The Eastern Rift was not marked on any common map. It was a place whispered about in the oldest of sect scrolls, avoided by wanderers and feared by beasts. Where most lands held spiritual veins and earthly qi, the Eastern Rift devoured it—an ever-hungering chasm of broken heaven and shattered law.
Wang Lin, Lian Hua, and Jin Tao stood at the edge of the rift's border three days after fleeing the ruins.
Mist clung to jagged cliffs and floating boulders drifted lazily above an abyss that seemed to stretch forever downward. The sky here was warped—sunlight shimmered like water, bending unnaturally as if the heavens themselves avoided this scar on the world.
"This is it," Jin Tao said, his voice lower than usual. "The Sanctum of Ashes lies somewhere within. They say it was built before the Nine Heavens fractured… back when cultivators still challenged the stars."
Lian Hua steadied herself against her blade. "And why is it abandoned?"
"Because something inside it woke up," he replied, grinning grimly. "And everything else died."
Wang Lin didn't hesitate. "Then we go where death lives."
He stepped forward, the Abduction Path humming beneath his skin as the rift reacted to him. The air twisted, and for a moment, a faint path appeared across the floating stones—ancient steps forged of forgotten energy, visible only to him.
"The path… is calling me," Wang Lin whispered.
They advanced cautiously, stone by stone, deeper into the rift. Gravity bent sideways. Sounds echoed where no walls stood. Lian Hua placed a talisman on her chest every few steps to anchor her mind, while Jin Tao muttered constant riddles under his breath—an old trick to ward off insanity in spirit-warped domains.
Hours passed. Or maybe days.
Time didn't work here.
Finally, they reached the outer sanctum. Great obsidian gates stood cracked and ajar, chained with rusted spirit-forged links that pulsed like veins. Above them, an inscription:
> "Ashes remain where gods fall."
Wang Lin touched the chain—and his mind was flooded with visions.
A war in the skies. Celestial giants wielding sunfire and void spears. A lone figure, cloaked in ragged robes, stealing light from the stars… and then vanishing.
He pulled back, gasping.
"Did you see something?" Lian Hua asked, worried.
He nodded. "Someone with the Abduction Path was here before… a long time ago."
Jin Tao forced the gates open with a groan of metal and memory.
What lay beyond was no ruin—it was a tomb.
Thousands of weapons floated midair, all bloodless, suspended around a vast circular platform inscribed with interlocking sigils. At the center, a massive sarcophagus, sealed with thirteen golden nails. Around it, skeletal remains of ancient cultivators kneeled in eternal reverence.
One of the skulls turned slowly.
Not from wind.
But from recognition.
> "The thief… has returned…"
Wang Lin stepped forward.
And the entire sanctum awakened.