Chapter 6: Beneath the Trial Pagoda
Midnight.
The Linh Huyen Sect lay shrouded in silence, its stone halls and jade pavilions bathed in cold moonlight. Mist curled along the paths like the breath of ancient beasts, and the only sound was the wind rustling through distant bamboo groves.
Tham Duong stood before the Trial Pagoda, cloaked in a black robe. His spiritual presence was fully withdrawn—completely hidden.
He waited until the patrol disciples passed.
Then, he vanished into the shadows.
Using a narrow fissure behind the pagoda's foundation, he descended through crumbling stone tunnels that hadn't seen footsteps in decades.
The scroll's map was etched into his memory. Twenty-seven paces left. Four downward drops. One trap of soul-disorienting mist—he passed through it blindfolded.
At last, he reached a sealed chamber.
The air buzzed with spiritual resistance, as though the sect itself didn't want him here.
He placed his hand against the stone wall where the scroll had marked a sigil.
"Rising moon devours crimson lotus."
The words weren't in any known dialect of the sect.
But the wall pulsed—and dissolved into dust.
Inside lay a circular chamber of black jade. At its center hovered a stone pedestal holding a single object:
A blood-red crystal, shaped like a twisted root, pulsing faintly.
The Bloodroot Fragment.
He stepped forward—
And the temperature plummeted.
A voice echoed, not in sound, but within his mind.
"Who dares disturb the silence of the Crimson Vault?"
Duong froze.
From the crystal, a spiritual remnant rose: a translucent figure cloaked in tattered robes, its face hidden beneath a hood. Its presence sent waves of demonic Qi rippling outward.
A soul echo. A guardian left by the Bloodroot Sect.
Duong's hand closed on his sword.
"Tham Duong," he said calmly. "Disciple of Linh Huyen Sect. Heir of nothing. Seeker of everything."
The remnant pulsed. "A cultivator without fear… or respect."
It raised a finger.
"Then face the trial. Survive—inherit the root. Fail—be consumed."
The chamber twisted.
Suddenly, Duong stood in a void.
A battlefield.
Shadowy figures surged at him, each wielding different demonic techniques. Phantom enemies—but real enough to kill in spirit.
Duong didn't flinch.
He unleashed his Qi, the fifth vein blazing, drawing on the chaos he had forged within himself.
Serpent Fang Second Style – Thousand Reaches!
His blade split into mirrored shadows, striking at ten foes at once.
They fell.
More came.
Fire, ice, poison, darkness—wave after wave of death.
He fought for what felt like hours.
Until finally, the world cracked open like glass.
He was back in the chamber, kneeling.
Breathing heavily.
The remnant hovered silently.
Then it bowed.
"Worthy."
The bloodroot crystal floated toward him.
Duong extended his hand.
The moment it touched his skin—pain exploded through his meridians.
It felt like molten iron was being poured through his veins.
But he gritted his teeth.
His mind screamed. His soul resisted. But he held on.
Because he knew:
This was how the Bloodroot Sect created monsters. And I will take their power—and twist it to my own path.
After a full hour, the crystal dissolved into his palm.
A new symbol burned itself into his skin: a serpent coiled around a bleeding lotus.
The mark of dual inheritance—Void Serpent and Bloodroot.
Outside, dawn approached.
But Duong didn't return to his quarters.
Instead, he slipped into a small courtyard near the Pill Refining Hall.
There, an old man swept leaves, slow and methodical.
Elder Ngo Thanh, known as the "Sleeping Alchemist," a near-retired sect elder who pretended to be senile.
Duong knelt. "Senior. I need a soul-binding pill."
Ngo Thanh raised an eyebrow. "You ask for a pill worth ten years of favor with a single sentence?"
"I offer knowledge in exchange. A formula. One lost to time."
The elder laughed dryly. "You, a mere outer disciple, know something I do not?"
Duong reached into his robe and pulled out a sliver of jade.
It contained the Bone-Essence Reversal Pill—a formula he had refined in his previous life. One that could reverse Qi deviation and restore crippled cultivators.
Ngo Thanh's eyes widened.
He took the jade silently.
Then nodded. "Come back in two days. Your pill will be ready."
Duong bowed low and left.
Soon, I'll have what I need to bind my sword spirit. Then the true cultivation begins.
Back in the outer sect, things were changing.
Rumors of Tham Duong's rapid rise began to ripple outward.
Some disciples saw him as a hero.
Others… saw him as a threat.
In a moonlit chamber near the inner gates, Tuyet Thuong sat cross-legged, her fingers gently stroking a spirit crane perched beside her.
"I've felt it," she whispered. "His presence is not new. Not reborn. Returned."
Her eyes glittered.
"The heavens themselves want him dead. That's why I must let him live… long enough to uncover why."
She stood and walked into the night.