Chapter 12: The Sealed Pillar

The silence hanging behind the cracked stone felt like a breath that hadn't been released. Beneath the damp scent of earth and dust, Yanzhi could hear his own heartbeat pounding slowly, clashing with the whispers of the spirit in his head—voices that seemed to call him deeper into a place that promised no way back.

That cold voice cut through the heavy air. Han Ye dropped down lightly from the rock above, like a blade carried by the wind. With a simple flick of his hand, a swirl of wind pushed the toxic mist away from Yanzhi's body.

Yanzhi coughed hard, half-conscious, looking up. "You…"

"Don't talk. You're breathing like a fish on dry land."

Han Ye stepped closer to the Jade, eyes narrowing as he studied the area. Then he spoke, voice low.

"A barrier. But not just any kind—it drains your spirit force. You were reckless."

Yanzhi clenched his jaw. "I figured that out… now."

"Oh, I can tell."

Han Ye glanced at him, then sighed. "Stick with me. If you wander off on your own again, I'm not dragging you back a third time."

"Why did you come here now?" Yanzhi asked, his voice strained.

Han Ye replied flatly, "You think I came looking for you? I need the Jade too."

With one swift motion, he freed a piece of Jade from the now-cleared trap and tossed it over to Yanzhi.

"One for you. I don't like owing favors. Now we're even."

Yanzhi caught the Jade, staring at it for a moment. Inside him, something twisted—a strange mix of curiosity, reluctant admiration, and mild annoyance.

"Are you always this weird?"

"If helping someone who's about to die counts as weird to you, then yes. Absolutely."

The toxic mist around them started to thin, but in the distance… a low growl echoed once more.

Han Ye didn't look back as he spoke. "We're not done yet. This valley… isn't done with us."

---

The mist might have thinned, but the ground around them was far from calm. Han Ye's steps slowed as he narrowed his eyes at the stone where the Jade had been found.

"Don't get too comfortable just yet," he muttered.

BRUUMMM!

The ground rumbled softly, then harder. From the crack near the stone altar, thick black smoke rose, swirling into a dense vortex. Out of it emerged a tall, thin creature with skin like charred coal and eyes that glowed red, like embers from hell.

The creature let out a low growl, a deep sound that seemed to come from the bowels of the earth.

Yanzhi tensed. Inside his mind, the spirit's voice came through, cold and grim.

"Black Mist Guardian... This isn't an ordinary spirit. It's part of an ancient seal. And you two just woke it up."

Han Ye stepped back half a pace, his eyes narrowing further.

"If this is a guardian, then we really shouldn't be here."

Yanzhi let out a short scoff.

"Great. Just now figuring that out?"

In his mind, the spirit hissed sharply.

"Finally catching on. But if you both die like idiots here, don't expect me to lift a finger to save you."

The creature moved—big, but terrifyingly fast. Its long arm swept through the air, sending out a rough spiritual shockwave that flung both Han Ye and Yanzhi backward.

Yanzhi barely caught himself before he hit the ground.

"Team up?"

Han Ye glanced at him briefly, voice flat as ever.

"For now. But don't get used to it."

Yanzhi managed a weak grin.

"Too many people have told me that today."

"Because you're stubborn," the spirit scoffed in his mind. "And the stubborn ones usually die first."

The creature lunged again, its body cutting through the mist like a shadow. Han Ye slammed his foot down, summoning a pillar of wind beneath him to block it. Yanzhi drew a deep breath, his spiritual flame flickering to life.

"Move your left foot faster. If you don't, you'll lose your right arm in five seconds," the spirit whispered like a mocking drill master.

Yanzhi didn't answer but adjusted his stance immediately.

The creature's strike came down. Yanzhi dodged just a hair quicker than before. Flame burst from the side of his arm, searing the creature's chest.

Han Ye followed up with a blast of whirling wind. The creature howled, then leapt back, the mist rolling in again to hide its shape.

"You think we can beat that thing?" Yanzhi asked silently.

"If I were fighting, I'd end it in ten seconds," the spirit replied, arrogant as ever. "But you? Give it three minutes and you'll be bones."

Yanzhi steadied his breath.

"Then guide me. But don't take over."

"…Hmph. Finally speaking like a fighter. Fine. One more hit. Attack from the left when Han Ye draws its focus to the right. Aim just under the neck. That's its power knot."

Yanzhi gave a small nod.

"Han Ye! When I say now—go for its right side, the head!"

Han Ye didn't ask questions. He only gave a small nod.

"Now!"

A blast of wind shot toward the creature's head. At the same time, Yanzhi pushed off the rocks, launching from the left, flame blazing in both palms.

"Fanghuo Shiran!" (Fang of Fire Strike)

The explosion of fire ripped through the mist, slamming straight into the creature's neck. A loud crack echoed through the air, followed by a deep howl as the creature crashed to the ground, its body crumbling and turning into black ash.

Silence fell for a moment.

Yanzhi stood there, breathing hard. Han Ye slowly lowered his hand.

"Not bad," Han Ye muttered. "Guess you're not that useless after all."

"You're not that annoying when you're quiet," Yanzhi shot back with a tired half-smile.

"And for once... you didn't make me want to curse all of humankind," the spirit muttered coldly.

Yanzhi held back a grin.

Deep inside, he knew... that was praise.

---

Above the ground now shrouded only by a thin veil of mist, Yanzhi stared at his clenched fist, still trembling and warm from the lingering traces of his flame.

Han Ye was already walking away, leaving behind a faint trail of cold wind.

