The Broken Moon Sect sat hidden beyond a crescent-shaped ravine, nestled between jagged peaks that seemed to claw at the sky. Few dared to approach this region. It was said that the very air whispered curses into the minds of the weak and that time moved strangely here. To most, the sect was a relic of a past era, forgotten and forsaken.
But Kael and Dalia stood at the entrance now, determined.
The sky was grey, with heavy clouds swirling unnaturally above the ravine. A thick mist clung to the ground, obscuring the path forward. Ancient stone lanterns lined the trail, each inscribed with forgotten runes that glowed faintly with spiritual energy.
"This place feels... wrong," Dalia murmured. Her hand rested on the hilt of her curved blade, her senses fully extended.
Kael didn't reply. He was focused.
His inner core trembled lightly, responding to the intense spiritual pressure that lingered here—denser than the deepest chambers of Emberforge. It was the kind of place where a cultivator's spirit could either ascend or shatter beyond repair.
"The legends say the Forbidden Zone was once a training ground for those seeking to reach the peak of the Spiritual General stage," he finally said, his voice low. "But they also say none who entered ever came back unchanged."
"Or came back at all," Dalia added grimly.
They walked forward in silence. Every step on the cracked stone path seemed to echo unnaturally in the stillness. Eventually, they reached the outer gates of the Broken Moon Sect's Forbidden Zone—two towering stone doors half-consumed by vines and moss. Etched across their surface were warnings in old Tongue:
> "Only those who burn with purpose may enter. All others shall be consumed."
Kael stepped forward and placed his palm on the stone.
Spiritual energy surged from his body, pushing against the dormant array. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then, the stone began to tremble.
A deep thrum sounded, and a column of pale light shot up from the seam between the doors, dispelling the mist. The stone slowly split apart, revealing a pitch-black hallway descending underground.
Kael turned to Dalia. "If I don't make it out—"
"I'll drag you out myself," she interrupted.
He gave her a nod. "Then let's go."
They entered together.
—
The descent was long.
The walls were covered in ancient carvings—depictions of great battles between cultivators and strange beasts with too many limbs, floating castles in the sky, and swirling vortexes in space. Some of the symbols pulsed with residual spiritual energy, glowing softly when they passed.
Finally, the tunnel opened into a vast cavern.
Here, the air was filled with crackling energy. Lightning arced across the stone ceiling. Pools of glowing liquid, like molten silver, shimmered in the crevices below. And at the center, a massive circular platform hovered above the ground, surrounded by floating stone steps.
Kael could feel it—this place was alive with spiritual pressure.
"This must be the Trial Platform," he said. "Where the old disciples were tested."
Dalia glanced around. "There's something else here. I can feel eyes… watching."
Kael nodded. "Then let's not wait."
They leapt toward the platform, landing with practiced grace.
The moment they did, the platform rumbled. Symbols on its surface lit up, forming a complex array beneath their feet. Then, a voice—deep, ancient, and emotionless—echoed in the cavern.
> "Trial of the Spirit Flame: Initiate."
The space above the platform shimmered, and from thin air, a creature emerged. It looked like a wolf, but twice the size of a horse, its body composed entirely of blue flames. Its eyes were hollow, its mouth filled with sharp, flickering fire-teeth.
"Spiritual Flame Beast," Dalia muttered. "At least level 37."
Kael drew his blade.
> "I'll take it head-on. Support me."
The beast lunged, fire trailing behind it like a comet.
Kael rushed forward to meet it.
> "Steel Rend!"
His blade shimmered with black energy as he slashed horizontally. The slash collided with the beast, sending a ripple through its body—but the creature reformed instantly, the flames reshaping in midair.
It spun, lashing out with a whip-like tail of fire.
Kael ducked, only for the beast to surge forward again.
Dalia moved, raising her hands.
> "Frost Net!"
A net of spiritual ice erupted from her palms, wrapping around the creature's torso. The flames hissed as they collided with the frost, but the beast faltered for a moment—long enough for Kael to strike again.
