Chapter 13: The Broken Seal

Yanzhi froze in front of the half-open stone door. A thin, cold mist crept out, pressing against his skin like an icy hand. Beyond it lay a narrow chamber — ancient carvings covered the walls, strange symbols pulsing with a dim bluish glow.

Han Ye stood half a step ahead, eyes sharp, fingers resting on the hilt of his blade, ready for anything.

"This isn't just a cave," he murmured under his breath.

Yanzhi narrowed his eyes. In his mind, the spirit's voice slipped in, cold — but with a hint of satisfaction.

"Look at that… Fragments of an old ward. A prison for filthy spirits. Those heavenly bastards dumped their trash down here long ago."

Yanzhi held his breath. The air inside the chamber felt thick — pressing against his lungs. At its center, on a low stone altar, lay a shard of blackish-blue crystal, faintly pulsing as if it was alive.

Han Ye glanced back slightly. "The source of the poison mist outside… this is it?"

The spirit snorted. "More than that. Beneath that rock runs an old vein — filthy but strong. Still want to crawl through mud forever? Take it. Let a little darkness crack the shackles in your bones."

"Shackles…?" Yanzhi muttered in his head.

"A human body is fragile. Your spiritual force is caged. If you don't break it from the inside, you'll die young — or get eaten alive by someone stronger." The spirit's tone dropped lower, almost coaxing. "Touch it. Let me guide you. Just a little… enough to open the door."

Han Ye stepped closer to the altar, casting him a sharp look. "What's wrong with you? Your face looks like you swallowed rotten dust."

Yanzhi quickly turned away. "None of your business."

Han Ye's eyes stayed on him — a flicker of suspicion crossed his gaze as he glanced at the shard, then at Yanzhi's clenched fist. He didn't ask, but he didn't look away either.

The spirit hissed again, a whisper at the edge of Yanzhi's mind. "Do it. Before that wind brat starts whining. Take it — or rot at the bottom of this valley."

Yanzhi drew a slow breath. His hand lifted, hesitant, reaching for the shard. His fingers hovered just above the cold surface.

Han Ye's voice cut in, flat but edged like a blade. "If that thing's a trap, you planning to die here?"

Yanzhi didn't look at him. "Just shut up. I know what I'm doing."

His palm touched the crystal.

Instantly, cold seeped into his arm. The shard pulsed, echoing something deep in his chest. The symbols on the walls flared brighter. The mist on the floor thickened, swallowing the last echoes of sound.

Inside his skull, the spirit's whisper coiled around his thoughts — a low laugh echoing behind the fog.

"Good, Yanzhi… Just a crack. Let's loosen the chains they buried in your bones. The rest… you don't need to know."

A faint tremor ran through his fingertips. Yanzhi held his breath, eyes fixed on the shard now beating like a hidden heart.

But the moment shattered too quickly. A dry, scraping sound rose beneath the altar's cracks. The thin mist gathered — thickening — swirling into a dark vortex in the corner of the chamber.

In his mind, the spirit's laugh sharpened, dripping into his ears like poison.

"Good. Now look at what you've woken up, fool."

The ground shuddered, stones cracking. From the swirling mist, two red eyes flickered open.

"The Second Layer Guardian wakes," the spirit whispered — this time, barely holding back a wicked laugh.

Yanzhi sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening at the swirling darkness now coiling violently in front of the altar.

"Good? Good my ass! You told me to touch the shard, you cursed thing!"

The spirit only snorted, amused.

"If you're weak, that's on you. You want power, right? This is the price for stepping into a bigger game."

Yanzhi clenched his fist around the shard, rage burning under his ribs.

"If I die here, you're going down with me — you know that?!"

The spirit clicked its tongue.

"If you die here, it'd be embarrassing for me. So shut up — and fight."

---

From the darkness, a pair of burning red eyes flared open. A massive shadow crawled forward — the Seal Guardian, bigger than before, its body wrapped in a thick shroud of demonic smoke. Short horns jutted from its forehead, long claws scraping lines into the stone floor.

Han Ye planted his feet firmly, a swirl of wind wrapping around his palm. "What did you bring in here?!" he snapped.

