural. Let the demonic Qi become your second nature."

And so he did.

Again and again.

Pain, collapse, renewal.

Until his breathing stabilized.

Until the rings began to orbit him slowly, resonating in unison.

Until his eyes opened—and within them, glowed five faint colors, swirling like galaxies trapped within pupils.

That night, as Han meditated under a sky veiled in clouds, his mind was pulled into a vision—an expanse beyond mortal comprehension.

He found himself floating above an endless, shifting sea of colors. Skies of indigo swirled with amethyst mist. Mountains drifted upside down in the air. Oceans hung from the clouds. Lightning bolts arced sideways across gravity-defying terrain.

This was the Void Realm.

A realm untouched by natural law, where time bled into itself and space folded like parchment.

Voices—dozens, hundreds—whispered in languages he had never heard. A cacophony of warnings, prayers, and invitations.

Then, amid the chaos, a single voice echoed through his soul, feminine and ancient.

"Child of struggle… beware. The price of entry is not always paid with blood. Sometimes it is paid with self."

He turned, but there was no form. Only sound. Only intent.

Han tried to speak, but his mouth would not move. Instead, the rings hovering around him began to glow even within the vision, responding to the call of the Void.

The Fire Ring erupted in a column of black flame.

The Earth Ring shuddered, cracking the terrain beneath.

The Wind Ring howled, sending gales across the twisted sky.

The Water Ring surged into a tsunami that defied gravity.

The Lightning Ring screamed, sending bolts into every direction.

Han was thrown from the vision like a stone cast from a sling.

He woke, drenched in sweat, breath short.

And the five rings before him were glowing in rhythm.

That could only mean one thing.

They were ready.

By the eleventh day, Han stood at the precipice of a breakthrough he hadn't anticipated. Every time he activated the convergence technique, the rings vibrated with stronger resonance, almost eager.

During his twelfth convergence session, the cave around him shook.

Lines of glowing silver etched themselves into the stone floor beneath the rings, tracing patterns that formed a star-like symbol with an eye at its center.

Then—more lines. They crept outward, toward the cave wall, then spread along the stone like veins, until they formed an elaborate map.

Han knelt, inspecting it. A symbol in the shape of a jagged spire caught his eye.

Obsidian Peak.

The pendant pulsed again.

"The portal lies beneath the Obsidian Peak Sect. Only those who bear the rings may see the path."

Han's eyes gleamed.

He had his answer.

He packed the rings and doused the fire, cloaking himself in a simple traveler's robe. His scars hidden, his power suppressed. He would travel in shadow.