A Song For The Ages

On the last evening before departure, Feiyin gathered the children beneath the flickering lantern light he installed in the quiet courtyard.

The mood was heavy. The laughter that once echoed through their little haven had dulled into silence. Even the younger ones sensed something was changing.

Feiyin knelt in front of them, setting down several tightly wrapped cloth bundles. "This is food. Enough to last you for some time if you're careful—buns, smoked meat, dried fruits, broth stones, and clean water tablets."

He turned to Jin and guided him aside, walking to the base of the cracked shrine wall.

"Here." He pulled aside a loose stone and showed him the hollow where placed the packed food. "It's warded with three talismans—scent-blocking, anti-pest, and one only you can activate since it's based on your print. Only open it when you need it."

Jin nodded, jaw tight, but his eyes shimmered. "You'll come back?"

Feiyin rested a hand on his head, then knelt to meet his gaze. "I don't know. I want to. But I'm far from home, and the road ahead is uncertain. That's why I need you to be strong—for them."

Luan clutched his sleeve, her voice barely audible. "Will it be dangerous?"

"Yes," he said, voice steady despite the heaviness in his chest. "But I've faced danger before. You have to promise me something—keep going. Breathe like I taught you. Practice the postures. You have to believe in yourselves, even when the world doesn't."

The children huddled closer, some crying openly now, their tiny hands gripping his arms, sleeves, belt. The twins hugged him tightly around the waist, trembling.

"Why do you have to go?" one of them whispered.

Feiyin closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "Because there are things I have to do—people I must face, to stop more pain from reaching others like you. That's what it means to grow strong."

He stood slowly, but not before placing a hand on each child's head, one by one. He looked at them all—tearful, silent, brave in their own ways.

"I may not be here to guide you much longer. But I believe in you. Don't forget what you've learned."

He turned and walked toward the courtyard gate. None of them tried to stop him, but he felt the weight of their eyes—of their hope—on his back.

They watched him go, not as a stranger, but as the only one who had ever seen them, stayed with them, and believed they could be more.

On the Next morning, by the time the city began to stir, Feiyin had already rejoined the Red Lotus group near the northern gate of Hu Zhao's capital. Baiyu had to be left behind inside his room in the skyship, though he did leave her a good month-worth of supplies of her favorite snacks. The expedition was assembled and waiting.

Two hundred strong.

Elite soldiers from Hu Zhao's army formed a good portion, all armored in dark reds and matte grays, while Ba Shanyue was at the head of the group of mercenaries. The Saint Blood disciples stood in silence behind Ruan Lianhua. Jue Qingling sat astride her crystal-antlered deer, eyes sharp and unreadable. Feng Liu stood in the back with several Joyful Union disciples, smiling with his usual lazy smugness.

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At the head of the group of soldiers stood Hu Zhao himself—massive, iron-clad, and fully armored in crimson lacquered scale, his ornate halberd slung across his back. His eyes burned with excitement.

"Let's go," he called out.

The two groups rode in silence through the hills, the morning air thick with mist. After two hours, the terrain grew more jagged. Rocks jutted like broken teeth from the earth, and the clouds above thinned, casting wan light over their path.

Then, they saw it.

Carved into the side of a massive cliff face behind the open mine, the entrance to the ruin loomed—a broken archway of green-black stone, partially collapsed, covered in lichen and twisted vines. Sigils, long faded but still faintly humming, spiraled along the outer walls.

Ancient. Dormant. Waiting.

Formation disciples stepped forward, testing the sigils and formations. One recoiled as a ripple of force shocked his hand.

"It's still active," he gasped. "But... not resisting us. It feels more like... scanning."

Ba Shanyue grunted. "Get it open."

The disciples worked swiftly, channeling essence qi into a spiraling array etched around the keystone. Sigils lit one by one, forming a ring that pulsed with deep blue light.

With a grinding rumble, the gate opened inward.

A slow exhale of cold, stale air gusted outward.

Feiyin's oscillation sense flared. The very space inside was different—bent, compressed, like something twisted the flow of essence and time.

"Remember," Hu Zhao said, turning to both groups. "Stick to your teams. Take nothing until we understand the structure. Keep watch for traps and trials."

They entered.

The first chamber was vast and circular, shaped more like a ceremonial hall than a tomb. Pillars rose like ancient guardians toward a ceiling hidden in shadow. Murals lined the walls, their paint faded but not forgotten. Warriors clad in heavenly armor battled creatures of myth. Sages held court beneath the full moon. At the center, above all, stood a crowned figure holding a radiant lotus.

Feiyin stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. The style... it wasn't just old, it radiated a sense of authority, almost imperial.

Whispers rose as others took in the scene. One of the formation masters accompanying Hu Zhao, an old man with a keen gaze, gasped.

"This emblem... I know it. That's the Crest of the Celestial Jade Dynasty."

Murmurs rippled through the group.

"The dynasty that ruled the world thousands of years ago?"

"No wonder this place has such a heavy sense of history."

Excitement stirred among the expedition. The Celestial Jade Dynasty was still known today due to quite a few of their ruins being uncovered, leading some lucky few to become powerhouses and establishing their own dominions. A few disciples wandered to the sides of the hall, their fingers tracing the faded carvings and sigils. Others examined the towering murals more closely. Some formation experts began checking the corners of the chamber where ancient doors, bound with sigil seals, lay dormant.

"Each of these could lead to hidden chambers," someone said. "Imagine if they have ancient treasures, or even legacy trials!"

Hu Zhao stepped forward, his voice gruff yet excited. "Open them. Carefully."

As the first seal was broken and a stone door creaked open, Feiyin's oscillation sense flared sharply.

The shift was subtle at first. The murals on the walls seemed to pulse. The air thickened. A low hum vibrated through the floor—not from the door, but from the room itself. Like an ancient mechanism had finally awoken.

He glanced around sharply. A subtle vibration thrummed underfoot, and the sigils across the walls began to hum in unison. A mechanism? No... a distortion.

He took a quiet step closer to Feng Liu. Better to be near the one he had reason to eliminate when chaos struck.

Then it happened. The murals pulsed. The air thickened. A ripple like heat distortion swept through the chamber. And without warning, space shattered.

Feiyin felt the pull before it happened—his instincts screamed. There was no time to shout, only act. He grabbed Feng Liu's arm.

A brilliant flash engulfed the room. In an instant, they were gone.

All around the hall, groups vanished. Some vanished alone, others in pairs, flung randomly across the ancient stronghold.

The trials had officially begun.