Qin Ting paused, his piercing stare fixed on the shadowed arches where their foes had vanished. The air around him was thick with dust, tinged with the sharp scent of blood.
His Death Guards moved with ruthless precision, their blades flashing as they dispatched the last of the low-level spirit beasts—snarling, frenzied creatures that had surged forth to block their path. Silence settled afterward, brittle and tense, broken only by the faint clatter of armor as his battalion adjusted their formation behind him.
He turned to his companions, a spark of resolve lighting his eyes. "Let's resume our hunt, gentlemen," he said, his voice low but edged with steel. Each word was deliberate, as though carved from the stone beneath their feet. "The Earth Emperor's Mysterious Flame won't wait forever."
Nie You gave a curt nod, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword, anticipation glinting in his eyes. Beside him, Elder Liu adjusted his weathered robes, the lines of his face tightening with a flicker of eagerness that belied his age.
The Death Guards fell into marching formation without a sound, their armored boots striking the cracked stone floor in a muted rhythm—a chorus of loyalty and menace trailing Qin Ting's wake.
The underground palace had become a crucible of chaos in recent days, its cavernous halls a hellscape of ambition and betrayal. Cultivators had clashed without restraint, their blades cutting through the air, their cries lost in the labyrinth's endless echoes.
Alliances, forged in haste, crumbled just as swiftly, torn apart by greed or the lure of a rival's treasure. The air grew heavy with the acrid stench of scorched flesh, a testament to the spells and strikes that had torn the place apart.
Qin Ting had observed it all, a silent witness amid the carnage, his heart unmoved by the display of human frailty. 'Let them tear each other apart,' he thought, the words coiling like serpents in his mind. 'The true prize is mine alone to claim.'
As they ventured deeper into the labyrinth, a strange sensation stirred within him—a primal tug, subtle yet insistent, pulsing in his chest like the first whisper of a storm. It felt as though an unseen thread, woven into the heavens, had latched onto his spirit, guiding him forward with quiet certainty.
A faint smile curved his lips, sharp and fleeting. 'This must be the guidance of the heavens,' he mused, his pulse quickening beneath his calm exterior. The blessing of his Fortune Points hummed through him, an intangible yet potent gift—a secret edge that set him apart from the rabble chasing lesser spoils.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Ye Qiu. The rival's name burned in his mind, conjuring the image of eighty shimmering Fortune Points—unclaimed riches just beyond his grasp.
'Soon,' he vowed, a flare of greed searing through him, hot and fierce. 'They'll be mine too.'
With Nie You and Elder Liu at his flanks and the Death Guards trailing like a silent tempest, Qin Ting veered toward a modest side hall. The chamber appeared unremarkable—its cracked walls bare, the air heavy with neglect.
Dust motes drifted in the thin shaft of light spilling from a high crevice, casting faint shadows across the stone. Nie You's brow furrowed as he scanned the emptiness, his fingers tightening briefly on his sword.
"Young Master," he began, his tone laced with skepticism, "this place seems thoroughly ransacked. Are you certain—"
"Silence," Qin Ting cut in, his voice a sharp blade, composed yet commanding. He raised a hand, his piercing gaze sweeping the room with predatory focus.
Beneath his skin, his instincts thrummed—a quiet, insistent pulse that drowned out Nie You's doubt. 'It's here,' he thought, his eyes locking onto the unassuming stretch of cold stone floor at the chamber's center.
The pulse of intuition struck like a drumbeat, resonating through his bones. Without hesitation, he thrust out his palm, his voice ringing with unshakable resolve. "Azure Wind Strike!" The command cracked through the stillness like thunder.
A torrent of pressurized air erupted from his hand, a roaring gale that tore through the room with ferocious intent. The stone floor shattered, shards exploding outward like brittle glass caught in a whirlwind.
Dust billowed in choking clouds as the ground gave way, revealing a shadowed chasm—a hidden tunnel, its depths stretching into an abyss of unknown promise.
Nie You and Elder Liu stood frozen, their breaths caught. "A secret passage?" Nie You muttered, stepping forward to peer into the darkness, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Elder Liu rubbed his chin, his wide eyes gleaming with wonder and unease. "This palace is a maze of deception," he said, his tone reverent yet cautious. "Even I wouldn't have suspected another layer beneath these halls."
The underground palace brimmed with rare treasures, its sprawling corridors rumored to hold relics of forgotten eras. The Ignis Petal Sacred Tree at the main chamber's heart had been deemed its crown jewel—a prize Qin Ting had seized from his rivals days earlier in a brutal display of power, leaving the chamber strewn with broken bodies and shattered pride.
