The sea wind howled like a mourning spirit as the monastery came into view—perched precariously atop jagged cliffs that plunged into the frothing ocean below. Crimson-leafed trees blanketed the landscape, their colors unnaturally vivid against the pale sky, as though each leaf had been dipped in blood and left to dry. The monastery itself was half-swallowed by time, its pagodas cracked, bells rusted, and ancient prayer flags fluttering in fragments like dying breaths of a forgotten age.
Jinhyuk pulled his cloak tighter as he stood at the edge of the forest, staring up at the ruins with narrowed eyes. Even from here, he could hear it—the bell.
It didn't chime like a normal bell. Its sound was slow, hollow, like the heartbeat of something long buried. It rang once every hour, but never from the same spot, echoing strangely through the trees and canyons. Sometimes it sounded close enough to touch; other times, like it came from beneath the earth.
"Creepy," Baek Soojin muttered, riding up beside him. "This place has been abandoned for decades. Why's the bell still ringing?"
"Residual spiritual force," Yeonhwa guessed, dismounting. "Or… something kept the mechanism going. Either way, it's no ordinary relic."
Jinhyuk's gaze was fixed on the largest pagoda—its roof caved in, walls stained with moss and blood-like streaks of mineral. "The fragment's here. I can feel it humming under my skin."
They made camp just outside the temple boundary, setting up a perimeter using talismans and beast repellent powder. The ground itself seemed to breathe, the trees rustling even when there was no wind. At times, they heard whispers in languages none of them understood—low, chanting syllables echoing off the cliffs like a chorus of the dead.
After a hasty meal, they ventured inside.
The entrance path was lined with statues—warrior monks, stone dragons, and celestial guardians. But each one had been defaced. Heads severed, arms torn off, some even inverted grotesquely. Baek drew her spear immediately.
"This wasn't erosion," she whispered. "This was desecration."
Yeonhwa knelt beside one of the shattered statues, her fingers brushing across an inscription nearly worn away by time.
"It's a prayer… or a warning." Her voice grew grim. "It says: 'Betrayal echoes louder than faith.'"
Jinhyuk felt a pulse in his chest—faint, but unmistakable. "Then betrayal must be the sealed emotion hidden here."
As they passed through the gate, they crossed into the monastery grounds. Fog settled quickly, curling around their ankles like serpents. The bell chimed again, slow and haunting, but this time… it came from the central pagoda.
Without a word, they headed in that direction, weapons ready and senses sharp.
Inside, the monastery was surprisingly intact. Dust clung to every surface, but the architecture remained preserved—almost too well preserved. Prayer scrolls still hung from the beams. Ritual tables were set with petrified offerings. A brazier flickered faintly with a blue flame, though no one had touched it in years.
Jinhyuk stopped before a mural painted across the far wall.
It depicted a man in flowing red robes, face hidden by shadow, standing atop a mountain of corpses. His hands were outstretched, as if beckoning the viewer to join him. Behind him, a shattered bell floated in the sky, dripping blood onto the battlefield below.
"I've seen this symbol before," he said, pointing at the red sigil carved into the mural's corner. "It was etched into the cave walls under Dragon Bone Valley."
Yeonhwa's eyes widened. "You think they're connected?"
"They're not just fragments of a soul," Jinhyuk murmured. "They're part of a map. Someone left these fragments behind like breadcrumbs… but for what?"
A sudden clang rang out—louder this time, sharp and jarring. The bell had rung again.
And then the ground shook.
A crack split through the floor beneath their feet, and ghostly laughter echoed through the chamber.
Baek was the first to move. "Something's coming up!"
A rotting hand burst through the tiles—followed by another, and another. Monks in crimson robes, their faces eroded into skeletal grins, dragged themselves from the earth. Some were missing limbs; others had burning scrolls sewn into their mouths. But all of them reeked of betrayal.
"Soulbound," Yeonhwa whispered, already drawing a talisman.
"They're trying to protect the fragment," Jinhyuk said, his eyes narrowing. "Or… keep it from falling into the wrong hands."
Baek raised her spear. "Too late for that. Let's cleanse them!"
The battle was chaos—Jinhyuk leapt into the fray with his twin blades, cutting through the phantoms like a whirlwind of silver and flame. Each time he slashed, a faint draconic echo rippled behind him, resonating with the valley's energy.
Yeonhwa's talismans flew like daggers, exploding with bursts of fire and chains of spirit-sealing runes. Baek fought like a berserker monk, her spear glowing with crescent arcs of violet Qi as she tore through the horde.
But for every one they felled, another rose in its place.
Then the bell rang again.
This time, the sound was so powerful it drove them all to their knees.
Jinhyuk gritted his teeth as the sound pierced his very soul. A vision flooded his mind—a blood-soaked bell tower, a monk crying out in betrayal, and a red-robed figure offering salvation in exchange for faith.
