Southern Gao Ling City — Xiao Clan Training Grounds
The training arena of the Xiao Clan was anything but quiet. Bustling noises filled the air—traders shouting, spectators whispering, cultivators bickering in excitement and envy. The plaza near the southern district had become a storm of energy, its heart pulsing with anticipation.
Everyone was here for one reason.
To witness the beginning of the Moon Empress's Tomb expedition—and the birth of a legend.
Rumors said that whoever emerged from that tomb alive would carry the Empress's legacy… and possibly her divine treasure. But in truth, not a single person among the crowd cared who came out alive. They were all waiting for the same moment: the chance to snatch it.
Beneath the respectful words and formal banners of the great clans lay greed—raw, burning greed. The defeated participants had lost face, but their sects remained powerful, their elders watching hungrily from the shadows.
The air of Gao Ling City was thick with suppressed killing intent.
If the Moon Empress's treasure was as powerful as rumored, then the moment it appeared could ignite a war that would shake the entire empire.
Meanwhile, within one of the city's inns, Yun Che had slept through the night like a rock.
While others honed their profound energy, polished their blades, or burned incense to calm their hearts, he simply collapsed after dinner, belly full and utterly relaxed. Retsu, Mio, and Cang Yue had found him passed out on the living room floor, sprawled in the most unheroic position possible.
Instead of moving him, they'd quietly made space beside him—Cang Yue curled near his arm, Retsu resting against his side, and Mio slept next to Retsu. For a man who sliced the skies in half, he slept with the serenity of a child.
By dawn, he awoke first, stretching lazily before getting to work.
Inside the still room, Yun Che stood before the low table, Yoru resting horizontally before him. The sunlight pouring through the window reflected off its pitch-black surface like liquid shadow.
He pressed a palm against the blade.
"System, begin infusion."
A faint vibration rippled through the air as silver-green veins spread across Yoru's surface—like veins of molten light seeping into the metal. The moment the Vibramantium merged with the sword, a low hum resonated through the room, deep and alive.
The sword's edge gleamed, darker than night yet somehow brighter than the sun.
===================
[Infusion complete.]
[Weapon durability upgraded to: Indestructible.]
[Material stability enhanced: weight reduced by 42%. Energy conduction efficiency: +300%.]
====================
Yun Che smirked. "Lighter, faster, and now completely unbreakable. That's more like it."
The Vibramantium he had acquired from the Black Merchant Guild had been barely enough to reinforce his core weapons—but it was enough for now. He infused Yoru first, then his Zanpakutō, both the Shikai and Bankai forms, ensuring every blade he carried would never break again.
At first, Zangetsu had been unbearably heavy — a burden only the Great Way of the Buddha helped him shoulder. After the Vibramantium infusion, that weight vanished. The blade kept its terrible presence, but it moved like a feather in Yun Che's hands. Every Zanpakutō at his side — Zabimaru, Sogyo no Kotowari, Sode no Shirayuki, Hyōrinmaru — took on the same miracle: lighter, deadlier, and virtually unbreakable.
Yoru, especially, felt transformed. The sword that had trembled under his energy in the arena now drank his force and smiled back. He could cast more sword-waves without worrying about the blade shuddering or cracking. Getsuga Tenshō, he decided, remained a last resort — overkill for most opponents and still a strain on both sword and wielder — but for fights beneath his cultivation he now had a reliable arsenal of devastating, repeatable energy attacks.
That done, he left the inn before dawn. In the hush of morning he slid back into his Mihawk persona so quiet no one noticed the change.
Jasmine had pestered him until sleep became training. Reluctantly, he taught her Eagle Vision with the same Haki-infused method he had used on the others. She reacted the way the rest had: wide-eyed, thrilled, then exhausted. The vision painted intent in the air — blue for friends, red for malice — but, like everyone, she couldn't keep it while sprinting. He warned her about the mental toll of channeling all senses and Haki at once; she overtrained until she simply collapsed. Let her sleep — some lessons cost more than pride.
By the time he reached the Xiao Clan training grounds, the city was awake and electric. Faces turned, whispers wound through the crowd, and every look aimed at him carried a strange mix: reverence, envy, and a new thing that made his skin prickle — fear. Jasmine's voice threaded into his mind. "Be careful. Multiple red intents around you. They didn't forget."
He flicked his Eagle Vision on and scanned. Hidden in the sea of faces were planted eyes — spies from the clans that had lost today, thinly disguised as spectators. Little clever traps. Little lies. They expected numbers to overwhelm him or Li Yue inside the tomb.
Yun Che switched the vision off and let out a quiet breath. "They think they can bully us with numbers," he murmured. "They bark loud, but they bite only if we let them."
Still, the red auras weren't a joke. Whoever planned to make a bad ending for the winners would try their luck. If they pushed, Yun Che thought, he'd make sure they learned the cost of such ambition — and not just for them, but for anyone who came after them. The tomb would be a slaughterhouse if they wanted it; he intended to set the rules instead.
"Right," Jasmine's voice echoed in his mind, calm but carrying a faint edge of jealousy. "Speaking of that Li Yue… you seem to know her rather well."
Yun Che smirked at the tone. He could practically imagine Jasmine's crimson eyes narrowing.
"Don't know. I just… feel like I know her," he replied, feigning disinterest.