In the aftermath, survivors had scattered to the side halls, scrambling for lesser spoils: elixirs to strengthen their meridians, scrolls etched with faded techniques, fragments of long-unraveled arrays. But none had glimpsed the truth Qin Ting now held—the sacred tree was a decoy, a dazzling lure to blind the unworthy to the palace's deeper secret.
A smirk tugged at his lips as he marveled at his fortune. 'Without my Fortune Points, I'd have walked past this entrance like the rest,' he thought, a thrill coursing through his veins like molten gold.
He turned to his companions, his voice ringing with quiet command. "Follow me." Without waiting, he stepped into the tunnel, his boots striking the uneven stone with measured confidence.
Nie You and Elder Liu hurried after him, their robes billowing as they descended into the dark. Nie You glanced back at the Death Guards lingering above. "Secure the hall," he ordered, his voice cutting through the dust. "Let no one pass. Seal the entrance behind us."
"Yes, Commander!" the captain replied, his voice a metallic echo through his helm's slits. The battalion sprang into motion, their hands weaving basic earth-based techniques. Stone slabs groaned as they were dragged back into place, sealing the fractured floor with a dull thud as Qin Ting and his companions vanished below.
The tunnel stretched on like the throat of an ancient beast, its walls lined with dim, flickering lights—spirit stones embedded in the rock, their glow faint but unyielding, as if fueled by their own will. The air grew colder with each step, a biting chill seeping through their robes and settling into their bones.
The silence was heavy, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the distant drip of water echoing from unseen depths. Nie You's hand stayed near his sword, his sharp eyes darting to every shadow, wary of an ambush.
"This place feels alive," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as if reluctant to disturb the stillness. "Like it's watching us."
"Keep your wits about you, Commander," Elder Liu replied, his tone steady but tinged with unease. "The deeper we go, the more I sense… something ancient. Something vast."
Qin Ting said nothing, his focus fixed ahead, but their words stirred a flicker of acknowledgment. 'They're not wrong,' he thought, his senses attuned to the subtle pulse thrumming through the stone—a faint, undeniable heartbeat buried in the earth.
At last, the tunnel opened into a secret inner sanctum, a chamber carved from the world's bones. The walls bore cryptic patterns—spiraling runes and jagged lines that seemed to shift when glimpsed indirectly, as if imbued with a restless spirit.
A faint hum pulsed through the air, raising the hairs on Qin Ting's neck. His gaze swept the room, drawn irresistibly to its heart. There, atop a jade platform etched with coiling dragons, danced a golden flame.
The Earth Emperor's Mysterious Flame was a vision of transcendent beauty—an ethereal glow like liquid sunlight, its radiance weaving a spell of awe and longing. Yet beneath its grace lurked a violent aura, raw and untamed, a promise of destruction that could unravel the heavens with a single flare.
The two forces melded in perfect harmony—elegance and fury entwined—stealing the breath from Qin Ting's lungs. His pupils contracted as realization crashed over him. 'This is it,' he thought, awe and hunger warring within him, his heart pounding against his ribs.
Nie You dropped to one knee, his head bowed in reverence. "Congratulations, Young Master, on discovering the Earth Emperor's Mysterious Flame!" he declared, his voice trembling with fervor. "Truly, the heavens favor you!"
Elder Liu's weathered face broke into a beaming smile, his earlier doubts swept away. "Nephew Qin, this is a feat beyond measure!" he exclaimed, his hands clasped before him.
Over the past month, he'd pieced together fragments of lore about the flame's identity, whispers from ancient texts and half-forgotten tales. Yet Qin Ting's relentless conquest of the main hall had left him little chance to prove his worth.
Now, as the young master stood poised to claim this Strange Flame, Elder Liu saw a path to redemption. 'Even if I claim no glory,' he resolved, 'my diligence will not go unnoticed. I'll guard this treasure with my life.'
Qin Ting inclined his head slightly, brushing his sleeves with a casual flourish that masked the storm of elation within. "Nie You, Elder Liu—stand guard," he commanded, his tone cool and unyielding. "Kill anyone who dares breach this chamber."
"Yes, Young Master!" Nie You replied, rising with a crisp salute, his sword hand steady.
"Yes, Nephew Qin!" Elder Liu echoed, bowing once more, his eyes alight with purpose.
