The heavy stone door of the maintenance tunnel ground shut behind them with a final, dusty thud.
Absolute darkness swallowed them. The air here was stale, smelling of damp earth, ancient roots, and centuries of neglect. It was a suffocating silence, cut off from the world above.
Wang Jian didn't hesitate. He raised his right hand. A small, concentrated sphere of Stellar Qi ignited in his palm.
It cast a cold, silvery light, throwing long, dancing shadows against the wet, moss-slicked walls of the narrow passage.
The tunnel was tight. Ideally suited for maintenance workers of the past, not for two cultivators moving in stealth. It forced them into a single file.
"You know the way, Sect Mistress," Wang Jian said, his voice low, echoing slightly in the cramped space. "You lead."