"Knew her?" Jasmine pressed. "Have you met her before?"
"Nope." His answer came quick, smooth, and just vague enough. "It's more like her energy. I've felt it somewhere before. Maybe I'll unmask her one of these days to find out."
Jasmine frowned from inside his consciousness. There was something about his tone — a mix of teasing and secrecy that she didn't like — but before she could question further, he muted the connection, eyes already on the horizon.
He couldn't tell her. Not about the future, not about what he really knew. Revealing the plotline would shatter the sequence itself — and Yun Che had no intention of losing control of the board. Let the world play by its script; he'd rewrite it in his own time.
By the time he reached the Xiao Clan's training grounds, the entire southern district of Gao Ling City had transformed into a massive gathering.
The field had been excavated overnight into a gaping crater, large enough to swallow a plaza whole. From above, it looked like a colossal wound in the earth — one that bled dust, noise, and anticipation.
Spectators crowded the rim of the barrier that surrounded the site, shouting and shoving for a better view. Only the city lord, the clan elders, and the eight chosen winners were permitted inside the protection field. Everyone else could only watch.
The unearthed ruins below looked nothing like a temple anymore. Jagged walls and shattered pillars jutted from the ground like ancient bones. Age-old carvings of the Moon Empress still glimmered faintly through the dust, emanating a divine chill that made the air heavier the closer one stood.
Whispers spread through the crowd:
"That's the tomb… the Empress's resting ground."
"They say it's older than the empire itself."
"And whoever enters might never come back out…"
Mo Jianfeng arrived, flanked by guards in black armor, his expression heavy with self-importance. Behind him, the eight finalists — the so-called "chosen" — followed in formation. Most wore polished armor and gleaming weapons, their bodies wrapped in talismans, elixirs, and defensive charms. The atmosphere around them reeked of tension and distrust.
Only two stood apart from the pack.
Li Yue — her slim figure still draped in her simple black robe — and the mysterious swordsman, Dracule Mihawk, whose calm golden eyes gave no hint of fear or greed. Compared to the others, they looked… casual. Almost out of place.
As they approached the edge of the crater, Li Yue broke the silence.
"Are you… not prepared to enter the tomb?"
Her voice was quiet but tinged with disbelief. She had spent the entire night meditating, reviewing formations, and sharpening her focus for what could easily be a deathtrap. Yet this man — expressionless, unbothered — looked like he'd just come for a stroll.
Yun Che turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze beneath the brim of his hat.
"Why would I?"
"…!"
Li Yue blinked, utterly speechless. He wasn't joking. That was his honest answer.
He didn't even pretend to care about life and death inside the tomb — as though the danger meant nothing to him. A flicker of irritation crossed her usually composed face, but before she could retort, she caught the faintest curve of his lips. Was he… teasing her?
"You really don't take this seriously, do you…" she muttered under her breath.
"I take everything seriously," he replied softly. "Just not what others expect me to."
She wasn't sure if that made him arrogant or terrifying. Maybe both.
Their quiet exchange did not go unnoticed.
Across the group, several of the other finalists turned their attention toward them — specifically toward Yun Che. Their eyes were sharp, calculating. The sight of Li Yue walking beside him only deepened their unease.
"So they do know each other," whispered one elder.
"They were seen together in the Black Merchant Guild yesterday. Even the branch master bowed to them both."
"If those two team up in the tomb, we'll all be finished."
None of them approached. None dared. But the glances were enough — laden with hostility and thinly veiled fear.
Yun Che ignored them, his senses already reading their intent signatures through the faint pulse of his Haki. The air behind him shimmered faintly red.
"Same plan as before," he murmured under his breath. "If they can't climb past you, they'll try to drag you down instead."
Li Yue frowned, sensing his quiet resolve but not understanding his words.
Whatever the others saw — arrogance, indifference, or madness — Yun Che's golden eyes held only calm certainty.
The tomb would open soon.
And when it did, anyone foolish enough to stand against him would learn why even the heavens feared a swordsman who smiled while walking into danger.
==============
As they reached the outskirts of the massive crater, City Lord Mo Jianfeng finally broke the silence. His eyes swept over the colossal ruin beneath them — what was once a temple, now half-buried in time and myth.
"How long has the Xiao Clan known about this place?"
One of the escorting elders — also among the chosen eight — stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"We discovered it about a year ago, my lord. One of our disciples was sparring on this very ground when his battle technique shattered the terrain beneath him. He fell through a hole and found himself inside a massive underground hallway. Miraculously, he survived the fall."
Mo Jianfeng's brows rose with mild intrigue.
"So this entire temple was hidden right beneath the training field?"
"Yes," the elder continued. "We sent a small team to investigate. What they found wasn't ruins — but a perfectly preserved structure. The air itself seemed sealed. They reported that it looked abandoned, yet untouched by decay."
"I take it you found treasures down there?" Mo Jianfeng asked, his tone casual but his eyes gleaming with the greed shared by every ruler.
The elder shook his head.
"No treasures. No artifacts. Not even dust on the floors. The temple was utterly barren — save for one thing."
"And that is?"
"An ancient teleportation formation… with a statue at its heart."
"A statue?"
"You'll see."
The group reached the massive entrance soon after — a pair of stone doors towering high, still half-covered in dirt and moss. Workers and cultivators had spent the night clearing them, but traces of soil still clung stubbornly to the carvings.
