Far below the temple, deeper than stone, older than language, a heartbeat resumed.
Thump.
The broken shell beneath the altar split apart, revealing a buried chamber of bone and crimson crystal.
And in its center—
A figure.
Pale. Ageless. Bound by chains etched in celestial script. Red hair floated like fire in still water. His eyes opened—golden and bottomless. His mouth curled into a slow, horrible smile.
"So… the blood returns."
This was He Who Fell With the Moon—the Crimson Soul. A fragment of the first Sect Master, sealed not for evil—but for understanding a truth that broke the world.
As Shenhai completed the Trial of Blood, his bloodline resonance had unlocked the first seal.
The chamber trembled. Old spirits howled. Glyphs on the temple walls flickered.
In the sky above, clouds spiraled into a vortex over the Verdant Mist Range.
Villagers screamed. Birds scattered. The moon—still hidden—turned crimson behind the clouds.
And far away, in the forbidden libraries of seven rival sects, scrolls began to burn of their own accord.
The Crimson Moon was rising again.