When he opened his eyes, the ghosts had vanished.
And standing at the far end of the chamber was a monk in pristine crimson robes—eyes glowing faintly gold, face obscured by an ornate bronze mask.
"You bear the mark of the dragon," the figure said, voice low and ancient. "And yet… you walk the path of mortals."
Jinhyuk rose, blades lowered slightly, eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
"I am the echo of betrayal," the monk replied. "And you, bearer of hope, must pass my judgment if you wish to claim the fragment."
The bell tolled one final time—and the doors behind them slammed shut.
The monk's bronze mask gleamed under the pale light, expressionless and eerie. A gold-trimmed prayer sash fluttered across his shoulders, untouched by wind. His aura was calm, but beneath that stillness, Jinhyuk could sense it—rage sealed for centuries, festering betrayal wrapped in spiritual silence.
The temple floor began to shift, ancient runes igniting beneath their feet in lines of searing crimson light. Around the chamber, statues that had long stood dormant cracked open, revealing hidden eyes glowing with pale flames. Silent watchers of this trial.
The monk raised a hand, and the fragmented bell atop the pagoda shook violently, letting out a pulse that rattled the soul more than the bones.
"This is not a battle of strength," the monk intoned. "It is a reckoning."
Yeonhwa stepped forward, concern etched in her face. "He's invoking a Soul Trial. It's going to test your spirit—your deepest regrets, your truths. If you fail…"
"She knows," Jinhyuk said quietly. "That's why I'm the one being judged."
Baek reached out, worry flashing in her usually fierce eyes. "You don't have to do this alone."
"I do," Jinhyuk said, gently brushing past her hand. "The bell chose me."
The moment he stepped forward, the entire temple darkened. The glowing eyes of the watchers flared once—then Jinhyuk vanished.
He found himself not in the monastery but standing in the courtyard of the Azure Cloud Sect.
But it was ruined.
The once-proud towers were shattered. Fire consumed the surrounding halls. And the bodies—he recognized them. Every single one. His old sect brothers, the elders, his master. Fallen, lifeless.
"No," Jinhyuk whispered.
A boy stood at the center of the carnage. Barely older than thirteen. Wide eyes, trembling hands, drenched in blood.
Jinhyuk recognized him immediately. It was himself.
But this version of him wasn't forged by fire and rebirth. This was the scared, helpless child who had watched his world burn without lifting a finger.
The boy turned to him, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Why didn't you save them?"
Jinhyuk froze. "I couldn't… I didn't have the strength."
"You do now," the boy said, voice growing colder. "But even now, you hesitate. You claim to protect people, yet you let others fight your battles. You lead, but leave the pain behind."
The shadows around them deepened, forming silhouettes of every life Jinhyuk had touched. Some smiled—like Yeonhwa, Baek, old Master Yul from the tower. Others bled from invisible wounds, falling to their knees.
"You let them die," said the voice of Kyungho, the rebel hunter Jinhyuk had once defeated. "You let me suffer."
"You used me," whispered a shadow of Haeun, one of the first girls he'd saved in the Eastern Wastes. "For your quest. For your power."
Jinhyuk's head lowered, fists clenched. The weight of every decision, every sacrifice, came crashing down on him. The guilt he kept buried, the justification he'd repeated—'I had no choice'—sounded hollow in this realm of judgment.
Then the monk's voice echoed once more.
"Do you bear your burdens because you must… or because you care?"
Jinhyuk exhaled, slow and deep.
"Both," he answered.
Silence.
"I've done what I had to. People died. Some were beyond saving. Others… I could've done more. But I won't run from it anymore."
He looked at the younger version of himself, walked forward, and knelt.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You didn't deserve this pain. But I'll carry it. All of it. And I'll use it to protect those who are still alive."
The boy looked at him, tears still falling, but nodded.
Behind them, the fires vanished. The shadows receded.
And then, light.
A bell rang—not the chilling one from earlier, but a warm, clear chime like sunlight piercing cloud.
The illusion shattered.
Jinhyuk opened his eyes.
He stood once more in the monastery's heart. The monk in crimson robes lowered his head in acknowledgment. The other statues had returned to stone.
"You passed," the monk said. "You did not deflect. You accepted. You are worthy of the fragment."
A golden sphere, faintly glowing with swirling red mist, rose from the floor. It hovered toward Jinhyuk, and as it touched his chest, it dissolved—becoming one with his soul.
Another soul fragment reclaimed.
But this one felt… heavier. Like it held a memory that didn't belong to him.
Baek and Yeonhwa rushed over.
"You alright?" Baek asked, searching his face.
Jinhyuk nodded. "Yeah. I just remembered something I wanted to forget."