With a low rumble, the doors opened.
A faint gust swept through the temple as ancient air met the present world for the first time in millennia. Dust floated like golden motes in the sunlight, yet what lay beyond was… immaculate.
The temple's interior stretched wide and high, every pillar still standing, every arch still bearing the intricate moon sigils of a lost empire. Even the murals, faded though they were, retained a strange vitality — as if the goddess depicted within had only just withdrawn her presence.
And in the center of the chamber stood a single statue.
A veiled woman carved from white jade, standing atop a glowing rune circle. Her features were half-hidden, yet the grace and divinity emanating from her form made even hardened warriors forget to breathe.
"So beautiful…" Mo Jianfeng whispered, his voice trembling with awe. "Such divine craftsmanship… Is this the Moon Empress herself?"
The Xiao Clan elder nodded slowly.
"We believe so. Even at first sight, none of us doubted it. That serene majesty — that untouchable air — no sculptor could imagine such a woman. It had to be her."
"Our disciples were bewitched. Some knelt. Others refused to move. And when we tried to approach…"
The elder stepped closer and reached a hand toward the teleportation formation.
Instantly, the runes beneath the statue ignited in pale silver light. A deep hum reverberated through the chamber, and a transparent barrier burst forth, encircling the statue and formation in a dome of light.
Lines of text appeared within the barrier, ancient characters of moonlight burning in midair. Slowly, the glowing words formed a single message:
"Only those who stand upon the Peak of the Sky and have endured the tempering of thirty mortal decades shall be permitted to enter my tomb."
The runes shimmered, then stilled, leaving the chamber in a heavy silence.
Jasmine's voice echoed softly in Yun Che's mind, her tone curious and unsettled.
"That's… unusual. Even in the Divine Realm, most tombs and trials are sealed to younger cultivators — not the other way around. This one restricts access to only those past thirty and at the peak of the Sky Profound Realm."
"So no children playing heroes this time," Yun Che murmured back dryly.
"You don't get it," Jasmine replied. "A formation of this precision — one that can read both cultivation realm and lifespan — is beyond even most divine architects. For it to survive here, in this world, for thousands of years…"
"Then whoever made it wasn't human," Yun Che finished for her.
A pause.
"Exactly."
The others remained transfixed by the statue — Mo Jianfeng whispering orders to his guards, the elders murmuring theories of the Empress's cultivation, and the chosen participants stealing glances at one another.
Yet Yun Che's golden eyes lingered not on the statue's beauty, but on the faint fluctuations of energy beneath her feet. The barrier pulsed faintly — a heartbeat of ancient power, familiar yet alien.
The silence inside the ancient temple was heavy, filled only with the faint hum of the glowing runes around the veiled statue. Then Mo Jianfeng raised his voice, clear and solemn.
"So, this is where your roles begin, gentlemen… and my lady. Once the ten of you step into the formation, it will activate and send you directly into the tomb. What lies beyond—none of us can say. Whatever grudges or debts you have, settle them now. Once inside, the world above cannot interfere."
A ripple of murmurs swept through the participants. The sect master of the Heaven's Above Sect took a deliberate step forward, seizing the moment.
"Fellow sect masters, since we stand as equals," he declared, voice echoing through the chamber, "why not form an alliance? The Moon Empress's legacy is too vast for one sect alone. If we share her treasures, we all gain strength—and no single faction will have to defend it alone."
A few heads nodded in cautious approval. But another elder, from the Zhou Clan, narrowed his eyes.
"An alliance is fine… but what of those without any allegiance?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. Every gaze turned, almost as one, toward Yun Che and Li Yue.
Two figures standing apart from the others. Two names whispered with equal parts awe and fear. Neither belonged to any sect. Neither bowed to any master.
"Great Swordsman Dracule Mihawk," said Shen Yimu of the Heavenly Destruction Fortress, his tone mocking politeness, "and Fairy Li Yue. I suggest the two of you join one of us. Even if you were to seize the legacy alone, could you really keep it? You're just two wanderers against the might of the Blue Wind Empire."
Several participants smirked behind their masks of civility. A few even chuckled quietly.
Li Yue felt the weight of their stares tighten around her like a noose. She said nothing, but Yun Che could sense her hesitation through the air itself—the flicker of unease in her profound energy.
And then—
Shing!
Yun Che moved. One heartbeat he was still, the next, Yoru was drawn in a single smooth arc, the tip resting lightly against the stone floor. The sound of steel filled the chamber like thunder.
Every cultivator present froze.
"So," his calm voice broke the silence, "are we settling this here and now?"
The pressure that followed was suffocating. The air trembled under his aura—quiet, contained, but heavy as the sky itself.
Guo Qing's face went white.
"Y-you… you can't fight all of us!"
Yun Che's golden eyes lifted lazily to meet his.
"Hmph. I've already seen your strength—in the arena. All of you."
He raised Yoru slightly, the black blade humming with suppressed power.
"So my question is this…"
"What if I can?"
The killing intent that flooded the chamber was suffocating. Even Mo Jianfeng's guards instinctively took a step back, hands twitching toward their weapons though they knew it would be useless.
The sect masters and elders immediately gathered their profound energy, defensive barriers flickering to life. But not one of them moved to strike. The image of the man slicing the skies still haunted their minds.
