Deeper Into the Thorns
The deeper they ventured into the Blood Lotus Sect's inner sanctum, the more distorted reality became. The walls breathed. The stone bled. The air thickened with whispers—some in tongues no longer spoken.
"Don't touch the glyphs," Yao Lin warned as they crossed a corridor rimmed with blood-carved symbols. Her bond-mark shimmered uneasily across her exposed skin. "They're bound to memory echoes. You'll lose yourself."
Su Xue trailed behind, her frost aura flickering erratically. Her Core Formation cultivation still held, but her control frayed. Every hour, her time-seal weakened—its ancient chains unraveling faster than expected.
Lu Xuan walked ahead without a word. The light from his demon eye flickered, reflecting the twisted murals on the walls. They depicted scenes of sacrifice, demonic ascension, and most chilling—an empire burning beneath the feet of a crimson-eyed god.
Su Xue broke the silence. "You didn't even hesitate. You let the altar's energy in like it belonged to you."
Lu Xuan didn't stop. "Because it does."
She grabbed his arm. "And what happens when you can't tell what's you and what's it anymore?"
He looked down at her hand. "Let go."
Something in his voice—cold, distant—made her recoil.
"I was right to try to stop you then," she muttered. "You're becoming exactly what I came back to prevent."
He turned, slowly. "You think I asked for any of this? You think I enjoy the screams in my head every time I close my eyes?"
Yao Lin stepped between them. "Enough. You're wasting breath while the elders tighten their traps. We don't have time for your rivalry."
Su Xue looked away, biting back frost-laced words. Lu Xuan said nothing. But the divide between them widened.
### Inside the Core
The central citadel of the Blood Lotus Sect was not built—it had grown. Towering roots of black lotus vines pulsed along its base, coiling up through spires of bone-infused stone.
The Crimson Petal Court gathered in a suspended ritual chamber, seven elders seated in a lotus formation around the Crimson Heart Altar.
Elder Yanwu: Early-stage Nascent Soul; blood manipulation and flame-based dual arts.
Elder Mo Jie: Mid-stage Nascent Soul; illusion and soul-weaving techniques.
Elder Shui Feng: Peak Core Formation; known for corpse puppetry.
Elder Bai Xun: Late Core Formation; specialist in venom and curse arrays.
Crimson light burst from the ceiling, illuminating the sealed sarcophagus at the altar's center. The Crimson Demoness stirred—her soul beginning to coalesce into physical form.
"He is near," she whispered, voice slithering through stone. "And the girl—she burns with stolen time. Their convergence will either doom or awaken me."
Seeds of Conflict
Ming Zhao reported that the western path had collapsed. Mei, clinging close to Lu Xuan, grew silent as they moved deeper, her eyes clouding with fragmented visions.
"They used to be in love," she murmured.
"Who?" asked Ming.
"Big brother and sister Su Xue. A long time ago. Before everything."
Yao Lin's expression darkened. "Or maybe in a time that hasn't happened yet."
Lu Xuan stopped suddenly at the foot of a grand staircase. The mural beside it depicted a different battle—one where the demon god was betrayed by his frost-bound consort.
He stared at it.
"You knew, didn't you?"
Su Xue tensed. "I saw the future. I saw what you'd become."
"And you came back to change it," he said. "By killing me, if necessary."
Her silence was answer enough.
He climbed the steps alone.
### The Sword Without a Name
At the top stood a throne of withered lotuses—and embedded in its base, the sword.
The same sword he had unearthed in Chapter 22, during the battle beneath the old crimson sanctum. It had chosen him in silence, resonating with his blood.
Now, it pulsed at his touch.
Lu Xuan reached for it, and memories slammed into him:
A thousand lifetimes.
A world devoured.
A betrayal by the one he loved most.
He pulled the blade free. It didn't sing—it screamed. But he didn't falter.
"It never had a name," he whispered. "Because names fade. But this... this endures."
Behind him, Su Xue's knees buckled. The time-seal flared one final time before cracks spiderwebbed across her aura.
Her cultivation pulsed. Unstable.
Unleashing.
And in that moment, as his demon eye flared and her frost qi lashed the air, they stood on opposite sides of a storm centuries in the making.
Their hate was real.
But beneath it, the ache of recognition.
And that was more dangerous than anything else.
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**Next Chapter: The Crimson Altar**