The night air was heavy with smoke and the lingering aura of fallen cultivators. Crimson Pass, once a symbol of oppression and fear, now flew a new banner—black with a silver fang, the insignia of the Sovereign of the Vale. Bonfires crackled along the ridges, warming weary warriors and casting long shadows against the blood-stained cliffs.
Aeron stood atop the Crimson Gate, his cloak fluttering, Hollowfang sheathed at his back. The stars above shimmered dimly, obscured by drifting clouds of ash. Around him, the command unit was setting up camp within the sanctum's inner walls.
Dalia approached with a small scroll in hand, her face marked by fatigue but resolute.
"Inventory from the sanctum's vault," she said, handing the scroll over. "Three hundred spirit stones, two rare manuals, and a sealed bottle of refined beast essence. Looks like they were expecting reinforcements."
Aeron read it silently, nodding. "We got to them just in time."
Kael limped up beside them, a large bandage across his chest. "They were elite, no doubt about it. That Yurei woman fought like someone raised in a sect."
Aeron's gaze sharpened. "Because she was."
Kael's brow furrowed. "You sure?"
Aeron nodded. "Hollowfang absorbed her blood essence. I saw fragments—memories. She was a disciple of the Vermilion Shadow Sect."
Dalia stiffened. "That's an upper-tier sect from the Northern Divide."
Kael cursed. "What the hell is a sect like that doing in our territory?"
"They're not just 'in' our territory," Aeron said grimly. "They're entrenched."
---
Elsewhere — The Vermilion Shadow Sect
Far to the north, beyond snow-draped mountains and thunder-ravaged valleys, lay the sprawling domain of the Vermilion Shadow Sect.
Hidden within a chasm of blood-red stone, the sect's grand palace pulsed with dark energy. Its halls echoed with whispers, its courtyards bathed in perpetual twilight. The scent of incense and old blood filled the air.
In the inner sanctum, Elder Veylor stood before a round table carved from black obsidian. Six other figures, cloaked in spiritual mist, floated above their thrones.
A young cultivator knelt before them, head bowed, spirit lens in hand.
"The Crimson Pass has fallen," he said quietly. "Yurei, Velon, and Kairas… are dead. The one called Aeron leads them."
The chamber remained silent for a breath.
Then Elder Veylor's fingers tightened on the edge of the table.
"He carries Hollowfang," he muttered, voice low.
One of the floating elders leaned forward. "The Blood-Eating Blade? Impossible. That weapon was lost to the Sanguine Ruins a hundred years ago."
"It's been found. And it answers to him."
Another elder asked, "Is it confirmed that he's from the Sovereign's bloodline?"
"Unclear," Veylor replied. "But if he unites the Vale, he will become a threat we cannot ignore."
The eldest of them all finally spoke, his voice a rumble of ancient power.
"Then the blood must be spilled before the roots take hold. Send the Hounds."
---
Back in Crimson Pass – Council of the Vale
A large war tent was erected on the edge of the captured inner courtyard. Inside, flickering lanterns cast warm light over the table where Aeron stood surrounded by his generals and city lords who had pledged loyalty.
A large map of the region lay before them.
"We've secured the central ridge," said Lord Fenric, a stocky man with a scar over one eye. "Crimson Pass links three provinces. We now control the main artery of trade and troop movement between the east and the capital."
Kael nodded. "The problem is holding it."
Dalia added, "And what comes next. The sect will not ignore this. They will come, and they won't just send puppets next time."
Aeron looked over the map. "We need to prepare the Blackmist Fortress. Move the wounded there. Fortify it. I want spirit cannons placed along the southern cliffs and a new defensive array carved into the valley walls."
"What about the civilians?" Fenric asked. "Refugees from the east have started pouring in."
"Let them come," Aeron said. "We'll protect them. But they'll have to work—food, cultivation, and shelter aren't free. We'll train every able-bodied one."
Kael chuckled. "Making soldiers already?"
"We'll need them," Aeron said quietly. "And fast."
---
Late That Night – Aeron's Meditation
Inside his private tent, Aeron sat cross-legged before a formation disk. The ring on his finger pulsed softly, and with a thought, he entered the Spatial Kingdom.
He reappeared within a massive, glowing valley. Trees of jade leaves swayed in an artificial breeze. Floating islands hung above crystal-clear rivers. Beasts roamed peacefully in the distance.
But the real treasure lay deeper within—at the heart of this pocket dimension stood a black stone temple. Inside it, rows of cultivation techniques, medicinal plants, beast eggs, forging stones, and spiritual treasures lined the walls.
This was his inheritance—Henricus Longus' last gift.
And it was time to unlock the next part.
He walked into the temple's inner chamber, where a red formation glowed atop a circular platform. A crystal rested at its centre, flickering with ancient energy.
A voice echoed in his mind—the same voice he had heard when he was nine, the voice of the one who gave him the Spatial Kingdom.
> "You have reached the first threshold. The Path of the Sovereign begins now. To unlock the second layer of your bloodline, you must awaken your Spiritual Profession."
The air changed.
Aeron's heart pounded.
The formation flared—and a flood of information surged into his mind.
> "Spiritual Professions: Alchemist. Blacksmith. Array Master. Beast Tamer. Healer. Seer."
Each path came with power. Each came with cost.
But only one aligned with his soul.
> "Array Master…"
A symbol of glowing runes burned into his chest.
Aeron cried out as his spirit core expanded, adapting, evolving.
He passed out.
---
Outside the Tent – Dalia Watches the Moon
Not far from the tent, Dalia stood alone, watching the moon rise over the jagged peaks of the pass. Her eyes were calm, but her heart churned.
