The Black Mountains rose like an eternal wall, jagged and dark as though carved by a god's sword. Shadows clung to their peaks, and in those shadows lay a silence so heavy it seemed to crush the air itself. At their heart was the labyrinth, sealed for centuries, a place that had devoured countless cultivators and birthed just as many legends. Camps spread across the slopes, a hundred banners fluttering in the mountain winds. Each banner carried the weight of a clan's pride, its disciples standing ready, some trembling with excitement, others whispering prayers under their breath.
The Black Dragon faction of the Golden Sparrow Thieves' Guild had pitched their camp along the lower ridge, not far from the central approach to the labyrinth. Their fire burned low, the three disciples gathered in its glow: Li Xian, Lu Mao, and Bao Fu.
Li Xian sat cross-legged, her qi flowing steadily, her figure bathed in crimson firelight. She was a new War Blood Realm cultivator, her aura sharp enough to draw wary glances from rivals passing by. At twenty-three she stood at the cusp of greatness, her beauty like moonlight—serene yet distant, her eyes carrying both the elegance of a senior and the pressure of someone who had crossed a threshold most only dreamed of.
Lu Mao sat nearby on a flat stone, silent as always, spinning his dagger between his fingers. At only eighteen, his cultivation was lower, yet the sharpness in his eyes unsettled those who tried to measure him. He moved like someone who had survived too much for his age. Li Xian glanced at him from time to time, her heart stirring in ways she refused to name.
Bao Fu, meanwhile, busied himself with tending the fire. He would not enter the labyrinth—rules were absolute. Only two disciples from each faction could step through the gates. His role was caretaker, preparing supplies, keeping their camp ready, and waiting for their return.
"When you two come back," Bao Fu said with a grin that barely hid his nervousness, "I expect treasures piled higher than this mountain. Otherwise, I'm demanding a refund."
Li Xian allowed the faintest smile. "Don't worry. When we return, you'll have more stories than you can carry."
Lu Mao finally sheathed his dagger, his phantom veil flickering faintly. "Keep the camp safe. Don't let anyone steal our tent."
Bao Fu barked a laugh, though his eyes glistened. "Just go. And don't you dare die on me."
It was that same night when two figures arrived at their fire. Bo Heng of Azure Sky Pavilion—tall, steady, and calm—introduced himself with courtesy, while his companion Lan Yue carried herself in violet robes, her beauty sharp as a blade. She smiled faintly at Lu Mao, her tone playful, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"So young," she said, her gaze lingering. "Yet those eyes are far too dangerous for eighteen. I like that."
Li Xian's jaw tightened, though she said nothing.
The following days stretched long and restless. Strange roars echoed in the mountains, lights flared across the night sky, and rumors spread that shadows moved on the ridges. The labyrinth was stirring, and everyone knew it.
And then, one morning, the waiting ended.
The mountains roared.
A deafening boom split the sky as qi surged upward in black and crimson torrents, scattering the clouds like frightened birds. The earth cracked, tremors running down the slopes, and the colossal sealed caverns groaned as though forced open by some unseen titan. The sound was unbearable, stone grinding against stone, until finally the gates yawned wide, revealing only a vast, suffocating darkness beyond. A heartbeat followed, low and thunderous, echoing from the depths as if the mountain itself had come alive.
Shouts rose across the camps. Factions scrambled, disciples clutching weapons as seniors barked orders. Rivalries flared in glares and muttered threats. This was the moment every clan had waited for, the test that would make heroes or corpses.
The Black Dragon faction gathered. Li Xian stood at the front, her aura blazing, her eyes hard as tempered steel. Lu Mao stood beside her, the phantom veil flickering faintly around him. Bao Fu clenched his fists, standing just behind them.
"Both of you—come back alive," he said, his voice unsteady though he forced a grin. "Even if you bring nothing else, bring yourselves. That will be enough."
Li Xian gave a rare, soft nod. "We will."
Lu Mao glanced back, a flicker of respect in his eyes. "Wait for us."
Bao Fu swallowed hard. "Always."
And then, the world erupted into chaos.
Thousands surged forward, a tide of disciples racing toward the labyrinth's gaping mouth. Qi flared in every color, blades clashed, shouts echoed. Some fought only to be first, others drew steel to settle grudges at the gates. Blood splashed across stone as bodies fell, trampled by the charging tide.
A Red Hawk disciple lunged at Lu Mao, his blade flashing. "Die here, Black Dragon scum!"
Li Xian's stride carried her in a blur, her palm striking the blade with a blast of golden light. Steel shattered, ribs cracked, and the man screamed as he flew back, broken.
Lu Mao slipped past the chaos like a shadow, enemies' strikes passing harmlessly through his phantom veil. His dagger gleamed, silent and swift, finding throats before the victims even realized he was there.
Lan Yue's whip cracked lightning arcs, carving a path through enemies with cruel grace. Bo Heng followed, his sword strokes precise, every swing fatal, his disciples shielding their juniors as they pressed forward.
Together, the flood poured into the colossal gates.
The instant Li Xian and Lu Mao crossed the threshold, the world shifted. The air grew heavier, darker, laced with an ancient qi that pressed against their lungs. The silence inside was suffocating, the darkness alive with whispers. The labyrinth was no ruin—it was a beast slumbering, breathing, waiting.
Then the earth trembled.
A roar split the cavern, deeper and older than any sound they had ever heard. It shook their bones, rattled their qi, and froze their blood. The walls themselves seemed to tremble.
Golden eyes snapped open in the darkness.
Something massive moved, its shape hidden but its presence undeniable. The pressure crashed down like a mountain, forcing weaker disciples to their knees. A claw scraped stone, sparks flaring in the gloom.
The guardian of the labyrinth had awakened.
And Li Xian, Lu Mao, and the thousands who rushed in with them were its first prey.