It was Li Yue who blinked first, startled by his sudden move—then secretly relieved. Intentional or not, he had stepped between her and eight possible enemies.
The tension built like drawn wire until—
"Wait!"
Mo Jianfeng hurried forward, sweat glistening on his brow.
"Wait! Let's calm down, everyone! This is sacred burial ground! Any battle here would only disgrace the Empress's tomb."
He turned toward the other sect leaders, voice rising with authority.
"Let them settle their grudges inside the tomb. The formation will decide who is worthy. If they die here, none of you will enter, and the hidden sects outside will seize the chance!"
The argument hit home. The assembled masters exchanged glances, unwillingly lowering their weapons.
"Agreed," one of them muttered. "We'll finish this inside. The real enemy is in the tomb."
A few others nodded, murmuring in reluctant assent.
Yun Che, however, didn't relax. His eyes stayed half-lidded, his mind already parsing the undercurrent of their words.
"So that's your play. Form an alliance to take us down once we're trapped inside."
He didn't bother calling them out. Instead, he gave a small, knowing smile and slowly sheathed Yoru. The echo of steel sliding into its scabbard sounded final, like a judge's gavel.
Without a word, he stepped into the teleportation circle.
The runes pulsed faintly under his boots, responding to his presence.
Li Yue exhaled softly and followed, taking her place beside him. The faint hum of his energy felt strangely reassuring—like standing near an immovable mountain.
Unbeknownst to the chosen ten, every sect and clan master present had already made their decision.
Their gazes were all locked on one man—on that black sword slung across his back.
"When that monstrous swordsman falls," they whispered to their champions, "take the blade. At any cost."
That weapon, forged from a metal no one could name, carried an aura that screamed beyond the Emperor Rank.
To possess it would mean instant ascension—power, prestige, perhaps even the right to challenge the empire's strongest sects.
Greed burned in every pair of eyes. And though they cloaked it behind polite silence, Yun Che could feel it like embers crawling across his skin.
"Let them come," he thought, expression unreadable beneath the brim of his hat. "Let's see who dies first trying."
One by one, the ten chosen participants stepped into the formation.
The moment the final foot crossed the circle's edge, the temple responded.
Light.
The eyes of the Moon Empress's statue suddenly opened—or seemed to. Twin beams of pale silver light flowed down her veiled face like tears. The energy crawled across her sculpted form, racing from cheek to shoulder, to arm, to foot—until the entire statue pulsed like a living conduit.
The runes beneath the group flared alive, weaving into a complex pattern of glowing sigils. The ancient power that slept beneath the earth for centuries roared awake.
The air grew heavy. The ground trembled.
"The formation—!" one of the elders gasped.
Before he could finish, a column of light erupted skyward, blinding everyone in the chamber.
For a split second, the ten figures could be seen—silhouetted against the glow, each tensed and ready. Then, in an instant—
They were gone.
No smoke. No sound. No lingering trace of profound energy. The light vanished as suddenly as it came, leaving only silence and the faint hum of the runes slowly dimming to black.
As if they had never existed at all.
Far above the ruins, within the blinding pillar of light, Yun Che's voice flickered through the unseen threads of his Tenteikura link.
"Retsu, Mio, Yue'er—message received?"
Retsu's familiar voice answered almost instantly in his mind, calm and clear.
"Loud and clear, Yuu-kun."
"Good," he replied. "Once I'm out, all hell's going to break loose. When that happens—start the plan."
"Roger that. We'll be waiting." Mio's tone held her usual playful lilt, but the undertone of steel wasn't lost on him.
He allowed himself a faint smile as the light consumed him completely.
"For now, relax. Have fun while you can. You'll need the energy when the leveling begins."
Then the connection faded.
The runes sealed.
And Dracule Mihawk—along with nine of the strongest cultivators in the empire—vanished into the Tomb of the Moon Empress.
==================
A flicker—then stillness.
When Yun Che's vision cleared, the light of the teleportation array was gone. The world around him had changed into utter blackness.
The first thing that struck him wasn't what he could see—it was what he could smell. The air was damp, heavy, and filled with the scent of age—like water left to stagnate over centuries.
He instinctively reached out, brushing his fingers against the nearest surface. Smooth. Cold. Hard as iron. Not the coarse texture of stone. Not the dust of brick or sand.
His brows furrowed.
"Wait… stones aren't supposed to feel like this. What kind of tomb is built from something this smooth?"
The darkness pressed in on him from all sides, thick and absolute. Even his spiritual sense was muted, like the air itself resisted being touched.
"Where in the world am I…?"
Before he could ponder further, Jasmine's voice rang in his ear—half annoyed, half uneasy.
"Appreciate it if we had some light down here. It's darker than the void."
A faint shimmer of crimson appeared beside him—her form manifesting again for the first time since they'd entered. She looked around, frowning.
"This doesn't feel like a tomb. The air's too… alive."
Yun Che chuckled softly, his tone dry and measured through Mihawk's voice.
"What did you expect? Flaming torches and a welcome carpet?"
"Wait—you mean that could actually happen?"
"It was sarcasm, Jasmine."
She pouted faintly.
"You and your sarcasm… it's infuriating."
"You're not the first person to tell me that."
Then his tone shifted back to calm precision.
