Chapter 50 – The Brand and the Blade
Dawn broke with no birdsong.
Just silence.
The kind that presses against the bones.
Rael sat alone, his back against a gnarled root, eyes glazed over from lack of sleep. The fire had died in the night, and the ashes from the previous evening's ritual still whispered with faint silver embers.
He traced his fingers across his palm.
Where the Ashen Brand had etched itself into his flesh, a pattern now shimmered faintly—like a swordstroke drawn in memory, not ink. The shape resembled a half-open eye, split by a single line.
A cut across remembrance.
He could feel it when he closed his eyes. The Echo of the Hollow Blade. Every technique he had ever seen, even briefly—stored like phantoms in his marrow. He could wield them now.
But the cost remained.
He could no longer remember why he had once wanted to become a swordmaster in the first place.
The vision, the hope, the child's dream?
Gone.
Burned for power.
---
[Trait Active: Echo of the Hollow Blade]
Stored Signatures: 12
– Lunar Petal Slaughter (Yue Qingshi – Yue Style)
– Bone Crescent Arc (Dawn Wolf Alpha)
– Thousandfold Bite (Crimson Fang Cultivator)
– Steel Rain Waltz (Wandering Blade Sect)
…and more.
Memory Debuff: [Swordmaster's Dream – Erased Permanently]
---
Yue Qingshi approached quietly, her steps almost inaudible. She carried a small pouch of steamed rice and preserved vegetables. Not because he needed food—but because it was something normal.
Something human.
She handed it to him without a word.
He took it. Ate in silence.
Only when he finished did she speak.
"You've changed."
Rael didn't look up.
"I'm not finished changing."
Her jaw tightened. "That's what I'm afraid of."
---
They broke camp an hour later.
Their destination: Niuhe Gorge, a scar of stone and crimson fog that marked the beginning of the southern Exiled Lands—territory abandoned after the Celestial War, rumored to hold tombs of ancient sects long dead.
The system's directive had been clear.
"Seek the Second Brand – it lies beneath forgotten ruins where the earth remembers blood."
Rael had known exactly where to go.
---
They rode rented spirit-beasts—a pair of low-tier Windhorn Qilins, their hooves gliding silently over terrain.
The journey southward stretched across two days.
And it changed everything.
The world grew stranger with every step.
Trees with bark like black iron.
Skies that shimmered as if painted on glass.
At night, stars whispered to each other in dead languages.
And always, the sense that they were being watched.
Not by people.
But by memories.
---
At the edge of the Gorge, the land split violently, dropping hundreds of meters into a yawning chasm.
A shattered staircase wound its way downward—carved ages ago, now cracked and overgrown.
At the bottom: remnants of a broken gate, half-buried in red moss.
Words once etched in stone now worn smooth.
Rael stood at the edge of the descent.
Yue Qingshi exhaled beside him.
"Whatever lies down there... do you think it'll be worth it?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then, softly: "It doesn't matter."
He took the first step down.
---
The descent was quiet.
Too quiet.
Even the sounds of their footsteps seemed swallowed by the air.
Halfway down, the stone shifted.
A trap activated—a sudden burst of spectral flame engulfed the stair.
Rael didn't flinch.
He stepped through it.
The Echo of the Hollow Blade activated without conscious thought—his sword snapping forward in a motion he had never practiced, only seen.
Lunar Petal Slaughter – Activated
He passed through the fire untouched.
Behind him, Yue stared.
"You're using my technique…"
Rael looked back.
"Better than you, I think."
She nearly shoved him down the stairs.
---
At the base of the Gorge, the temperature dropped. Not cold. Empty.
As if the warmth of the world had been drained from the soil.
The temple ruins ahead resembled a giant ribcage—curved white stone arching toward the sky. It had once been a Sect Hall, Rael guessed. Maybe even sacred.
Now, it was a mausoleum.
They entered through the ribs.
And the air screamed.
Not out loud.
In their minds.
[System Warning: Cognitive Pressure Detected – Willpower Test Initiated]
Begin Resistance Roll…
Rael: Passed.
Yue Qingshi: Passed.
Yue Disciples: 2 Failed – Status: Unconscious.*
---
The floor cracked with every step.
Symbols of ancient clans had been chiseled into the stones, only to be defaced and replaced with a single recurring sigil—three crossed blades wrapped in chains.
Rael felt something stir in his chest.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"Here," he said. "It's here."
Yue nodded slowly. "You sure?"
He stepped forward.
A heartbeat later, the earth exploded.
---
From beneath the ruined altar, a massive figure burst forth.
Seven arms. No face. Wrapped in rusted chains and cloth. Blades protruded from every joint. It howled in a thousand tongues.
[System Alert: Guardian Remnant Detected – Ashen Brand Protector]
Name: Warden of the Bladeless Temple
Type: Soul-Bound Construct
Tier: ???
Affinity: Blood-Steel Binding
Access to Second Brand requires victory.
---
Rael drew his blade.
So did Yue.
But Rael didn't attack.
He watched.
Waited.
Every motion of the Warden—its swings, its footwork—he absorbed.
Echo of the Hollow Blade – Technique Stored:
– "Chain Surge Cleave"
– "Steelbind Grip"
– "Reaver Spiral"
He didn't fight the Warden.
He learned it.
And then used its own moves against it.
Fifteen minutes of brutal exchange later, the Warden's core cracked.
It collapsed.
And at its heart—glowing faintly—lay the Second Ashen Brand.
---
Rael touched it.
This time, the pain hit harder.
Not in the mind.
In the soul.
[Ashen Brand – "Echo of the Steel Pact" Acquired]
Effect: Temporarily grants resistance against all soul-based attacks. Allows binding of one Construct-Class companion.
Memory Loss: "Childhood Promise – Forgotten."
---
Rael staggered back, blinking.
Yue caught his arm.
"What did it take this time?"
He didn't answer.
Because he no longer remembered who had once made him promise to never walk a path of blood.
The memory was gone.
And he didn't miss it.
---
Above, the Gorge shifted.
And somewhere far beyond it, a third Brand stirred.
Waiting.