The cold mist rolled across the moss-laden stone as Liang Ming stepped deeper into the ruins of Jiuhua Hollow. The temple grounds had long since surrendered to the wild, overtaken by vines and shadows that clung to every crack and crevice. Yet, within the decay, a strange stillness lingered—like breath held before a storm.
Each step he took echoed louder than the last, as though the ground beneath remembered what had once been here: sacred chants, temple bells, the scent of incense. Now, only silence remained.
In his hand, the spiral-marked dagger felt heavier, vibrating faintly, as if aware of something unseen. His pulse quickened. He had followed the signs—runes carved into tree bark, threads of silver light only visible at twilight. They all led here. But to what?
As he reached the central courtyard, he saw it.
A figure.
Tall. Cloaked in crimson robes, the edges embroidered with spirals too perfect, too alive. The figure stood with hands behind its back, gaze turned toward the cracked statue of an ancient Bodhisattva. The light caught a mask of polished obsidian hiding the face beneath.
Liang Ming tensed.
The figure spoke, voice smooth, cold.
"The Spiral has a will, and it remembers disobedience."
Ming's grip on his dagger tightened. "Who are you?"
The masked figure turned slowly, and the air shifted. Around him, the vines retreated. The grass wilted. Even the silence bent in deference.
"Names are for the living," the figure said. "But if you must call me something... I am Xu Shanjun, the Spiral's Witness."
A chill shot down Ming's spine. That name. It echoed from a whisper in the Book, from a dream he could barely remember. A shadow glimpsed in the city of threads.
"You've been watching," Ming said.
Xu Shanjun nodded. "Not just you. All of you. The ones who turned the page. But you... you are different. You should not have reached this far so soon."
A slow step forward. The air thickened. The dagger in Ming's hand pulsed once, as if warning him.
"This path," Xu said, gesturing to the ruins, "was once sacred. A place of truth. But the Spiral devours truth, digests it into something... else."
"What do you want?"
Xu chuckled, a sound like cracked glass. "To test you."
Before Ming could react, Xu raised a hand. The air twisted. Shadows detached from the walls and surged forward, forming a creature of smoke and steel—its body a blend of jagged blades and spiraled limbs.
Liang Ming darted backward, dodging the first strike as the creature lunged with unnatural speed. The courtyard erupted in chaos.
He rolled beneath the statue, came up with a slash that nicked the beast's flank—but the wound mended instantly, tendrils of shadow knitting it together.
Xu Shanjun watched silently, arms folded.
Ming gritted his teeth. He could feel the spiral's pressure pressing on his mind, its rhythm syncing with the monster's movements. It wasn't just an enemy—it was a fragment of the Spiral itself.
He closed his eyes for a breath. Remembered the visions. The city. The cracks in the sky. The figure at the center—himself.
"Power lies not in prophecy but in defiance. If fate is a cage, then let my will be the blade that cuts it."
Ming leapt forward.
The dagger, now alight with silver energy, struck true. He didn't aim for the body—he pierced the spiral sigil glowing at its core. The beast let out a distorted cry before collapsing into vapor.
Silence returned.
Xu Shanjun clapped slowly. "Impressive. You severed the echo. Few manage that."
Ming pointed the dagger at him. "Why test me? What do you want from all of us?"
"You misunderstand," Xu said. "I am not your enemy. Not yet. But the Spiral... it is no longer just watching. It is choosing. We are all players. And in time, we shall all meet again—on different sides of the same blade."
He stepped back into the shadows, which closed around him like a curtain. But his final words hung in the air:
"The Spiral remembers. And so must you."
When the mist finally cleared, Liang Ming stood alone. But he knew—he had crossed into a deeper layer. The Spiral's trials were no longer passive. It had sent its witness.
The game had changed.
And somewhere, others were awakening too.