Soon after Zhenwu and Maro vanished into the fissure, another group stumbled upon the same frozen trail — Lu Chenhao, Tianhun, and Lian Yue. They were battered, their robes half-burned and boots scorched black, but they were alive. The firestorm above still roared, though its fury seemed to have lessened; the phoenix circled high, watching its charred domain.
Lu Chenhao had followed out of necessity, not courage. The bird had cornered him, forcing him toward the only gap left — the path Zhenwu and Maro had taken. He hated it, hated being herded like an animal, but survival outweighed pride. Tianhun limped beside him, a deep gash running down his leg, the result of what he was "strategic sacrifice." The truth was uglier: when Fang Ru had stumbled upon a supposed escape route, Tianhun had seized him, thrown him into the open as bait, and sprinted past while the phoenix's flame took the man. He could still smell burning flesh when he looked at his hands.
Lian Yue followed in silence. She had seen Tianhun's betrayal and used it for herself — waited for the beast's focus to shift, then slipped after him like a ghost. Now the three of them moved through the snow-covered valley, saying nothing. The weight of what they had just escaped pressed down harder than the cold air.
None of them could understand how they were still breathing. An Awakened beast's wrath was something no Emberwake cultivator should endure, yet here they were, shaken but alive. The conclusion was obvious, and terrifying.
"It held back," Tianhun muttered finally, his breath forming clouds. "It looked like it was bound by something for it to not use it's actual power."
Lian Yue nodded slightly.
Lu Chenhao stayed quiet. His eyes followed the faint footprints in the snow — two sets, side by side, one heavier and deliberate, the other lighter and almost playful. Zhenwu and Maro. The thought made his jaw tighten. He knew exactly why those two might cooperate: greed. Both had seen the phoenix. Both now knew this was no mere ruin or tomb. It was an inheritance, an ancient trial ground, and somewhere inside it were treasures beyond any empire's vaults.
"Stay close," Tianhun said finally, glancing over his shoulder. "If they found a way forward, we'll take it. We can deal with them later."
They moved deeper into the mountain's shadow, frost thickening underfoot. The snow muted their steps, but the silence was broken when a low rumble came from ahead — not thunder, but breath.
And then they saw it.
The creature was enormous — a towering figure of white fur, standing upright on two legs like a man, easily twenty-five meters tall. Its arms hung long and heavy, each tipped with claws the size of swords. But it was the eyes that froze them: two radiant rubies burning in a sea of white.
The three cultivators stopped instantly, every instinct screaming at them to flee, yet their bodies refused to move. The air around the beast shimmered with quiet, crushing power.
It did not attack. Instead, its head tilted slightly, and in a voice that rumbled through the mountain itself, it spoke:
"Always a watcher… always will be."
The words rolled like ancient stone grinding against itself. Again, and again, it repeated the phrase — a chant, a lament, each repetition emptier than the last.
Lu Chenhao felt his spine crawl. "It can speak…" he whispered, barely able to breathe.
"That means it's Awakened," Lian Yue said quietly, eyes wide but analytical. "No beast below that realm can speak in the tongue of men."
The three of them stood there, half-hidden in the snowfall, too afraid to move, too entranced to look away. The creature's gaze swept over them once, slow and indifferent, as if they were nothing but leaves in the wind.
Then, with the same detached calm, it turned away — back to the stone it had been sitting on, back to its eternal vigil. The whisper of its voice carried once more, fading into the snowstorm:
"Always a watcher… always will be."
The words lingered in their bones long after the sound was gone.
And for the first time since entering the inheritance, Tianhun, Lu Chenhao, and Lian Yue all understood — this place was not a treasure ground. It was a graveyard of power, and the ones buried here were still watching.
The three of them stared at one another in the freezing air, the echo of that beast's words still crawling through their minds.
"Always a watcher… always will be…"
It didn't sound like a threat. It didn't sound like a declaration either. It sounded broken — the same way a soldier might mumble after years of war, after the world had stripped him of everything but the echoes of his past. That look in its ruby eyes — distant, haunted — made the three cultivators' skin crawl.
Lian Yue was the first to break the silence. "Let's move," she whispered. "If that thing changes its mind, we're finished."
