The oppressive pressure hit Dunce like a physical blow as he approached the imposing gates of the Tiru Sanctuary. It felt like the very air was trying to crush him, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Around him, twenty stoic Tiru Sentinels, gripping massive battle-axes, seemed to shift almost imperceptibly.
*Is it the Hades Sword?* Panic flared. But then, the cold, pulsating energy sealed within the cursed blade strapped to his chest erupted. A wave of arctic darkness engulfed him, instantly nullifying the crushing weight. *Ping!* A sharp crack echoed from the gate's apex, accompanied by a wisp of acrid smoke. Dunce flinched, hand instinctively flying to his chest, convinced the Sanctuary's defenses had pinpointed the forbidden weapon. He felt an unnerving certainty – that devastating sword technique he'd only tentatively practiced once… he could unleash it. Now.
The Sentinels remained frozen. Dunce didn't hesitate. He pushed through the Sanctuary doors, the chill sweat plastering his tunic to his back. *Spirits, what was I thinking? Drawing the Hades Sword here? Its malevolence… it would have consumed those Sentinels like kindling.* He shuddered, attributing the dark impulse to the Sanctuary's unnatural pressure. Taking a shaky breath, he pressed deeper into the dimly lit corridor, chasing after Mystic Mystic Moon.
The corridor was long and narrow, punctuated by flickering torches every ten meters, casting unsettling, dancing shadows. An oppressive sense of being watched permeated the air, thick with latent, enigmatic energy.
Mystic Mystic Moon spun around as he caught up. "What took you?" she hissed, eyes wide in the gloom.
Dunce shook his head. "Nothing. Stay close. This place… it feels charged, doesn't it?"
Mystic Mystic Moon nodded, fingers instinctively touching the warm Pyre Bloodstone pendant nestled at her throat. "Massive energy. Old. Powerful."
A sharp glance from Girln Ju silenced them. Girln Ju and Girln Li led the group through serpentine passageways until they abruptly opened into a cavernous hall. Darkness reigned until *whoosh!* Dozens of giant torches flared to life simultaneously, revealing hundreds of Tiru Sentinels lining the walls, axes gleaming. Ahead, a raised dais held two figures: one was a powerfully built Puyan tribesman around sixty, clad in simple gray robes, intense brown eyes radiating an unnerving scrutiny. Beside him stood a figure shrouded in deep black robes, radiating an aura of unsettling mystery.
The robed elder gestured. Girln Ju and Girln Li bowed low and retreated. "Outsiders," the elder's deep voice resonated. "Welcome to the Tiru Sanctuary of the Puyan. I am Presidenttain Chieftain Rock. This is Cult Leader Pulin." Sorrow etched his face. "The tragedy that befell my son, Girln Shi… it weighs heavy. He remains catatonic. Girln Li's earlier… aggression… was unacceptable. On behalf of the Puyan, I apologize. Now. Tell us everything – omit nothing – of how you encountered Girln Shi."
Moon Scar stepped forward, relief softening his posture. "Honored Presidenttain Chieftain Rock. We are mercenaries, bound for a contract with the Tiananyuan clan when we crossed into your territory…" With practiced clarity, Moon Scar recounted the chilling scene: the deranged tribesman, the ruined village, the grievously injured warrior, the heartbreaking reunion with his slain wife Cloud, their journey here.
Silence stretched long after Moon Scar finished. Chieftain Rock turned to the robed figure. "Cult Leader Pulin… your insight?"
A low, aged voice, seemingly amplified by the hall, replied, "Presidenttain, my Sight grants glimpses, not absolute truths. I have visited Girln Shi and… Cloud. These outsiders bear no guilt for the murder. Observe their auras – the light of untouched youth. Recall my prophecy for Girln Shi, spoken in his infancy? His twenty-sixth year marked a great upheaval. A harrowing trial, yet ultimately non-fatal. Its moment is also his rebirth, where he encounters his *key* – the harbinger who walks within Sanctuary walls bearing hidden arms! This key ensures his deliverance. But… if Girln Shi's destroyer finds him before clarity returns… Girln Shi's soul will be forever lost to shadow."
Chieftain Rock stiffened. "Cult Leader, who *is* this key?"
Cult Leader Pulin pushed back his hood, revealing a shock of white hair and a face deeply carved by time. Yet his eyes… they held a lucidity that pierced the soul. Mystic Mystic Moon, even with her inherent arrogance, found herself unable to meet that gaze. Only Dunce stared back, unflinching, an inexplicable sense of connection washing over him.
Pulin's gaze swept the group. "The key stands among them. But Fate's design must unfurl in its own time. Treat these travelers with honor. Tomorrow, bring them to Girln Shi. Their presence alone will begin his healing. But Presidenttain – tonight, Girln Shi must be safeguarded."
A glimmer of hope surfaced in Chieftain Rock's eyes. "Girln Ju! Girln Li! Tonight, you command the Sentinels guarding Girln Shi. No lapse!"
