Chapter 48: The Emperor’s Whisper

As they advanced, a cold silence enveloped them, broken only by the faint drip of water echoing in the distance. Yang's mind raced over the fragments of history intertwined with legend—Qin Shi Huang's obsession not merely with immortality, but with controlling the very essence of life and death.

They entered a vast hall, its walls lined with statues of terracotta warriors, their expressions frozen in eerie half-smiles. But their eyes—carved from obsidian—seemed to shimmer, reflecting a hidden knowledge.

At the center stood an ancient throne, its surface etched with inscriptions in a script older than the Qin dynasty itself. Yang approached cautiously, sensing a presence.

Suddenly, a whisper—a voice barely audible, yet dripping with authority—reverberated through the hall.

"You carry the blood of vessels... but are you ready to bear the curse?"

Yang's breath caught, the voice chilling his very soul. It was as if the First Emperor himself spoke, from beyond time.

Anqi's lantern flickered as the statues seemed to lean forward imperceptibly, their eyes glowing faintly.

"The emperor's will permeates this place," she said softly. "He sought not just to bind power, but to rule death itself."

Yang's experience with ancient curses told him this was a trap—a test of will, designed to break the mind.

He steadied himself, focusing on the copper talisman warm against his chest.

"The Womb is not just a prison," Yang whispered. "It's a judgment."