> "Shadow Fang!"
This time, his sword strike formed a crescent of dark energy that shot into the beast's core. The flame beast howled, its form destabilizing.
> "Now!" Kael shouted.
Dalia followed up with a spiraling spear of ice.
> "Piercing Gale!"
The spear flew true, crashing into the beast's head. It exploded in a burst of blue fire, vanishing without a trace.
The platform was silent once more.
Kael and Dalia stood back to back, breathing heavily.
> "Trial of the Spirit Flame: Passed," the voice intoned.
The array beneath them dimmed, and another one lit up on the far end of the platform.
Kael stepped forward, blood dripping from a cut on his arm. "Let's keep going."
—
They continued through the Forbidden Zone for hours, facing one trial after another—each more brutal than the last.
Stone constructs with impossible strength.
Illusions that played on their deepest fears.
Waves of beasts with no spiritual signature, immune to detection.
But each time, Kael and Dalia fought side by side, their techniques growing sharper, their synergy tighter. Slowly, they pushed beyond their limits.
By the time they reached the final chamber, both were bleeding, clothes torn, but their eyes shone with unwavering resolve.
The final chamber was empty—just a single pedestal in the center, atop which rested a glowing orb the size of a man's head.
Kael stepped forward.
> "This must be the Heart of Echoes," Dalia whispered. "The old texts said only those who passed all trials could touch it."
Kael extended his hand.
The moment his fingers touched the orb, a surge of energy rushed into his body. His core trembled violently. His mind filled with whispers—visions of ancient techniques, long-forgotten paths of cultivation, and battle arts unlike any he'd seen.
He fell to his knees, gritting his teeth as the power flooded him.
Dalia rushed to his side, placing a hand on his back to stabilize him with her own spiritual energy.
Minutes passed.
Then Kael stood, his eyes glowing faintly.
"I can see the next path clearly now," he said. "It's time we return. We have work to do."
Kael stood still for a long moment, his fingers still lightly resting on the Heart of Echoes. The orb had lost its glow, turning to dull crystal, now lifeless—its ancient knowledge transferred to the one who had passed its trials. A sharp wind moved through the chamber, as if the place itself sighed in acknowledgment.
Dalia looked at him, concern hidden behind her firm expression. "What did you see?"
Kael's voice was low, as if still echoing from another plane. "Techniques. Knowledge lost to time. The old founders of this sect… they weren't just warriors. They were scholars of war, architects of empires. I saw their visions—spiritual formations, cultivation insights, advanced body refining techniques… and most importantly, a blueprint for unifying fractured lands."
Dalia stepped closer, her hand gently brushing her sword's hilt. "Blueprint?"
Kael nodded. "They believed chaos would always return when the strong devour the weak. But if you want to build something lasting, you don't just conquer with force. You need structure. Loyalty. A system that outlives you."
He turned to face her fully, his eyes calmer now. "And I think we can do it. Starting with the Ironroot Wastes."
Dalia crossed her arms. "That land is cursed."
"Cursed because no one could cultivate it. But we have the map now. The old sect's array system—they could manipulate environmental energy to restore dead regions. With the Spatial Kingdom, I can do it on a larger scale."
She smiled faintly. "You're starting to sound like a Sovereign."
"I'm planning like one."
They left the chamber, the orb crumbling into fine dust behind them, its purpose fulfilled. The doorways closed on their own, ancient arrays sealing off the Forbidden Zone once more.
As they emerged into the dying light of evening, the mist around the sect parted, almost reverently, allowing them a clear path out.
The journey back to the Black Dagger Clan territory took two days.
On the second night, they made camp near the Singing Cliffs, a place where winds howled in strange harmonies through the hollow stone ridges.
Dalia sat by the fire, sharpening her blade. "When we return, what's the first move?"
Kael fed dried wood into the fire. "We begin recruitment. We form a unit loyal only to the idea, not the clans. I'll train them personally with what I've learned—build them from the foundation."
"What do we call them?"
