The violet rift pulsed above Yunping, its jagged edges casting an eerie, otherworldly glow across the hamlet. Rong Shen emerged from its depths, his crimson cloak billowing like a tempest, flanked by two shadowy enforcers wreathed in dark mist. Lin Hao scrambled to his feet, the Lotus Soul Amulet flaring in his hand, its golden runes pulsing in sync with his racing heart.
Master Zhang Wei gripped his staff, its faint emerald glow a fragile shield against the encroaching threat. The air thickened with Rong Shen's oppressive aura, a pressure that bent the grass and silenced the crickets. "The amulet's power cannot hide," Rong Shen snarled, violet flames coiling around his hands like living serpents. "Surrender it, Hollow Hao, or this hamlet burns beneath the wrath of the Ethereal Gate."
Lin Hao's mind raced, his newly awakened spiritual vein a fragile thread straining under the amulet's demands. The duel with Jiao Mei had left him weary, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. "I won't give it up," he declared, stepping forward, his voice trembling but resolute as the amulet's warmth bolstered his spirit.
Zhang Wei raised his staff, a weak barrier of green light shimmering around them. "These are enforcers of the Ethereal Gate, bound by ancient oaths to reclaim sacred relics," he muttered, his breath labored. "We can't win this fight—not yet." His eyes locked with Lin Hao's, filled with urgency. "Run, boy! Flee to the Verdant Lotus Sect—I'll hold them as long as I can!"
The first enforcer lunged, its blade of dark mist slashing toward Lin Hao with lethal precision. He raised the amulet instinctively, a golden shield flaring to deflect the strike with a resounding clang. The impact jolted his arms, sending a sharp pain through his veins as the enforcer's shadowy form recoiled.
The second enforcer circled, its clawed hands materializing from the mist like jagged claws of night. It smashed through Zhang Wei's barrier with a single blow, the green light shattering like glass. The elder staggered, blood trickling from his lip, yet he planted his feet, staff raised in defiance.
"Take the amulet and go!" Zhang Wei shouted, thrusting his staff forward with a burst of green energy. The blast forced the enforcers back, their forms wavering in the mist, buying a precious moment. Lin Hao hesitated, his heart torn between the elder's sacrifice and his own survival.
The elder's glare cut through his doubt. "This is no time for pride—run now!" With a final surge of power, Zhang Wei summoned a wall of thick mist, its edges swirling with spiritual energy. Lin Hao turned, clutching the amulet tightly, and sprinted toward the shadowed slopes of the Lotus Vale.
The night air bit at his skin, cold and sharp as he stumbled through the undergrowth. The distant clashes of Zhang Wei's staff against the enforcers faded, replaced by his own ragged breaths. His legs burned with every step, but the amulet's warmth guided him, its pulse a steady rhythm in the darkness.
His spiritual vein thrummed weakly, a faint current he struggled to sustain amid his exhaustion. Visions of ethereal pagodas wreathed in mist and celestial skies ablaze with power flashed through his mind. He pressed onward, aiming for the Verdant Lotus Sect, a sanctuary rumored to lie beyond the northern pass in the 12th Cycle of the Lotus Era.
Dawn broke as he reached the base of the northern pass, the first rays of sunlight piercing the lingering mist. The trail ahead was a narrow ribbon of stone, flanked by sheer cliffs adorned with creeping vines. He paused, leaning against a boulder to catch his breath, the amulet's glow dimming as his energy waned.
A rustle in the dense foliage snapped him alert. He spun, hand gripping the amulet, ready to defend himself against another threat. A young man emerged, his muted green robes embroidered with crane motifs that shimmered faintly in the light.
His hair was tied in a high ponytail, a short sword hanging at his side with an air of readiness. His sharp, assessing eyes fixed on Lin Hao. "You're the amulet bearer," he said, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. "I am Wei Tao, scout of the Verdant Lotus Sect. We sensed the disturbance in Yunping—what brings you here?"
