The Hall of Ancestral Summons stayed quiet. The ancestor's voice had faded into the void, but its power still lingered — "If they come, they die." No one moved. Even the torches seemed to wait.
A partitioner stepped forward, holding a scroll marked with glowing runes. "The Naming Ceremony will be held in three days," he announced. "The child's name shall be proclaimed upon the sacred ancestral ground."
Patriarch Sheng Tianhai gave a slow nod. "Prepare the clan. If dark forces come, let them find no weakness."
The elders remained silent. All understood the risk — naming the child now was a sign to the world, a call the hidden enemies could not ignore.
Elder Sheng Ruozhen stepped ahead. "The mountain must be sealed. We must prepare layers of defense. Let no spirit, beast, or watcher break our gates."
Tianhai raised his hand. "Summon the Grand Formation Master."
A ripple shimmered through the air. Runes circled in gold and silver, forming a gate. From it stepped a tall man in flowing blue robes, laced with starlight threads. His eyes held calm, yet glowed faintly with power.
He bowed. "You called."
"Sheng Weizhen," said Tianhai, voice firm, "we entrust you with the clan's protection."
Weizhen raised his hand. Rings of light unfolded, filled with runes and maps of energy lines. "I will begin with the Heaven-Locked Net. No gaze shall pierce through — not even those of old gods or beasts."
An elder asked, "The Naming Chamber?"
"I'll place a Time-Seal there. Within that room, time will flow a hundred times slower. Even if someone finds us… they will be too late."
"And the outer grounds?"
"I'll position the Eight Guardian Seals in the east, west, north, and south. The Spirit-Fog Array will rise over the mountains. Any who enter will see only illusion."
Tianhai turned to Ruozhen. "Select the loyal ones. Let them man the seals. No hesitation."
"Yes, Patriarch," Ruozhen replied.
Outside the sacred hall, change had already begun. Old watchtowers lit with blue flames. Temple gates shimmered with fresh runes. Hornless dragons beneath the mountain lake shifted in their sleep. Disciples ran along hidden paths, carrying seal stones and formation scrolls.
The Sheng Clan — ancient, quiet, and proud — had begun to prepare like they hadn't since the Age of Collapse.
In a quiet chamber, Sheng Lianyu sat beside her child. She had barely moved in three days. The soft light from his skin reflected in her eyes.
Behind her, footsteps approached.
"Tianhai…" she whispered.
Her husband stood in the doorway, weary but composed. His gaze fell on the boy — our son — and softened.
Lianyu looked up at him. "Will it be enough?"
Sheng Tianhai stepped closer. "Sheng Weizhen has layered a hundred seals. Ruozhen has placed disciples at every node. If anything breaks through… we'll break them back."
"But…" Her voice trembled.
He knelt beside her and took her hand. "You're not alone in this. Neither is he."
She brushed the baby's cheek. "He's still so small. He doesn't even have a name… and already, the skies shift when he breathes."
Tianhai exhaled deeply, eyes lingering on the sleeping child. "He is not like others. You saw the signs. The heavens stirred. The ancestors spoke. He is… a storm the world will chase."
Lianyu's eyes shimmered, her lips parting as she murmured, "He hasn't even opened his eyes to this world, and already they whisper his doom. Why must people be so greedy? Why fear what has not yet bloomed?"
Tianhai's grip on her hand tightened slightly. "Because power, even unborn, threatens the balance they cling to. The world always fears what it cannot control."
She lowered her head, eyes wet but calm. "Then let him be hidden until he's ready."
Tianhai gave a slow nod. "After the Naming Ceremony, we'll send him away. Somewhere no one will think to look."
Lianyu looked down and smiled faintly. "You… are more than I can understand."
From the shadows, Sheng Tianhai placed a soft cloth over the child and said gently, "Sleep now, little one… for soon, your path will begin."
Third Day
The stars grew restless.
The final layers of formations had been carved into the peaks. The Guardian Beasts had awakened. Spiritual pulses echoed like distant drums beneath the earth.
Winds changed course. Snow on distant ridges stopped mid-fall. The sky above the Sheng Clan shimmered faintly, as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath. The mountains no longer slumbered — they watched.
A hum rose from the sacred grounds as seals awakened. The Eight Guardian Seals pulsed with steady light, weaving threads of defense into the very veins of the land. Fireflies of spirit energy danced between pine needles. Every symbol, every rune, every circle drawn in ancient ink now glowed with divine intent.
As the final threads were woven and the clan stood watchful, the heavens themselves seemed to pause — waiting for a name that could shake fate itself.
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