Yanzhi held his breath, eyes locked on the Guardian. The spiritual fire in his chest flickered to life, but the Spirit inside him pushed harder.

"Let me out. I'll crush this thing myself."

"No," Yanzhi whispered back, clenching his left fist. "I can handle it."

The Guardian lunged — fast for its size. Han Ye caught the first strike, wind and shadow colliding in a shower of black sparks.

Yanzhi moved too, springing off the altar, flames slashing at the Guardian's chest — but the darkness swallowed the fire whole. The Spirit's laughter echoed cold in his skull.

"Pathetic. You need me!"

Han Ye's voice cut through the chaos. "Focus! You want to die here?!"

The Guardian's claw lashed out. Han Ye blocked with a razor-thin gust, spinning to shove the beast back.

Yanzhi struck from the side — his palm blazing — slamming into the Guardian's shoulder. The demon-smoke hissed but refused to fall.

"You're wasting time! Give me control!" The Spirit snarled, voice raw.

Yanzhi bit down on his lip. "Shut up…!"

Han Ye glanced at him sharply, eyes narrowing. For the first time, there was a flicker of unease in his voice. "What are you — possessed?!"

The Guardian's chest pulsed with thick shadow. It opened its maw, spewing a wave of dark poison straight at Yanzhi — spiritual venom. The blast hit — his limbs went numb.

The Spirit's whisper dripped like poison. "Die now and I'm free. So choose — give in to me… or be erased."

Yanzhi gasped for air. Through the black haze, he caught a glimpse of Han Ye — still standing, forcing the Guardian back with a wind barrier cracking under the weight.

Han Ye's teeth clenched. "Yanzhi! Focus! If you slip now, we're both dead!"

Yanzhi sucked in a breath, eyes locking on the fragment on the altar. In a heartbeat, he slammed his foot down, fire coiling into his palm. The Spirit laughed — sharp and hungry.

"Good! Burn it! Show your fangs!"

Han Ye pivoted wide, splitting the Guardian's focus. "Now, Yanzhi!"

Yanzhi lunged. The fire in his veins burst from his arm — a blaze so dark it burned blue, unfamiliar even to him.

"Fanghuo… Shiran!"

His palm pierced the demon-smoke. A muffled explosion cracked inside the Guardian's chest. It howled, its swirling mass tearing apart before collapsing into black dust across the altar floor.

Silence.

Only their ragged breathing filled the chamber. Han Ye lowered his hand, eyes locked on Yanzhi — cold, but with something else there now: a spark of doubt.

"What… are you really?"

Yanzhi turned away, staring at the fragment on the altar, still pulsing gently in the dim glow. The Spirit inside him hissed softly, like a snake curling around his bones.

"Take it. Let the first chain break… and feel what it's like to stand above all humans."

Yanzhi froze. His fingers hovered just above the seal fragment, not quite touching it. A chill seeped into his skin — oddly enough, it cleared his mind for a heartbeat.

"…You always know too much. Far too much. What are you, really…?" he whispered inside, jaw tightening.

The Spirit chuckled softly, its echo cold as frost.

"You'll find out soon enough, Yanzhi. For now… open the way."

Yanzhi let out a short breath. His fingers dropped, closing around the fragment. The blue flame flickered in his palm, pulsing gently.

The Spirit's laugh curled through his thoughts — low, pleased.

Behind him, Han Ye stood silent just a few steps away. The haze in the chamber hadn't fully lifted.

And out in the narrow corridor beyond the altar, the faint sound of footsteps started echoing. Wei Ren. Bai Lin. Maybe more.

A new scent of conflict crept through the damp air.

---

Yanzhi tightened his grip around the fragment. Beneath his skin, he could feel something trembling — like invisible chains wrapped around his veins and bones, shifting ever so slightly. He'd heard the Spirit whisper it before: an ancient seal that kept his true power buried. One crack, and the power would grow — but with it, something darker would crawl free too.

"Good. Now take it out. Break the seals, one by one."

Han Ye stared at him, cold suspicion flickering in his eyes. But before he could say a word, footsteps echoed down the stone corridor.