Girln Li looked puzzled. "Revered Cult Leader, if Girln Shi's key is here, why not take them to him now? Wouldn't it speed his recovery?"
Pulin offered a patient smile. "Impetuous, Girln Li. Fate's weave is intricate. Trust the process. Follow your chieftain's command."
Girln Ju nudged Girln Li. "Your will, Presidenttain."
Chieftain Rock eyed Pulin thoughtfully before addressing the group. "Very well. Girln Li, escort our guests to the guest quarters. They rest tonight. Tomorrow, they meet Girln Shi."
As Girln Li gestured for them to follow, Pulin spoke again. "Wait."
They turned. The Cult Leader's ancient eyes focused. "The young man and the young woman. Remain."
Mystic Mystic Moon frowned. "What requires such privacy?"
Pulin's smile was gentle yet inscrutable. "Some words are solely for chosen ears. Do you begrudge an old man his moment?"
Moon Scar caught Dunce and Mystic Mystic Moon's eyes and nodded. "We'll await your return." The rest filed out with Girln Ju and Girln Li.
Chieftain Rock cleared his throat. "Cult Leader… duties call. I remember your counsel." He strode from the hall.
Only the silent Tiru Sentinels, Dunce, Mystic Mystic Moon, and the frail Cult Leader remained. Pulin descended the dais slowly, leaning heavily on his staff. Dunce moved instinctively to offer support. As his hands touched the Cult Leader's arm, a jolt like icy lightning shot through him. Pulin's eyes seemed to delve into his very core.
"Age... takes its toll," Pulin sighed. "Come, children. A deeper journey awaits." Facing the dais, he beckoned Mystic Mystic Moon close. Wariness warred with a strange compulsion within her – this ancient figure held unquestionable authority, yet she sensed no malice, only profound purpose. Trusting the instinct, she approached.
Pulin looked at them both. "You fear a trickster? This Sanctuary, our most sacred heart, allows no falsehood." His voice deepened, resonating with ancient power. "Children… I have awaited you… for thirty years!" His staff rose, and suddenly, a vortex of force pulled Dunce and Mystic Mystic Moon tight against him. Arcane words spilled from his lips.
Reality twisted. They were hurled through a kaleidoscope of impossible colors, weightless, voiceless, their bodies mere passengers in a cosmic tumble. Beside them, Pulin chanted ceaselessly. Darkness swallowed them, then dissolved, leaving them staggering in a dim corridor of crimson stone, standing atop a massive, glowing sigil etched with unfathomable symbols. The air shimmered with restrained power.
Mystic Mystic Moon gasped. *Impossible! No ambient magic…* "Dunce!" she commanded, channeling her light. Nothing. The magic fizzled instantly.
"Child, cease," Pulin murmured. "Here, magic answers only me. This… is my sanctum." His staff stirred the static air, conjuring a gentle zephyr that lifted all three, carrying them silently down the endless corridor, past periodic glowing red stones set deep in the walls. Mystic Mystic Moon's mind raced – *Teleportation sigils? Sustained elemental control in a null-field? This old man… his power is terrifying.* Dunce, though bewildered, felt only deep trust, anchoring his silence.
The flight ended before colossal stone doors, flanked by two Tiru Sentinels unlike any seen before. Towering giants encased in faintly luminous golden armor radiated palpable, soul-freezing pressure. Their axes snapped together, barring the path. The suffocating wave of power slammed into Dunce and Mystic Mystic Moon like a physical wall, pinning them, crushing breath and will. Defiance was unthinkable.
Pulin stood impassive. Dunce saw Mystic Mystic Moon's agony. A primal growl tore from his throat. Internal life-force *Aura* surged outwards – a shimmering white shield buckling under the immense pressure. He sank to one knee, veins popping on his forehead.
"*Dunce!*" Mystic Mystic Moon gasped. Fear morphed into fierce resolve. She snatched her Pyre Bloodstone. It flared with crimson light, melding with Dunce's buckling shield, granting fragile respite. The effort cost him; blood trickled from his lips.
The golden Sentinels adjusted their stance, axes raising. The threat screamed: annihilation.
Instinct took over. Mystic Mystic Moon's lips parted for the Bloodstone's ultimate invocation. Dunce's posture shifted, hand snapping to the Hades Sword's hilt at his chest. A wave of deep-shadow chill erupted, a tangible vortex of pure death-light swirling around him. The Phoenix's crimson light dimmed momentarily. White Aura, shadow-vortex, and Bloodstone glow formed a defiant, trembling barrier.
The golden axes reached their apex.
"Enough," Pulin stated, soft yet absolute. Twin shards of sapphire light lanced from his eyes, striking the Sentinels' brows. Instantly, axes lowered, pressure vanished. They became statues once more.
Dunce collapsed forward, coughing blood onto the ancient stone. Mystic Mystic Moon sagged, pallid, sweat-drenched, clutching her pendant, glaring at Pulin with betrayal.