"Anyway—use your Eagle Vision. It should cut through the darkness."
They both focused. In an instant, gold and crimson light flared faintly in their eyes—two halos of perception slicing through the shadows.
And what they saw made both of them freeze.
They stood inside a massive hallway—its size dwarfing even the Heavenly Sword Villa's main hall. Towering pillars stretched upward into unseen heights, each one sculpted with intricate lines that shimmered faintly under their enhanced sight. The floor beneath them was cracked and uneven, yet pristine in a strange way, as though time itself dared not erode it.
The cold surface Yun Che had touched moments earlier was one of those pillars—made not of common stone, but something dark, reflective, and unnaturally smooth. Black marble, yes—but not any marble he had ever known. The surface caught the faintest glimmers of light and sent them dancing across the walls.
Even in ruin, the place radiated grandeur.
"Remarkable…" Jasmine whispered, her voice laced with reluctant awe. "To think this is the resting place of the Moon Empress. Whoever built this must've been more than human."
Yun Che took a slow step forward, the echo of his boots bouncing through the long corridor.
"Yeah… for a tomb, it's far too majestic. And the materials—they're not from this world."
He glanced up. Black rectangular slabs lined the ceiling like mirrored glass, connected by intricate grooves that glowed faintly whenever his energy brushed near.
"This architecture…" he murmured under his breath. "No… it can't be…"
A dozen images flickered through his mind—blueprints from his old world, diagrams of alien structures found in fragments of Vibramantium research, technology beyond cultivation or magic.
"Could it be…?" He stopped mid-thought, disbelief tightening his expression. "The Moon Empress was…"
"Oi, Yuuki!" Jasmine's voice broke through his thoughts, a sharp whisper. "Still admiring the hallway? Let's move before this place decides to eat us."
"Yes… yes, I'm coming," Yun Che muttered, tone dry as he followed Jasmine's voice echoing through the darkness.
"Well, someone's excited."
Whatever questions crowded his mind, he knew they'd have to wait. This place—this so-called tomb—was anything but ordinary.
The faint orb of light he'd conjured floated beside him, casting a soft glow on the corridor's cold walls. The reflection shimmered faintly, proof that the surfaces were polished beyond what any ancient mason could achieve.
Both he and Jasmine walked carefully, their Eagle Vision illuminating the passage in overlapping gold and crimson hues while their Haki swept through the darkness like invisible radar. The air was heavy, damp—almost oppressive. But despite the weight of centuries, the architecture stood unyielding.
As they reached a massive doorway, they found themselves staring into another vast hall—this one containing a small altar built atop a stairlike platform, with a pedestal resting alone at the top.
The room was quiet. No traps. No treasures. Just stillness.
"Incredible…" Jasmine breathed, unable to help herself. The light from their orb caught on the walls, revealing ancient engravings that shimmered faintly like starlight frozen in stone.
Yun Che stepped closer to the altar, brow furrowing.
"Strange," he murmured. "Why build something like this—an altar, a pedestal—and leave it empty? No offerings, no relics… nothing."
He ran a hand along the cold edge of the pedestal. It was smooth, seamless—too smooth for hand tools. Something about the structure's angles tugged at his memory.
"This design…" he muttered. "It's familiar. Too familiar."
Jasmine, scanning the space, found nothing out of place.
"There's nothing here."
Before Yun Che could respond, a system notification chimed in his mind.
===================
[Ding… A Soul Imprint message has been detected on the altar.]
===================
He smirked faintly.
"There's always something. Whoever built this didn't leave it here for decoration."
He motioned for Jasmine to come closer. Together, they examined the altar. Even with her divine senses, she couldn't detect anything unusual.
"So," she asked curiously, "what's a Soul Imprint message?"
Yun Che's tone shifted into quiet explanation.
"A Soul Imprint is when someone uses a fragment of their soul to leave behind a recording. It doesn't hold power—just memory. A trace of their will. It can only be seen and triggered by those who perceive souls or wield unique sight."
Jasmine tilted her head.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning normal cultivators wouldn't even know it's here. Only beings like us—or someone with eyes that pierce truth—could see it."
He raised a hand and nodded toward the altar.
"Activate your Eagle Vision. You'll see what I mean."
Both pairs of eyes flared.
Then—there it was.
A faint crescent moon symbol, etched so faintly into the top of the altar that even the light refused to touch it.
Jasmine blinked.
"That's… the imprint?"
"Hnn. Bound directly into the altar. The activation method is simple enough…"
He hovered his hand just above the symbol.
Click… click… click…
The ancient mechanism stirred. A tremor ran through the floor as glowing aqua lines pulsed from the crescent moon outward, racing through the altar like veins of light.
Then, with a deep hum, the illumination spread across the entire hall.
The once-dead corridor came alive—walls, pillars, and ceiling bathing in rippling waves of soft azure light. The darkness melted away, replaced by the serene glow of something sacred and ancient.
Both of them instinctively closed their eyes as the brilliance flared, and when they opened them again…
The sight stole their breath.
The black marble gleamed like liquid crystal. The air vibrated faintly, filled with the sound of a distant resonance—like a choir of stars humming in unison.
It was beautiful. Majestic. And wrong.
Because none of it felt like something from this world.
Yun Che stared in silence before murmuring, almost to himself,
"I was right."