Through the half-collapsed passage, Wei Ren appeared, wearing his trademark slick grin. Behind him stood Bai Lin, rigid, his hand pressed nervously to the hilt of his spear.

Wei Ren glanced back at Bai Lin with a mocking smirk, like showing off a pet. Bai Lin kept his gaze low, refusing to meet Yanzhi's eyes.

Yanzhi narrowed his eyes, voice sharp. "Bai Lin? He was with Mei Jiu in my group."

Wei Ren let out a soft, oily chuckle.

"Ah — the fog out there is cruel, isn't it? Poor friend of yours almost got lost. Lucky for him, I was there… right, Bai Lin?"

Bai Lin didn't answer. His fingers twitched on the spear shaft, shoulders stiff.

Wei Ren laughed under his breath. "Well, isn't this nice? The more the merrier."

He walked in slowly, eyes flicking over the cracked floor and the shards of black Jade scattered near Yanzhi's feet.

Wei Ren crouched down, tapping a piece of Jade with his fingertip. The soft knock echoed in the damp passageway.

His grin widened — slick, greedy, like a rat catching the scent of fresh carrion.

"Oh? What's this I hear? Cracks? Secrets?" Wei Ren's eyes darted between Yanzhi and Han Ye, glinting like a weasel sniffing out blood.

Han Ye shifted slightly, blocking part of the altar behind him. Yanzhi held his breath, slipping the fragment up his sleeve.

Wei Ren clapped his hands lazily. "Didn't you two tell the instructor you were gathering Jade above ground? And here you are, poking around some old underground seal?"

Bai Lin let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, real strange. Poison fog, broken ruins — and you're digging through them?"

Han Ye didn't answer. A thin coil of wind spun around his fingertips. Yanzhi stared ahead, face cold.

Wei Ren stepped closer, stopping just two steps from Han Ye. He looked down, eyes gleaming at the broken shards by Yanzhi's boots.

He didn't dare grab them — not yet. He just smiled, eyes sharp and calculating. "Interesting. Very interesting."

The Spirit hissed in Yanzhi's head, voice dripping with scorn. "Sneaky rat. He smells treasure, but he won't bite. Good. Let him crawl for scraps later."

Han Ye moved half a step forward, staring Wei Ren down without blinking. "What do you want?"

Wei Ren chuckled. "Relax. I'm just passing by. You know how bad the fog is out there — dangerous place to disappear, hm? Elder Fan would be so sad."

His words cut like a blade. Bai Lin gave a half-smirk, fingers tightening on his sheathed blade.

Han Ye's voice dropped to ice. "Look fast. Then get out."

Wei Ren gave a slow blink, stepping back — but his eyes lingered on Yanzhi, silent promise flashing behind that sly grin: I saw something. I won't forget.

"I'll be going, then. Careful in the fog," Wei Ren murmured, turning away, dragging Bai Lin with him. Their footsteps stayed slow — a threat in every step: I have your little secret.

When the rat's steps finally faded, Han Ye let out a sharp exhale. He turned to Yanzhi, voice low and tense with anger. "Perfect. Now we have an audience."

Yanzhi clutched the fragment tighter — the Spirit's whisper curled around his skull like a blade.

"Let him spread the word. Let the old fools come. We'll open the gate right in front of them — drag them all into the mud."

Yanzhi drew a slow breath, ignoring it. Han Ye's stare cut into him.

"You still standing?" Han Ye asked, tone flat but edged.

"I'm fine," Yanzhi murmured.

Han Ye snorted. "Keep it that way. We get out before that rat drags Elder Fan down here. Take what's left of the Jade — keep your mouth shut."

Yanzhi nodded. But in the corner of his eye, the ancient symbols on the altar seemed to flicker — whispering, calling to him to wake them again.

In his head, the Spirit's laughter stretched on and on.

"This valley is just a doorway. You knocked once. They want to close it? Too late."

And out there, swallowed by the thick fog, Wei Ren's footsteps quickened. The grin slipped off his face, replaced by something sharper — a rotten plan coiling in the back of his mind.

He wouldn't run and tattle today. No — he'd wait. Wait for the moment when this secret would cost the most to keep hidden.