The tunnels twisted like a serpent's gut, damp with ancient moisture, lit only by the faint flicker of Shen Liun's Ashen Core. He had walked for hours, his wounds slowly healing under the ember-warmth within his body. Every step deeper into the pit brought an eerie silence—until a faint, metallic clink echoed through the stone halls.
Liun stopped.
It wasn't a beast's growl or the shifting of rock. It was a chain.
He followed the sound, careful, ears tuned to every nuance in the darkness. The path opened into a wide chamber, filled with rusted cages and skeletal remains—some animal, many human. Rotting banners hung from the ceiling, their insignias long faded.
And then he saw her.
A girl, barely older than him, shackled to the far wall by black-iron chains glowing with faint runes. Her clothes were rags, her skin pale and bruised. Hair as dark as ink hung across her face, and her lips moved silently—whispers, prayers, or curses, he couldn't tell.
She looked up as he stepped forward.
Eyes like shattered glass.
"Don't come closer," she said hoarsely. "The seal will kill you."
Liun paused. Her voice carried strength even in weakness—pride buried under pain.
"What are you?" he asked. "A prisoner? Or bait?"
Her lips curled in a bitter smile. "Does it matter?"
He stepped closer. The chains flared with a low hum, and blood erupted from her chest as a symbol ignited across her skin.
She screamed.
Liun's eyes narrowed. "A slave seal. Advanced. Sect-forged."
> "Xiao Ning'er," Aoshen murmured in his mind. "She was once a Heaven's Chosen. Her soul burns even as she's bound. A rare ember."
"I can't leave you like this," Liun said, approaching the chains. "The seal—can it be devoured?"
> "Yes. But be warned. If your core fails to contain it, you die. And she burns with you."
The girl spat blood. "Don't be stupid. Run. These chains weren't made by mortals."
Liun met her gaze. "Neither was my flame."
Without another word, he knelt beside her and placed his palm over the glowing brand on her chest.
The mark hissed.
Ashen fire surged from his hand, latching onto the curse mark like a beast. It resisted, twisting, writhing, trying to slither into his veins and shatter his core from within.
But Liun grit his teeth and held on.
The pain was immense. The seal bled illusions into his mind—his parents burning again, Ye Ruoxi laughing as she cast him aside, a mirror image of himself hanging in chains like a dog.
"No," he whispered. "Not again."
He clenched harder. The Ashen Flame roared.
The seal screamed like a wounded animal—then snapped.
The chains shattered. The girl slumped forward into his arms, unconscious, the cursed brand now just a fading scar.
Liun gasped, chest heaving. His skin was pale, veins darkened from the backlash. But he was alive.
More than that—his core was stronger.
> "You've devoured a divine seal," Aoshen whispered. "You walk deeper into defiance."
He looked down at the girl.
"Ning'er…" he repeated. "You're free now."
But in the darkness beyond, unseen eyes watched.
The Abyssal Pit had noticed his flame.