Neither Tianhun nor Lu Chenhao argued. They turned away from the giant and descended the slope, moving quickly, refusing to look back. None of them wanted to see whether the creature still watched.
---
At the base of the mountain, far ahead of them, Zhenwu and Maro sprinted across the snow.
The cold wind sliced through their robes, but Zhenwu's focus was absolute — his Qi sense stretched outward, probing the mountain's base, searching for distortions in space. The way out, the link to the first trial grounds, had to be near.
They crossed frozen ravines, dodged through skeletal trees, until Zhenwu suddenly stopped.
He crouched low, brushing the ground — there, among the white, a perfect circle of bare earth, untouched by snow. His lips curved into a sharp smile.
"Found it."
He began drawing sigils into the ground, layering stones, dust, and shards in precise patterns. The air around them started to hum — faint ripples of spatial energy twisting into being.
But before he could finish, his senses flared. Multiple auras were racing toward them — powerful ones. He clenched his jaw.
"Maro!" he barked. "Stall them. I just need a few seconds."
Maro's grin returned — wide, feral, poisonous. He tossed Zhennan's limp body onto the snow and stepped forward, venom energy leaking from his hands. "You better make those seconds worth something, Zhenwu."
---
An arrow screamed through the air like thunder. Maro slid aside, the projectile blasting into the snow and leaving behind a crater wide enough to swallow a carriage.
Lu Chenhao emerged from the treeline, his bow glowing gold, eyes cold. Behind him, Lian Yue's fan gleamed with frostlight, while Tianhun descended from above, radiant and furious.
Maro exhaled, summoning black mist that curled around him like serpents. "Venom Spirals!"
He thrust his palms forward, releasing four swirling streams of toxic Qi that hissed through the air. The attacks split the ground, melting snow into bubbling acid — but Tianhun's light pierced through.
"EMBERWAKE PATH SOURCE TECHNIQUE — HAMMER OF JUSTICE!"
The sky tore open as a colossal golden hammer descended. The shockwave shattered the ice, flinging snow in every direction.
Zhenwu cursed under his breath as the mountain shook around him. He could feel the portal's formation stabilizing, but it wasn't ready yet. "Just a few more seconds!" he shouted.
Maro's teeth gritted. He pushed his spirals upward, forming a dome of venom that cracked and hissed under the golden weight. The snow melted beneath him; his boots sank into the sludge. "You better hurry!"
Tianhun's hammer pressed down harder, burying Maro into a deep crater. Steam hissed as his poison clashed with pure light.
Meanwhile, Lu Chenhao and Lian Yue charged toward Zhenwu. Arrows and frost-laced wind blades flew like rain. Zhenwu parried with blinding precision, his double-edged blade flashing lightning arcs as he deflected each strike.
And then — the ground trembled. The sigils beneath him flared, glowing red and silver. A vortex of light began spiraling open. The portal.
"Now!"
He seized the infant — Han Lei — holding him close as he leapt backward into the forming gate. Lian Yue's blade missed his throat by a breath.
Maro, half-buried, laughed through blood and venom. "Guess my part's done!" he spat. He kicked Zhennan's unconscious body into the light. Just as he was about to follow, Tianhun's glowing fist slammed into his abdomen, burning through flesh and bone — but Maro only grinned wider.
His stomach melted into black sludge, the wound reforming even as acid hissed against Tianhun's arm. "You shouldn't touch what you don't understand."
With a hoarse laugh, Maro threw himself into the portal after Zhenwu.
Tianhun ripped his arm back, cursing, the skin already burning. He turned to Lian Yue and Lu Chenhao — their faces grim, pale with exhaustion.
"Go!" he ordered. They didn't hesitate. All three dove into the spiraling rift.
---
Not far away, the white-furred colossus still sat upon his icy perch.
He had watched everything unfold — the fight, the portal, the blood.
The mountain wind howled through his fur as his head tilted slightly, his ruby eyes dull with weariness. He muttered to himself again and again, a voice like cracking ice:
"Always a watcher… always will be…"
It sounded less like a vow now, and more like a curse — one whispered by a soldier long dead, condemned to remember the war forever.
The storm swallowed his voice, and he closed his eyes once more.