Lightning circled the shrine like dragons made of light. The sky above Mount Ruomu raged, but the snow within the shrine had turned to ash. Winds screamed across the stone, but within the circle of crimson runes, there was only silence.
Li Shenhai stepped into the shrine, his blade drawn, eyes steady despite the storm raging around him.
Across from him stood the Guardian, Mo Xuantai, motionless and towering. Six swords were still buried in his back, but he moved like a man free of weight or regret.
"I once stood where you stand now," the Guardian said, voice like grinding stone.
"And yet you kneel in chains," Shenhai replied. "What did your power cost you?"
The Guardian's eyes glowed.
"Everything. And it will take everything from you, too."
Without another word, the duel began.
Their blades clashed.
Not steel against steel—but soul against soul. Each strike of Wuji summoned storms, while Mo Xuantai's every motion shattered the air. The shrine trembled with every blow.
Shenhai's second mark flared. The Crimson Soul surged—not as a weapon, but as a presence. It demanded blood. It demanded surrender.
"Let go," it whispered. "You'll never win unless you become me."
But Shenhai resisted.
He was losing. Faster. Stronger. Mo Xuantai's experience overwhelmed him.
Then—just as the Guardian raised his hand for a final, killing blow—
A voice rang out.
Sweet. Cold. Terrible.
"That is enough."
The world paused.
From the shrine's shadows stepped a woman in red silk, veiled, her feet hovering inches above the ground.
The Red Veil Sect had arrived.
Behind her came dozens—figures cloaked in red and black, all bearing sigils on their chests like Shenhai's… but older, deeper, pulsing with hunger.
The Guardian turned. His face twisted with hatred.
"You dare defile this place again?"
"He is the Chosen Vessel," the veiled woman said. "He is ours."
Shenhai, gasping, asked: "Who… are you?"
"We are the Red Veil," she whispered. "And you are the key to her return."
"To who?"
The woman smiled beneath the veil.
"The Bloodmother."
Suddenly, the ground cracked. Shenhai's soul mark erupted—a third tally burned into his skin. He collapsed, screaming—not in pain, but transformation.
His vision blurred—he saw Xiao Lan in the ruins, a dark mist gathering behind her. He saw the Azure Cloud Sect preparing to march. He saw Feiyan bleeding in a temple, surrounded by fire.
And he saw the Bloodmother's eyes… open.
Mo Xuantai surged forward. "I will not let this happen again!"
But the veiled woman raised a single finger.
The Guardian froze—mid-attack—his own sigils glowing violently.
"You forgot, old soul," she said. "You were ours before you broke free."
Chains of red light wrapped around him, dragging him backward—his body vanishing in flame and mist.
The Red Veil did not fight Shenhai. Not yet.
They bowed.
"When you are ready," the veiled woman said, "you will find us. Or she will find you."
And they vanished into the storm.