Qin Ting approached the jade platform and settled into a cross-legged stance before the flame, his posture a study in disciplined grace. His purple aura surged forth, a vast, steady tide enveloping the golden fire, seeking to bend its wild essence to his will.
The Strange Flame flared in defiance, its fiery spirit thrashing as if alive, a beast resisting taming. Tendrils of heat lashed out, singeing the air with a hiss, but Qin Ting's expression remained serene, his focus a honed blade.
A tremor rippled through the underground palace, the stones quaking as if the earth recoiled from the struggle. Dust fell from the ceiling in a fine mist, and the cryptic runes on the walls pulsed faintly, their glow flickering like a stirred heartbeat.
Above, in the sprawling halls, other cultivators froze mid-step, their hands clutching scavenged treasures as the ground shuddered. "What's happening?" a rogue cultivator shouted, his voice cracking as he clutched a cracked jade tablet.
"Is the palace about to collapse?" a woman cried, her trembling fingers stuffing elixirs into a tattered pouch, her eyes darting to the shadowed ceiling.
A grizzled man with a scarred face spat on the ground, his hands tightening around a bundle of scrolls. "I've gathered plenty of elixirs and techniques these past few days," he growled. "Better to leave now than tempt fate."
"Let's go," a woman in tattered robes agreed, glancing nervously at the quaking walls. "There's nothing left worth risking here."
One by one, rogue cultivators and those from lesser sects trickled toward the misty exit, their silhouettes fading into the haze. After days of bloodshed and scavenging, they were content with their haul—pockets lined with pills, minds buzzing with stolen knowledge.
Disciples from the great holy lands lingered, their senses sharp as they scoured the corridors for the tremor's source. "This quake—it's no natural collapse," a young woman in Chaosheng Sect robes muttered, her brow furrowed as she traced a fractured wall.
Her companion, a broad-shouldered youth with a stern jaw, shook his head. "We've searched every hall," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "There's nothing left but echoes. Let's withdraw."
Though Qin Ting had claimed the sacred tree, their own gains—rare herbs, spirit weapons, and fragments of ancient arrays—were far from meager. Reluctantly, they too retreated, leaving the palace cloaked in an eerie, trembling silence.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Two days later, within the secret chamber, Qin Ting poured every ounce of his being into taming the Earth Emperor's Mysterious Flame. Sweat beaded on his brow, tracing rivulets down his temples as his purple aura flowed ceaselessly, deep and unyielding like an ocean claiming the shore.
The flame's once-fierce presence began to wane, its resistance faltering under his will. Golden tendrils curled inward, submitting inch by inch, their radiance dimming as they merged with his spirit.
Nie You and Elder Liu exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. "It's nearly done," Nie You whispered, his voice tight with excitement. "The Young Master's victory is at hand."
Elder Liu nodded, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze locked on Qin Ting's resolute figure. "The Earth Emperor's Mysterious Flame—ranked eleventh among the Strange Flames," he murmured, reverence lacing every word. "A celestial marvel, forged by the heavens themselves. Its value to his cultivation… immeasurable."
Qin Ting's chest swelled with triumph. 'This power,' he thought, the words blazing through his mind, 'it is mine.' The flame's essence seeped into his meridians, a searing heat coursing through him like molten gold, promising strength beyond imagining.
He could feel it—his cultivation teetering on the edge of a breakthrough, his destiny unfurling like a scroll illuminated by divine light. But in that moment of exultation, the air shattered with chaos.
A figure burst from the chamber's shadows, a blade gleaming in his hand as he lunged toward Qin Ting with lethal intent.
"Die, you bastard!" the voice roared, raw with hatred, reverberating off the stone like a war cry. It was Ye Qiu!
Nie You and Elder Liu jolted in shock, surging forward to intercept the assailant. "Protect the Young Master at all costs!" Nie You shouted, his sword flashing free of its sheath in a streak of silver.
Before they could close the distance, a man in white materialized between them, his presence calm yet suffocating, like a storm held in check. He raised a hand, an invisible wall of qi slamming into Nie You and Elder Liu, halting their advance mid-stride.
An easy smile played on his lips as he met their furious gazes, his voice smooth as silk yet laced with menace. "Not so fast…" It was Jiang Zhongbai—the eldest True Disciple of the Xuantian Sect!
Qin Ting's eyes snapped open, the flame's golden light reflecting in his pupils like twin suns.
'So, the rats finally show themselves,' he thought, his lips curling into a cold, predatory smile. The chamber quaked violently, the runes blazing with an ominous light as the struggle for the Earth Emperor's Mysterious Flame commenced.