In the cold depths beneath the sect, chains clinked softly.
The Suppression Cavern had not been opened in decades. Yet tonight, its ancient locks groaned. A ripple of dark qi leaked out, and with it—laughter.
A figure sat cross-legged inside.
Four horns curled from his temples. His eyes burned crimson.
"Han Li... he's alive," the demon whispered. "The heavens mock me."
Suddenly—clang.
The cavern doors opened.
A faint breeze slipped inside. Nothing more.
The demon stood, teeth bared. "Who dares?"
A janitor walked in, broom over shoulder.
Han Li.
The demon's pupils shrank.
"Y-you! You sealed me yourself!"
Han Li sighed. "I asked for silence. You never listen."
With a flick, the broom struck the stone floor.
BOOM!
The cavern trembled. The demon dropped to his knees, forced down by an invisible pressure.
"Mercy, lord!" he screamed. "I thought you were dead!"
Han Li stared. "That's what I wanted them to think."
He stepped closer. "Now listen. Someone is stirring the shadows. I need names."
The demon whimpered. "There's talk… in the Abyss Market. A masked cultivator seeking relics tied to your fall."
Han Li frowned. "He'll find more than relics."
He raised his broom and drew a glowing rune mid-air.
It embedded into the cavern walls. The chains shimmered with fresh seals.
"Stay quiet," Han Li said. "Or I'll forget I spared you."
The demon nodded rapidly, pressing his head to the floor.
As Han Li exited, torchlight flickered. His shadow stretched unnaturally long behind him.
Outside, clouds thickened, and thunder growled.
Elder Mu watched from afar, hidden behind an illusion talisman.
"That wasn't cleaning," he whispered.
But Han Li had already vanished into the mist.