Lin Hao lowered his guard slightly, though his hold on the amulet remained firm. "I'm Lin Hao. Rong Shen attacked my hamlet for this." He raised the relic, its runes flaring briefly with golden light. "Master Zhang Wei fought to give me time—he told me to seek your sect."
Wei Tao's expression hardened, a shadow crossing his face. "Rong Shen's reach grows bold in the 12th Cycle. Come with me—the sect elders will decide your fate." He turned, motioning Lin Hao to follow up the pass. "But know this: the amulet marks you as a target, and not all within our walls will welcome an outsider."
The climb was grueling, the path winding through steep inclines slick with dew. Wei Tao moved with the grace of a seasoned cultivator, occasionally glancing back to ensure Lin Hao kept pace. The air grew thinner, infused with the scent of pine and the subtle hum of spiritual energy that marked the sect's domain.
The pass opened into a broad plateau, where stone pagodas rose against the rugged mountains. Their roofs were adorned with intricate lotus carvings, each structure imbued with a faint spiritual resonance. This was the Verdant Lotus Sect, a bastion of cultivation nestled in the vale's heart during the 12th Cycle.
Wei Tao led Lin Hao to a spacious courtyard where disciples trained under the morning light. An older woman stood watch, her emerald robes flowing like a gentle stream, her presence commanding silence. "Elder Qian Yu," Wei Tao said with a respectful bow. "This is Lin Hao, bearer of the Lotus Soul Amulet. He fled Yunping under Rong Shen's assault."
Qian Yu's gaze pierced Lin Hao, her eyes narrowing as they settled on the amulet's faint glow. "The Lotus Soul Amulet—a relic forged in the 3rd Ethereal Age," she murmured, her voice laced with awe and suspicion. Her fingers traced the air, as if sensing its ancient power. "How did a hollow without a vein claim such a treasure?"
Lin Hao straightened, meeting her intense scrutiny. "It awoke to me during Rong Shen's attack in the 12th Cycle. I felt its call, though I don't understand why." His voice softened, heavy with emotion. "Master Zhang Wei sacrificed himself to let me escape. I seek your guidance to cultivate its power and honor his sacrifice."
A murmur rippled through the gathered disciples, their expressions a mix of envy, skepticism, and intrigue. Qian Yu raised a hand, silencing the crowd with a single gesture. "The amulet's choice is a rarity, a phenomenon not seen since the 4th Celestial Reign."
She stepped closer, her voice firm with authority. "We must test your worthiness. Tomorrow, you'll face the Trial of the Whispering Crest, a ritual dating back to the 5th Cycle." Her eyes hardened, unyielding. "Survive, and we'll train you. Fail, and the amulet returns to the sect's sacred vault."
Lin Hao nodded, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. The trial loomed as a new crucible, the spiritual vein within him pulsing with a nascent strength. Wei Tao led him to a small chamber within a pagoda, where a simple mat and a clay bowl of water awaited.
"Rest now," Wei Tao advised, his tone gentle but firm. "The Trial of the Whispering Crest challenges even those with refined veins, a tradition honed over centuries." Lin Hao sank onto the mat, placing the amulet beside him, its warmth a faint comfort.
The spiritual vein thrummed stronger, a sign of his growing connection to the relic. He closed his eyes, letting the ethereal breeze guide his energy through meditative breaths. A sudden chill swept the chamber, raising goosebumps on his skin.
The amulet flared, casting a golden light across the walls. A shadow loomed in the corner, a violet-cloaked figure with eyes like burning coals. Its presence was silent, exuding menace as it hovered near the ceiling.
"The amulet will be mine before the next lunar eclipse of the 12th Cycle," it whispered, its voice a chilling rasp. Before Lin Hao could react or draw the amulet's power, the figure dissolved into the darkness. The chamber fell silent, leaving him with a racing pulse and an uncertain fate hanging in the balance.