Yeonhwa placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You don't have to carry it alone."
He looked between them—his companions, his strength, his tether to this life.
"I know," he said softly.
As they left the chamber, the final toll of the crimson bell echoed behind them. A gentle sound this time. A release.
Outside, the fog had lifted. The wind no longer whispered curses. The monastery, for the first time in decades, was at peace.
But the road ahead would not be.
Jinhyuk stared east—toward the desert lands of the Scarlet Sky Dominion, where the next piece of his fragmented soul called to him.
The sun hung low on the horizon as Jinhyuk, Baek Sohyun, and Yeonhwa descended the winding mountain trail that led away from the Crimson Bell Monastery. Behind them, the once-haunted sanctuary was finally at rest—its fractured soul released from torment. And with it, a piece of Jinhyuk's own past, reclaimed.
Yet the monk's words echoed in Jinhyuk's ears.
"Do you bear your burdens because you must… or because you care?"
He didn't have an answer. Not one that would silence the guilt that still clung to him.
Baek walked beside him, silent but alert. Yeonhwa trailed just behind, scribbling in a small parchment-bound journal, her brow furrowed in thought. The Soul Trial had clearly affected her too.
At the base of the mountain, a trio of figures awaited them by a rickety wooden cart. Horses grazed nearby, and one of the figures—tall, lean, and wrapped in traveler's garb—raised a hand in greeting.
"You survived," the man said, his voice dry with amusement. "I was almost ready to start carving your epitaph."
"Kang Seoryun," Jinhyuk said with a tired smirk. "Still talking like a jaded poet?"
"I try," Seoryun replied, pushing his hood back to reveal sharp gray eyes and a braided ponytail. "Though in your case, it's less poetry, more obituary."
Yeonhwa narrowed her eyes. "You're late."
"I'm always late. But never useless," he replied, flipping her a scroll. "Maps of the southern desert, including the last known location of the Scarlet Dominion's lost temple."
Jinhyuk opened the scroll, eyes scanning the intricate markings. "This is good. We'll head through the Ravine of Echoes and cut across the Searing Flats."
Seoryun raised a brow. "You're that eager to die of heatstroke?"
"I just want to get there before anyone else does," Jinhyuk replied. "The Celestial Phoenix Fragment won't stay hidden forever."
At the mention of that name, Baek tensed.
"Did you say Phoenix?" she asked. "That's a soul fragment? That's the next one?"
Jinhyuk nodded. "The records describe it as volatile, dangerous. It's buried beneath what used to be the Scarlet Sky Temple before it sank into the desert during the Heaven's Calamity."
Yeonhwa closed her journal. "We're dealing with more than just sandstorms and heat, then."
Jinhyuk nodded again. "Yeah. There's something else buried there. Something... ancient."
Seoryun clicked his tongue. "I've heard the stories. Cursed priests. Sand wraiths. A cult that worshiped fire and blood. You sure this isn't over your head?"
"Probably," Jinhyuk said. "But we're going anyway."
Before they could mount the cart, a low growl erupted from the bushes nearby. Baek immediately drew her sword, and Yeonhwa took a defensive stance, her qi flickering like moonlight.
But what emerged wasn't a beast—it was a man.
Tall, shirtless, with bronze skin marred by burn scars. He was panting heavily, his lips cracked and bleeding.
His eyes locked onto Jinhyuk.
"You…" he rasped. "You have the bell's soul."
Jinhyuk stepped forward, wary. "Who are you?"
The man fell to his knees. "I was the monk's disciple. The only one left alive. I escaped… the corruption. The bell… it still calls to me."
Baek narrowed her eyes. "He looks like he's on the edge of death."
"No," Yeonhwa said quietly. "He's already dead."
Everyone turned to her.
"Look at his shadow."
There was none.
Jinhyuk's eyes narrowed. "A Wraithbound."
The man smiled, but it was broken, filled with pain. "I carried my master's regrets for too long. But you… you survived the Trial. Take this."
He reached inside his torn robes and pulled out a shard of bone wrapped in crimson silk.
"A bell striker," Yeonhwa whispered. "That's—"
"A key," the man said, his voice weakening. "To the vault beneath the Scarlet Dominion's tomb."
As Jinhyuk took it, the man collapsed, fading like mist under morning sun.
They stood in silence for a moment, then Seoryun let out a low whistle. "Well. That's not ominous at all."
Baek grunted. "Can't we go somewhere normal for once?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Jinhyuk replied with a grin.
As the cart rolled southward, the wind shifted, carrying with it whispers from the mountains they left behind—and warnings from the sands ahead.
The map lay open in Jinhyuk's lap, and the desert waited like an open maw.
The next volume of his journey was about to begin. One filled with fire, blood, and forgotten gods.