Kael looked into the flames. "The Black Flame Legion."
A pause.
Dalia nodded. "Good name."
—
Back in the Black Dagger base, their arrival caused an immediate stir. News of their survival, let alone success, traveled faster than their footsteps.
Elder Vann met them at the entrance. The man was old, bald, with sharp grey eyes and a long scar down his jaw. He bowed slightly, out of respect, not subservience.
"You did the impossible, boy," Vann said, arms crossed. "The Forbidden Zone hasn't let anyone live in over a century. And now, you return... stronger."
Kael simply nodded. "We need to talk. Privately."
Minutes later, the three of them sat around a large table in the strategy chamber. Maps of the surrounding territories, cultivation zones, and enemy camps were scattered across the stone surface.
Kael placed a worn parchment atop the center of the table. It was the blueprint from the Heart of Echoes, showing the formation arrays capable of reviving spiritual land.
"I need your help activating this. It will revive the Ironroot Wastes and begin the next phase of expansion."
Vann's eyes scanned the page, his brows furrowed. "This… this formation requires four Spiritual Generals working in perfect harmony. And one must guide the core with Spiritual King control."
"I'll be the core," Kael said calmly. "We'll find the rest."
Dalia added, "We already know three peak-level Spiritual Generals who owe us favors. We call them."
"And then what?" Vann asked, lifting his gaze. "You make the Wastes bloom again. And then?"
Kael looked at them both.
"Then we give cultivators across this continent a reason to unite. We'll offer something the clans never did—hope. Protection. Progress."
Vann smirked, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. "You really are your father's son."
—
Weeks passed.
The Ironroot Wastes, long forgotten, became a land of buzzing energy. The old dry soil now shimmered with life as the massive formation—The Verdant Heart Array—was slowly activated. Workers and cultivators were stationed across the region, drawing lines in the soil, planting totems, and arranging elemental stones across exact locations.
Kael stood at the heart of it, floating above a massive circular emblem, the center of the formation. His robes fluttered from the spiritual winds, and his hair glowed faintly from the sheer amount of energy circulating through his core.
"Begin the resonance," he commanded.
Four cultivators positioned at the cardinal ends of the formation began channeling energy.
> "Elemental Seal: Earth Pulse!"
> "Elemental Seal: Wind Breath!"
> "Elemental Seal: Flame Root!"
> "Elemental Seal: Water Rise!"
The ground trembled. Energy lines lit up like veins of molten gold across the land.
Kael focused all his spiritual energy, pushing it through his core and into the heart of the array.
> "Verdant Core—Awaken!"
A shockwave burst from the center. The sky rippled. A column of light pierced the clouds, and from deep below the Wastes, spiritual energy surged upward like a geyser.
Dead trees began to grow leaves. Cracked earth softened into fertile soil. The spiritual density in the air increased tenfold.
Cheers broke out across the field.
Kael descended, panting, sweat dripping down his face.
"We did it," Dalia whispered beside him, wide-eyed.
Vann placed a firm hand on Kael's shoulder. "This is only the beginning."
—
By the end of the month, cultivators from all over began arriving at the Ironroot Wastes. Refugees from ruined sects, mercenaries looking for a cause, and rogue disciples searching for a purpose—all drawn by whispers of the land that had been reborn.
Kael's Black Flame Legion trained daily, their numbers swelling to a few hundred. Each soldier drilled in new formations, body enhancement techniques, and defensive array placements.
Spiritual blacksmiths worked day and night crafting custom weapons.
Array masters inscribed new formations around the Wastes to defend it.
The foundation of a rising empire was being laid.
—
But all progress draws enemies.
In the shadows, across the mountains of the east, Lord Valen of the Scorching Bone Sect received a report from one of his spies.
"The Black Dagger pup… he awakened the Ironroot Wastes."
Valen's skeletal mask did not move, but his voice sent a chill down the room.
"Then it's time we reminded the world why we were feared."
He raised a hand, crimson energy swirling in his palm.
> "Summon the Crimson Choir. We march at dawn."