"Don't get too proud," the spirit muttered lazily in his head. "That was just a minor guardian. Beyond this mist, there's a seal far more bloodthirsty waiting for you."

Yanzhi took a long breath, ignoring the ache in his leg. He looked down at the piece of Black Mist Jade in his grip.

At least… this time, I didn't die.

The faint sound of crumbling stone echoed as fine dust drifted down from the ceiling of the ancient altar. Beneath the thinning mist, the crack in the stone slab—once a narrow split—had widened enough for a person to slip through.

Yanzhi stood at its edge, his breath still heavy. In his palm, the Black Mist Jade pulsed faintly with a warmth that almost felt alive. A few steps away, Han Ye stood with his arms crossed, staring at the opening in silence.

"This crack…" Yanzhi murmured, swallowing hard. A cold draft rose from below—an unnatural cold, carrying the damp scent of old earth mixed with rusted iron. Whatever was down there… was waiting.

In his mind, the familiar hiss came sharper than before.

"Go in. There's another shard down there. I can feel it."

Yanzhi frowned. "You sure? What if it's just a trap?"

"Idiot. An old seal doesn't break open for no reason. Break the rest, take the Jade—see what they've buried."

Han Ye broke the silence. "Are you planning to stand there forever?" His tone was flat, but his eyes were wary, almost suspicious.

"I'm… just making sure it's not a death hole," Yanzhi muttered.

Han Ye let out a short scoff. "Nothing here is safe."

He stepped forward first. Without hesitation, his figure vanished into the darkness beyond the crack. Yanzhi exhaled, feeling the spirit's presence pressing in his head like hot embers.

"Stay here and die, or go find out the truth?" the spirit's whisper curled around him, mocking.

Yanzhi tightened his grip around the Jade—then stepped in after him.

The air inside the passage beneath the altar felt different. Warm, yet it sank into the bones like a slow burn. The walls were rough stone, etched with ancient symbols that glowed faintly in shades of blue and black. The scent of the Black Mist Jade grew stronger here, slipping into their lungs, making each breath feel heavy.

Han Ye walked a few steps ahead, his right hand trailing along the symbols carved into the walls.

"Do you feel this?" he asked quietly.

Yanzhi only nodded. "This… doesn't feel like ordinary Jade."

A sharp, mocking laugh sparked in his mind — the spirit's voice, cold and dark.

"It's not ordinary Jade. It's a piece of the seal. Break them all, or you'll never be free."

Han Ye turned his head sharply. "Who are you talking to?"

Yanzhi flinched, just for a heartbeat. "What?"

"Your face. Your voice. You're—" Han Ye narrowed his eyes. "—whispering to yourself."

Yanzhi squared his shoulders. "None of your business."

Han Ye only snorted, but his eyes didn't leave Yanzhi, as if trying to peel away whatever secrets hid behind that guarded stare.

They pressed deeper into the passage. The tunnel narrowed, the ceiling dropping lower until they had to crouch slightly. In places, shards of dark Jade jutted out from the walls, giving off a faint pulse of light. Yanzhi pressed his palm against one — it throbbed under his touch, like a heartbeat.

The spirit's voice came again, colder than before.

"Take it. Draw some of its strength. It'll feed you… and wake me up a little faster."

"Shut up," Yanzhi whispered under his breath. But his fingers moved anyway, tracing the crack in the Jade.

Han Ye stepped closer. "What are you doing?"

"Taking… what we need." Yanzhi's voice was soft, almost like a chant under his breath.

Han Ye stared, unblinking. For a moment, Yanzhi didn't look like just another disciple of Tianhan Sect anymore. There was something under his skin — like a stray spark wrapped in mist.

Han Ye hissed quietly. "What are you—"

A rumble cut him off. The ground beneath their feet trembled, then the grinding scrape of ancient metal echoed through the narrow passage. At the far end, a stone door — etched with demonic seal marks — slowly creaked open, revealing a round chamber beyond.

The air spilling out carried the smell of damp earth mixed with old blood. Han Ye stepped back half a pace, his spiritual energy shifting uneasily.

"I don't like this," he muttered flatly.

Yanzhi kept his palm pressed to the Jade, eyes locked on the stone door. In his mind, the spirit's whisper turned sweet — a sweetness that felt like poison.

"Good. One step closer. Beyond that door… you'll see why they sealed it away for centuries."

Han Ye shot Yanzhi a sharp look, voice low and cold.

"If you have secrets, keep them. But if you drag me into danger in there, I'll be the first to bury you right here."

Yanzhi just met his eyes, his smile faint.

"Perfect. We don't trust each other anyway."

---

The stone door swung open completely. Damp air hit their faces, carrying the scent of earth and old secrets. Inside, stone lanterns flickered to life on their own, casting a dim blue glow across walls lined with circles of sealing marks.

At the center of the chamber, a massive stone pillar rose from the ground, its surface carved with demonic symbols that pulsed slowly like a heartbeat.

Yanzhi held his breath. The spirit inside him let out a low laugh that seemed to vibrate in his chest.

"Welcome to your first little truth. So… ready to keep going, or planning to run?"

Han Ye shot him a sidelong glance, resting his hand on the hilt of his weapon.

"If you're going to back out, now's the time."

Yanzhi shook his head, eyes fixed on the sealing pillar ahead, his breath tight in his throat.

"I'm not backing out."

In that narrow passage, a thin mist began to swirl at their feet — as if waiting to see who would dare step closer to a secret that should have stayed buried.