Two days had passed since Luo Yun returned the map and spirit stone to Old Wei.
The old man had said little afterward, but his expression had changed—no longer indifferent, but cautious, watchful, like a man who had just been handed a puzzle piece to a game long forgotten.
Luo Yun didn't ask questions.
He returned to his training, used the spirit stone to replenish his energy, and circulated the Ironblood Tempering Technique to its limit each night. His skin toughened. His strikes gained weight. His mind, though still haunted by visions of fire and pain, grew sharper.
But something had shifted.
The air around Black Rock Hill had changed.
Rogue cultivators whispered in corners. Traders packed up early. Some simply disappeared.
Rumors spread:
"A seal has broken."
"The Falling Star Cave is real."
"There's treasure inside—maybe even a legacy."
"Someone already has the map."
"No one knows who."
Luo Yun kept his head down.
But inside, he knew: it had begun.
On the third night, Old Wei sent for him.
They met on the outskirts of the hill, beneath a jagged rock shaped like a broken fang.
Wei looked tired, but focused.
"You've heard the rumors?" he asked.
Luo Yun nodded.
"Good. Then you know what's coming."
"What's inside the cave?"
Wei's eyes narrowed. "No one knows for sure. But I've spent thirty years tracking fragments of the old cultivator who left it behind. He wasn't just a rogue. He was a formation master… and possibly a Nascent Soul stage cultivator in hiding."
Luo Yun swallowed hard.
A Nascent Soul cultivator?
That was power on a scale he couldn't yet imagine.
Wei handed him something small and flat—a brass token, marked with strange runes and the image of a falling star.
"This will get you inside. You're not the only one going. But you'll be watched less closely than the stronger ones. That's your advantage."
"Why me?" Luo Yun asked quietly.
Wei smiled.
"Because you gave something back, when you could've taken everything."
The entrance to the Falling Star Cave appeared at dawn the next day.
A rumble shook the lower cliffs of Black Rock Hill, and a sharp crack split open a jagged stone wall. Dust poured out like smoke. The entrance was tall, narrow, and shimmered faintly with remnants of a faded formation barrier.
Within hours, dozens of rogue cultivators had gathered.
Some wore robes of minor sects, some were masked and silent. A few radiated frightening auras—peak Qi Condensation, and even one or two in Foundation Establishment.
Luo Yun stood near the back, unnoticed.
Until someone stepped beside him.
"You shouldn't be here, kid."
It was the woman from before—the one who had warned him about losing himself.
Her eyes were calm but firm. "The cave draws people with greed. It doesn't care who survives."
"I'm not here for treasure," Luo Yun replied. "I'm here to survive."
She gave him a long look.
Then handed him a small pouch. "Spirit ink. Used for marking safe paths inside formation ruins. You'll need it."
Before he could thank her, she vanished into the crowd.
When the sun reached its peak, the barrier cracked completely.
A low hum rang through the valley.
The first group of cultivators entered the cave.
Luo Yun followed, his token glowing faintly in his palm.
Inside, the cave was massive—far deeper and larger than any natural structure. The walls were etched with ancient runes, long faded, and glowing veins of spirit stone pulsed faintly through the rock.
It felt alive.
And it was cold.
Not the cold of air—but the cold of time, of old things that had slept too long.
Barely twenty steps in, a scream echoed through the tunnel ahead.
Someone had triggered a trap. A wall collapsed. A body fell, crushed.
No one stopped.
Luo Yun moved carefully, using the spirit ink to mark his path.
Old Wei had been right—the token allowed him to bypass certain formations, slipping through gaps others could not see. He passed two groups struggling with sealed doors, walked across a narrow beam above a pit of metal spikes, and ducked beneath a falling stone slab that missed him by inches.
But the deeper he went, the more his instincts screamed.
Something was wrong.
This cave wasn't just protecting treasure.
It was testing intruders.
At one chamber, he saw it clearly.
A group of five rogue cultivators stood frozen around a glowing pedestal. They had weapons drawn—but unmoving. Their eyes were wide, locked in fear. Their bodies… turned to stone.
He backed away slowly.
Did not breathe. Did not speak.
Three hours passed.
Luo Yun finally reached a circular chamber marked with the same symbol on his brass token.
It opened for him.
Inside was nothing but a raised stone platform, and on it—
A single scroll, floating in the air, glowing faintly.
He stepped forward, heart pounding.
As his fingers touched the scroll—
The chamber sealed shut.
A cold voice echoed around him.
"You seek strength?"
"Then prove your will."
"Endure the blade… or be cast out."
Suddenly, a spectral sword appeared above him—hovering in the air.
Luo Yun braced himself.
The blade dropped.
Pain.
Real, cutting, soul-deep pain tore through his shoulder. His body dropped to one knee. Blood splashed across the stone.
But he didn't fall.
He refused.
His training, his hunger, his fire—it all surged at once.
He roared.
And stood.
The blade shattered.
The voice returned, softer now.
"The first gate… is open."
The scroll floated into his hands.