Jasmine turned, brow furrowed.
"Right about what?"
"It's nothing…"
"You're acting strange, Yuuki."
"I know. It's just… this altar, these pillars, the way the light moves…" He paused, golden eyes reflecting the glow. "Everything here reminds me of my old world. The geometry, the structure—it's not cultivation-era design. It's technological. Too advanced for this realm."
Even through his Mihawk persona, Jasmine could sense the tension beneath his calm words. He wasn't just intrigued—he was uneasy.
"Yuuki, I don't understand."
"You will. Later."
He turned back to the altar. "For now, let's see what message this imprint left behind."
He reached out once more, palm hovering over the crescent mark. The symbol flared again, and this time the altar responded.
A soft pulse… then projection.
A figure began to take shape above the pedestal—a ghostly silhouette woven of pure moonlight. The translucent image flickered, then stabilized.
It was a woman—veiled, graceful, her presence serene yet overwhelming. Even through the ethereal haze, her beauty was undeniable.
Jasmine's eyes widened.
"That's—"
Yun Che's gaze hardened as the phantom slowly lifted her head.
"The Moon Empress."
The air seemed to thrum faintly with her voice, the projection pulsing in rhythm with each word—as if the tomb itself was listening to its long-dead mistress.
The veiled woman's beauty was almost painful to look at. Though the light of her image wavered, the outline of her lips, the curve of her cheek, and the quiet dignity in the way she carried herself made her seem almost alive. Yun Che could imagine that in her time she had stilled entire courts with a glance.
Jasmine stepped closer, trying to touch the shimmering outline. Her hand passed through harmlessly.
"This is… that woman from the statue?"
Yun Che nodded slowly.
"Yes. The Moon Empress herself. I never expected her to be this beautiful."
"Hmph. Look at you falling under her charms already."
He gave a small, amused exhale.
"Hardly. Compared to you or Retsu, she still pales."
Her lips curved in faint satisfaction.
"Of course. This princess has always been a top beauty—it only took you long enough to realize it."
"Right…" he murmured, letting it go as he turned his attention back to the apparition.
The Moon Empress paced in a slow circle around the altar, her voice echoing softly off the marble pillars.
"Greetings, successor. If you have discovered the way to awaken this altar, then you are the one I have awaited. I built this tomb to be my final rest—and my confession. All that I endured, all that I lost, was to seal away the thing that brought me both glory and ruin. It caused my suffering, yet I could not destroy it. So I buried it here."
Jasmine frowned.
"Thing? What thing?"
Yun Che shook his head.
"She can't hear you. Soul imprints are recordings, nothing more. But listen carefully—she said she built this place herself. The architecture… the symmetry… it's like something from my world."
"You're starting to make no sense again, Yun Che."
He didn't answer. His gaze stayed fixed on the projection as the Empress lifted her hand, and the air above the altar shimmered. Images bloomed to life—translucent scenes suspended in the air like memories carved in light.
"Three thousand years ago," the Empress said, her voice gentle but edged with sorrow, "I was a proud, reckless girl. I believed no one could match my talent. We were a simple people, far from the centers of power—living in peace while the rest of the world fought for strength and immortality."
The illusion widened into a panorama: a valley surrounded by snow-capped peaks, wooden homes nestled along a silver river, villagers laughing beneath a moonlit sky. It was idyllic, untouched.
Yun Che's brow furrowed. "Three thousand years ago… and yet she left this message waiting for us?" he muttered under his breath. "There's no way that's coincidence."
Jasmine turned toward him, eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean, us?"
He didn't answer immediately. The projection's light reflected off his golden eyes, and for a heartbeat they gleamed like twin mirrors of the altar's glow.
"I mean," he said quietly, "she knew someone like me would come. And that means whatever's buried here isn't just a relic of this world."
The air around them pulsed again, as if responding to his words, and the phantom of the Moon Empress continued her tale—her next sentence carrying a tone that made the ancient hall feel suddenly colder.
"The day the heavens tore open," she said, "was the day our peace ended…"
The Moon Empress's phantom lifted her gaze toward the vaulted ceiling of the hall. As she spoke, the air shimmered again, and the altar began projecting fragments of her past—living memories woven from soul energy.
The serene beauty from before now looked heartbreakingly human.
"However…" her voice trembled slightly, carrying centuries of bitterness, "all of that changed when a group of cultivators stumbled upon our village. They had been mauled by wild beasts in the forest and begged us for aid. We… we helped them."
Images swirled—humble wooden huts, villagers smiling as they tended to wounded strangers. The illusion darkened.
"We showed compassion," the Empress continued, "and in return… they showed us cruelty."
The projection shifted violently. Screams echoed faintly through the tomb as the cultivators' shadows fell over the village, their eyes cruel, their hands glowing with power.
"They enslaved us. They took what they wanted. We were mortals… powerless. I still remember—their strength was barely at the Elementary level, yet to us, they were celestials."
Jasmine's eyes narrowed, her arms folding. Even she, who had seen the depravity of divine realms, clenched her fists in distaste.
"They hunted for the young and the beautiful," the Moon Empress said, her voice tightening. "The girls were taken… used… and discarded. My parents… they hid me. Told me to run. So I ran. I ran until my legs broke and my heart bled. But I was weak. Pathetic. Naïve."