The stars above whispered of fate. Of empires rising and crumbling. Of betrayals hidden in the mists.
She had seen the darkness in the Sect's eyes.
And she feared it would soon stare back.
The next morning, the entire camp stirred with an unspoken tension. The banners of the Sovereign's Vale fluttered proudly across Crimson Pass, but the warriors moving through the winding corridors of the stone citadel knew something was changing. They could feel it in the ground beneath their boots, in the pressure of the air, in the way spirit beasts far in the distance howled through the valleys.
Inside his tent, Aeron slowly opened his eyes.
A light red rune glowed across his chest before fading into his skin. The air was warm and thrumming with residual energy. His clothes were soaked with sweat, and his breathing was ragged.
He had awakened his Spiritual Profession.
Array Master.
Memories not his own filtered through his mind—layers upon layers of ancient runes, techniques, and the language of formations. Not just simple protective circles or alarm wards. These were Grand Arrays, ancient spell-constructs capable of levelling cities, warping time, and sealing worlds.
Aeron stood slowly and summoned the first rune he had learned. It hovered in the air like a golden line of fire, shimmering with potential.
He smiled faintly.
With this, he could reshape battlefields.
But he didn't have time to celebrate. As soon as he stepped out of the tent, Kael rushed toward him.
"Trouble at the eastern ridge," Kael said. "A scout team sent last night hasn't returned. And we just found one of them—what's left of him."
Aeron's eyes narrowed. "How many went?"
"Five. All at Transition Stage, two with beast contracts."
"Let's go."
---
Eastern Ridge – A New Threat
The eastern ridge of Crimson Pass dropped into a rocky slope filled with jagged spires and deep ravines. The wind howled constantly here, and the scent of burnt stone lingered unnaturally in the air.
Aeron, Kael, and Dalia arrived with twenty elite cultivators.
They found the body of the scout pinned to a tree with a black spike driven through his chest. His eyes had been burned away, and dark energy still sizzled around the wound.
Dalia frowned. "This was done with a Spirit Corrosion Technique. Forbidden class."
Kael knelt beside the corpse. "This wasn't a beast. This was a cultivator."
Aeron turned slowly, gazing into the narrow gorge ahead. "Set up a perimeter. Defensive array, now."
Within moments, the team activated spirit stones and placed engraved metal plates into the dirt, forming a simple Detection Formation.
The array flared.
A cold gust swept through the canyon. The shadows twisted unnaturally.
Then the screaming began.
Dark shapes surged from the rocks. They moved unnaturally—humanoid in shape, but with limbs too long, skin like obsidian, and eyes that glowed red.
Dalia shouted, "Wraithborn! Pull back into the array!"
The defenders tightened ranks as more of the shadow creatures emerged. They were fast, silent, and attacked with razor-sharp claws charged with corrosive energy.
Kael was the first to meet them. With a roar, he raised both fists, and flames burst from his arms. "Blazing Tiger Art!"
He punched the first creature in the chest, igniting it from within, but three more leapt onto his back.
Aeron moved like a phantom. He drew Hollowfang in one fluid motion and slashed upward. A crimson arc of energy extended from his blade, bisecting two Wraithborn.
Blood hissed into smoke on the blade.
Dalia hovered above, drawing runes in the air with both hands. "Azure Spear Formation—Activate!"
Hundreds of tiny blue lances materialised in the sky and rained down like a storm, impaling the front wave of Wraithborn.
But they kept coming.
"Too many!" Kael shouted, shielding two younger soldiers. "We're going to be overrun!"
Aeron stabbed Hollowfang into the ground. "Cover me!"
He sat cross-legged in the centre of the formation. The red rune on his chest flared, and golden script burst forth, circling his body in spirals.
He began tracing a Grand Rune into the earth—lines of raw spiritual energy carved through rock and dust.
The Wraithborn surged forward.
Dalia leapt down and slammed her palm to the earth. "Barrier Seal!"
A dome of blue light encased Aeron just as a dozen Wraithborn slammed into it.
Kael roared again, fire coating his fists. "If you want him, you go through me!"
Time seemed to slow.
Aeron's eyes glowed white as the final stroke of the array seared into the ground.
> "Blood-Sealing Net!"
The ground shook.
Golden chains of spiritual light erupted from the formation, slashing through the Wraithborn like whips. Each one that was touched turned to ash, their corrupted essence purified by the cleansing force of the array.
In less than a minute, the entire canyon went silent.
The surviving soldiers panted, eyes wide.
Kael dropped to one knee, his body smoking. "You weren't kidding about being an Array Master..."
Aeron stood slowly, his voice calm. "Get the wounded back to camp. And double the watch on the ridges."
Dalia walked beside him. "What were those things?"
"Wraithborn," Aeron muttered. "Corrupted cultivators. Not just beasts. Someone's creating them..."
She froze. "The Sect?"
He nodded grimly. "They've started the war already."
---
Back at Crimson Pass – Hours Later
The wounded were treated. Funerals were prepared. Arrays were expanded.
Aeron stood before a large map again, his hand resting on the eastern edge where the attack had taken place.
"We need allies," he said at last. "Independent kingdoms, rogue sects, the border tribes. We can't fight this alone."
Kael folded his arms. "Then we send envoys?"
"No. I go myself," Aeron replied.
Dalia blinked. "To where?"
Aeron looked east, toward the ruins of a lost empire.
"To the Ashen Peaks. There's a warlord there who once challenged an entire sect alone. If he joins us, it will shake the continent."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "And if he doesn't?"
Aeron's grip tightened.
"Then I'll make him."