Gentle white radiance bloomed from Pulin's hands, engulfing them both. Healing warmth flooded their bodies, mending exhaustion and injury. Rockforce returned.
"You…" Mystic Mystic Moon whispered, anger warring with shock.
Dunce pushed himself up, eyes wary. "Cult Leader… Why?"
Pulin's smile held centuries of sorrow and triumph. "Confirmed," he murmured. "The union of light and shadow. Virtue entwined with destruction. Guided by the Phoenix... Bound by bonds unlooked for... You have breached the veils. Thirty years… and at last, you stand before me." He turned to the monolithic doors. "Beyond this threshold lies the hidden annals of the Puyan – guarded for a thousand generations." He paused. "Your arrival was foretold by forces beyond mortal ken. Walk with me now… and learn the destiny etched into your souls long before your births." With a heavy sigh, he stepped into the waiting darkness beyond the silently opening doors.
Mystic Mystic Moon grabbed Dunce's hand, her voice uncharacteristically small. "Protect me, Dunce." In this arcane, suffocating heart of power, even her bravado faltered.
For the first time, Dunce felt her palpable vulnerability. He squeezed her hand firmly, white Aura pulsing around them like a protective halo. "Always." She leaned into his strength, finding an unexpected anchor.
*BOOM.* The doors slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing into infinite, silent blackness.
"By Will, Borrowed Essence, Reveal the Path!" Pulin's resonant chant cut the darkness. Soft, warm amber light blossomed from hundreds of crystals embedded in the walls and ceiling, illuminating a modest cavern. Its surfaces, floor to vaulted ceiling, were a tapestry of immense, breathtakingly vivid murals, depicting epochs frozen in luminous stone.
Pulin joined them at the center. "Behold," he breathed. "The millennial chronicle of the Puyan."
"What does your people's history," Mystic Mystic Moon pressed, recovering her edge, "have to do with us? Why bring *us* here?"
Pulin didn't answer directly. "Young one, how old do I appear?"
Mystic Mystic Moon blinked. "Ancient… ninety? Surely?"
A deep sadness filled the Cult Leader's eyes. "Presidenttain Chieftain Rock… we were playmates. He is sixty-two. I am a year younger."
Dunce stared. Mystic Mystic Moon inhaled sharply. "The Prophecy... it cost you?"
"Yes," Pulin acknowledged. "We are similar to your Sanctum's Dunceries, children of your 'Holy Church'. We serve divine forces. In pure power, I may pale beside your High Dunceries… but I possess a different gift." His gaze turned piercing. "*The Sight.* Among the Puyan, the Cult Leader's word is law, even unto the Presidenttain. I… was perhaps the most gifted in generations." He paused, his voice dropping. "The Blood Sun… Mystic Mystic Moon of the Church, you recall that harbinger?"
Mystic Mystic Moon went rigid. "The Millennial Shadow…? You know of it? How do you know my Order?"
Pulin's thin lips twitched. "Your aura betrays you. The depth of your sanctified resonance… the sacred artifact entrusted to you… You are descended from High Dunceries. Close kin to the Master of Sanctum, I suspect."
Stunned, Mystic Mystic Moon could only nod. "You brought us here… because of the Shadow?"
Dunce looked utterly lost. "Millennial Shadow? The Blood Rain...? What are you talking about?"
"It is written," Mystic Mystic Moon recited, her voice trembling despite herself. "*Blood Sun ascends, the Unbound stirs. Blood Rain falls, the Shadow walks. The Millennial Cataclysm descends upon the realms.* How do you not know this?"
Pulin sighed heavily. "If it did *not* concern you, child, you would not stand within our deepest heart. You were guided by forces beyond this sphere. The Harbingers foretold stand before me."
Before Dunce could process, Mystic Mystic Moon choked, her whole body shaking. "You mean… *we* are the ones destined to face the Millennial Shadow?" The weight of it – the impossible mandate whispered within Sanctum halls, the desperate five-year search fruitless, guided only by those cryptic words passed down from the Master himself… It crashed over her.
Pulin turned his back. "Your Master, though immensely potent, is bound by the rites of sanctification. *My* vision, thirty years ago, before the Blood Sun's curse stained the sky… glimpsed the Harbingers more clearly. I sacrificed *thirty years* of my life for that glimpse." His frail hand gestured at his aged form. "Thus, sixty-one years become ninety-one. The price paid." He faced them again, ancient eyes locking onto Mystic Mystic Moon. "Tell me the signs your Sanctum received."
Compelled by the sheer gravity and the Cult Leader's undeniable, pain-bought authority, Mystic Mystic Moon whispered the forbidden phrases: "The signs… whispered by the Master… 'Virtue. Ruination. Drake. Phoenix. Bond.'"
Pulin closed his eyes, nodding slowly. "As foreseen. Virtue and Ruination… bound as one. Guided by the Phoenix… witnessed by the Ancient Drake… anchored by the Bonds of Souls entwined. The cycle begins anew here, within these sacred stones. Your paths have irrevocably joined the Shadow's fate."