Chapter 17: Shattered Seals
Elian stepped onto the glowing staircase, each step humming with power that resonated deep within his bones. The Vault behind him sealed shut, cutting off all retreat. There was no going back now.
The air grew heavier the deeper he descended. Not with heat or cold, but with presence. Something ancient and aware stirred beneath the stone. The starlight steps ended in a grand chamber unlike any Elian had seen before. Pillars rose like titans, each etched with celestial runes, and in the center—a suspended sphere of molten gold, spinning slowly above an altar of obsidian.
His heart pounded.
The moment he stepped closer, the sphere reacted. Streams of golden light shot out, wrapping around his arms, legs, and chest, lifting him from the ground. His body arched, suspended mid-air, as an overwhelming torrent of memories flooded his mind.
He was no longer Elian the outer disciple.
He saw himself—not as he was, but as a child surrounded by flames, watched over by robed figures with masks of fire. He heard their chants, their prophecy: "He who bears the Celestial Veins shall break the seals of heaven."
He saw the night his spirit was sealed.
A woman with silver eyes knelt beside his crib, tears falling as she traced golden runes onto his skin. Her voice echoed in the chamber of his mind: "Forgive me, my son. The world is not ready for your truth."
The golden energy withdrew, dropping Elian to his knees. He gasped, clutching his chest. The spiritual veins within him were now visible, glowing faintly beneath his skin like constellations.
"You remember," a voice echoed—not from the chamber, but from within him.
Elian stood slowly. "What are you?"
"I am what they tried to bury. Your ancestral flame. Your true core. The seal is broken, Elian. And now, you must rise."
He didn't feel different. He felt alive. His senses expanded, taking in details he had never noticed before—the vibration of energy in the stone, the rhythm of his own blood, the pulse of the world itself.
Then he felt it.
The call.
A presence was approaching the vault. One that should not be there.
Elian rose, his feet barely touching the floor. The golden light around him faded into his body, hidden once more. He leapt back up the staircase, not walking—gliding. Each movement was precise, effortless. His cultivation had surged beyond anything he knew. From the Fourth Layer to the Seventh? Eighth?
No.
He was outside the scale.
The vault's entrance cracked as he emerged, just as a group of black-clad figures descended into the ruined temple. At their front was a man with robes marked by blood-red talismans.
Elian hid behind a broken pillar and listened.
"We're too late," the leader growled. "The Vault has been opened. The Celestial Vessel is awakening."
One of the others hissed. "Should we report to the Lord Commander?"
The leader paused. "Not yet. We kill whoever's inside first."
Elian's gaze sharpened.
So they knew. They wanted him dead. Whoever had sealed his power also sent these assassins to finish what the seal couldn't.
He stepped from the shadows.
"Looking for someone?"
The assassins whirled, weapons drawn—but they were too slow.
Elian raised a hand. Light exploded outward, forming a golden sigil in the air. It pulsed once.
The air bent.
Three of the assassins collapsed, unconscious before they hit the ground.
The leader snarled, drawing a sword inscribed with cursed runes. "You dare? Do you know who we serve?"
"No," Elian replied calmly. "But you serve the wrong master."
He moved like lightning.
One second he was standing still, the next he was behind the leader, palm pressed to the man's back. Energy surged, and the man's spiritual core shattered with a sound like glass breaking under pressure.
The remaining two assassins fled.
Elian didn't pursue.
He stood still, breathing slowly, letting the flow of new power settle.
He was no longer a shadow of his potential. He was rising. And the world had begun to take notice.
Far above the ruins, in the high towers of the Imperial Sect, bells began to toll.
A Vessel had awakened.