Her form flickered—once a young girl, now a silhouette fleeing through snow and ash.
"That night," she whispered, "I looked to the heavens and prayed—for deliverance, for justice, for anything. And then… I saw it."
The hall suddenly blazed to life again. Light flared around the altar as an illusion of the night sky appeared above them—stars glittering like scattered jewels.
"A single light fell from the heavens," she said, her tone filled with awe. "Golden and pure—like a divine arrow cutting through the void. It was beautiful. But the moment it touched the sky's edge… it split."
Yun Che's breath caught.
Nine trails of golden light streaked across the projected heavens, scattering in every direction like the shattered pieces of a god's crown.
"The nine heavenly lights," the Empress continued, "fell across the world. Too far, too fast to chase. Most who saw them thought they were but stars. But one of those lights… came for me."
A thunderous boom echoed through the illusion, shaking the tomb itself. The vision showed a crater blazing with molten light, trees aflame, ash raining like snow.
"It struck near where I stood. I should have died. But I didn't. Even as the world burned around me… I couldn't look away."
She stepped toward the vision of the crater, her translucent hand trembling.
"I thought I had prayed for salvation… but perhaps it was fate's curse."
Her words deepened, thick with emotion.
"I climbed into the crater, the heat searing my skin. The rock that had fallen was red-hot, impossible to touch. I prodded it with a stick, curious—perhaps foolishly curious. Then… it broke."
Yun Che's and Jasmine's eyes both widened as the illusion intensified. The smoldering meteor cracked apart, golden light flooding the air like dawn bursting from the earth.
"Inside," the Empress whispered, "was something I had never seen before. A golden orb… radiant, alive. It pulsed, as if it had a heartbeat."
And then—
Silence.
The projection froze mid-motion. The Empress's image wavered, her voice fading into static.
"The golden orb…" she mouthed. "It was the day… everything… changed—"
The illusion shattered. The aqua lights winked out one by one until darkness swallowed the hall again.
Only the echo of her last words lingered, faint as a dying flame.
Jasmine exhaled slowly, her voice breaking the silence.
"A mysterious golden orb? And nine heavenly lights? What was that supposed to mean?"
Her tone carried more confusion than curiosity. "I've never heard of anything like that. Even in the Realm of the Gods, nothing like it exists."
Yun Che, however, stood motionless. His hand was clenched tight around Yoru's hilt, knuckles pale beneath his gloves.
Outwardly, he looked calm as ever—cold, composed, unreadable.
But inside, his thoughts spiraled.
The architecture… the mechanisms… and now a golden orb that fell from the sky… No. No, it can't be.
The system's silent hum seemed to mock him as he swallowed hard.
"What in the actual fuck…" he muttered under his breath.
The words barely escaped his lips, but Jasmine heard—and for once, she didn't scold him.
Because even she could feel it.
Whatever the Moon Empress had found… wasn't meant to belong to this world.
=========================
On the other side of the tomb—perhaps its mirror reflection—Li Yue walked alone. The faint crackle of her torch was the only sound that dared to disturb the silence.
She had been wandering the endless corridor since the teleportation scattered them apart. The air was cold, heavy with dust and a strange metallic scent, but her thoughts were elsewhere—on a certain swordsman.
Dracule Mihawk.
The man who could have ignored her… who could have let her die. Instead, he warned her. He protected her. And now, against her own will, she was searching for him.
"Why am I relying on him?" she whispered to the flame, her voice small in the hollow dark. "I can handle myself. I'm strong enough to face the elders… then why do I keep looking for him?"
The question lingered, unanswered, as she moved through what looked like a perfect reflection of the path Yun Che and Jasmine had taken.
She passed an altar identical to the one in the other hall. Its surface was pristine—silent, unresponsive. She ran her hand over the stone, felt nothing stir beneath her touch. No lights, no runes, no voices.
"Empty," she murmured. "Someone must've taken whatever was here."
With that, she left it behind, unaware of the secret that slept upon its surface—the crescent mark that only eyes like Mihawk's could see.
The next doorway opened into a vast circular chamber. At its center stood an arena—raised stone ringed with four sets of stairs, each leading from one of four identical corridors.
Li Yue's torchlight trembled as she stepped inside. The instant her foot crossed the threshold, a pulse of blue light rippled through the darkness, climbing the towering walls until four crystalline spires at each corner blazed to life.
Her heart thudded once, sharply.
She was the first one here.
She ascended the nearest stairway, her eyes scanning the chamber's symmetry. Four doors. Four paths.
One arena.
And high above—half-shrouded in shadow—a fifth doorway hung in the air like a celestial gate, unreachable from below.
"An arena… and a single exit." She tightened her grip on her torch. "So that's how this works."
As if to answer her, invisible script shimmered into existence across the air before her eyes—letters of pale light forming words she instinctively understood:
'Four warriors shall enter, but the path will open only for one champion. May the odds be ever in your favor.'
Her stomach sank.
"So that's it…" she muttered. "Only one gets through."
She looked up again at the unreachable doorway. Her instincts told her the truth—she'd have to fight for it. Three others would stand in her way.
And in that quiet, the arena seemed to breathe—alive, waiting.
She tried to rise, to test her floating technique, but a sudden resistance seized her body. Her profound energy responded sluggishly, as if something unseen had wrapped around her like invisible chains.
"What in the world—?"
Before she could finish, a man's voice cut through the echoing silence—low, mocking, dripping with confidence.
"Well, well…"
Footsteps.
From one of the opposite corridors, a faint silhouette emerged—broad-shouldered, moving with the lazy arrogance of a predator who knew the kill was his.
"Isn't this a sight? The famous Fairy Li Yue herself, gracing us with her presence."
Another shape followed him, and another—their outlines flickering in the torchlight like shadows given form.
"We were waiting for you," the first man said, his smirk audible even through the darkness.
Li Yue exhaled slowly, lowering her torch. Her free hand drifted to her sword hilt as the air grew heavy—thick with killing intent, thick with certainty.
A faint hum spread through the arena.
She turned her head sharply—two of the four crystal spires at the corners of the chamber flared to life with cold, white light. Their glow cast long shadows over the stone floor. When she looked toward the stairways, two figures emerged from the opposite entrances, their armor gleaming faintly in the shifting luminescence.
She recognized them instantly.
Guo Qing. Shao Shun.
The same conniving elders who'd whispered of alliances, who'd goaded others to betray her and Mihawk alike.
Her hand tightened on her sword. The torchlight flickered across her half-masked face, painting her eyes in cold flame.
"So," she said, her voice steady, "you two made it here first."
Guo Qing gave a low chuckle, raising his curved sword until its tip pointed at her chest.
"It seems you've discovered what we already have, Fairy Li Yue. To pass this test, we must climb atop the corpses of others. You and that so-called swordsman are merely the first stones on the path to glory."
Shao Shun smirked, his tone almost mocking.
"We'll finish you first. Then, when your 'protector' arrives, we'll cut him down too."
Li Yue's eyes narrowed.
"You seem confident… perhaps slicing the heavens wasn't enough to frighten you."
Guo Qing's grin widened.
"Confidence? No, my dear fairy. Caution. We retreated to our corridors, dimmed the lights to fool you, and waited for our chance. Until the fourth challenger arrives, you'll serve as our entertainment."
Shao Shun laughed beside him, licking his lips like a starving wolf.
"And when the fourth joins us, he'll side with us, not you. Why waste time pretending otherwise?"
Li Yue's disgust was palpable. She could taste the venom in their words, the rot beneath their arrogance. Without a word, she unsheathed her sword in one smooth, graceful motion.
The air trembled.
Then her aura exploded outward.
The temperature plummeted instantly. Frost spread across the floor, crawling up the pillars, coating the arena in glistening ice. Her long black hair swayed as if caught in a silent wind, her eyes glowing faintly beneath her mask.
The men froze—not from the cold, but from shock.
"You—!" Guo Qing's voice cracked. "You're from the Frozen Cloud Asgard?!"
Shao Shun's expression twisted.
"Impossible… she's too strong. She must be an elder—half a step into the Throne realm!"
"If that's true," Guo Qing sneered, "then her death must stay our little secret. The Asgard won't even know she was here."
Their gazes darkened.
"They say Frozen Cloud disciples are beautiful beyond words," Shao Shun added, his eyes sliding over her form. "Let's find out if the rumors are true."
Guo Qing smirked.
"Indeed. It's been far too long since I've enjoyed the company of a woman."
That was the final spark.
The frost beneath Li Yue's feet cracked with a sound like shattering glass. Her killing intent erupted—a silent blizzard of rage so cold it stole the breath from their throats. The arena itself seemed to tremble.
"You'll regret ever speaking those words," she said, voice low, deadly calm.
But before she could strike—
Both men withdrew something from their robes: thin, yellow talismans etched with twisting symbols that glowed faintly in the light.
"Our apologies, Fairy Li Yue," Guo Qing said mockingly, slapping his talisman against the floor. "The Xiao Sect provided us with a little insurance."
The markings on the paper flared, and the entire arena responded. The air roared as glowing runes ignited beneath her feet, spreading outward in a spiraling pattern. The ice on the ground hissed and melted away.
Li Yue's eyes widened. "What—what is this!?"
Her profound energy surged instinctively—and faltered. Her aura flickered, then collapsed entirely. The strength that had always answered her will now slipped through her fingers like sand.
Shao Shun laughed, cruel and triumphant.
"This, my dear, is the Profound Suppressing Formation of the Xiao Sect. It seals the flow of profound energy for all within—except those bearing our charms."
He lifted the glowing talisman in his hand.
"It works on everyone else," Guo Qing said, stepping closer, blade gleaming. "But not on us."
Li Yue fell to one knee, gasping as the oppressive weight pressed against her body, crushing her strength. Her ice aura vanished completely, the air warming unnaturally fast.
The two men advanced slowly, savoring every step.
"Such a shame," Guo Qing whispered. "If you'd just stayed in your sect, you might've lived longer."
"Don't worry," Shao Shun added, his grin wicked. "We'll make your last moments… memorable."
Li Yue's grip tightened around her sword hilt, even as her limbs trembled. She could no longer summon her strength, her cold, her techniques—nothing. The frost that once answered her call had abandoned her.
"Is this…" she whispered, her voice cracking, "…how my path ends?"
The torchlight flickered. The runes beneath her glowed brighter.
Two predators closed in on their prey.
And yet—in the dark, a faint wind stirred.