The mountain was burning.
Not with fire — but with voices, footsteps, and blood.
When Luo Yun emerged from the cave, the entrance behind him had already collapsed. Thick smoke and dust still clung to his robes. His breath was heavy. The Falling Star Manual was bound tight across his chest, sealed by layers of cloth. The crystal shard pulsed faintly inside his satchel.
The woman — his only companion through the third gate — stepped beside him.
She didn't speak.
Neither did he.
Because before them, dozens of rogue cultivators stood waiting — all staring.
Some had blood on their blades. Others wore talismans half-burnt from battle.
But all of them… had lost.
Only Luo Yun and the woman had returned.
And everyone knew what that meant.
"He has it," someone whispered.
"The legacy."
"He reached the last chamber."
"It should've been ours!"
A cultivator in green robes stepped forward, his Qi flaring.
"Leave the scroll. Walk away with your life."
Luo Yun didn't answer.
He simply placed a foot back, hand dropping to the hilt of his knife.
The woman beside him whispered, "Don't fight here."
Too late.
Another cultivator lunged.
Luo Yun blurred — Moonshadow Step activated — appearing behind him in a single breath.
The man collapsed, throat bleeding.
Silence fell.
Then chaos erupted.
It was a blur of sound, light, and pain.
Flames danced across the stone.
Talisman spells exploded mid-air.
Luo Yun didn't try to win.
He moved — silent, fast, cutting only when necessary. The woman covered his flank, her blade flashing like silver wind.
One tried to grab the scroll.
He lost a hand.
Another used a formation scroll.
Luo Yun stepped into its blind spot and left the man unconscious.
By the time they reached the lower cliffs, half the group was down.
The rest chased — or hesitated.
Then came the scream.
"Foundation cultivator! He's coming!"
The air shifted.
A cold, crushing aura swept over the ridge like a wave.
Everyone stopped.
And from the shadows, a masked figure emerged.
The same one who had walked beside Old Wei.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
His mere presence turned seasoned rogue cultivators into stone.
He looked at Luo Yun.
At the scroll across his chest.
At the blood on his knife.
Then, softly—
"Give me the shard."
Luo Yun didn't move.
The masked man tilted his head.
"No?"
A sigh. Almost gentle.
"Then I will take it."
He raised a single hand.
A ripple tore through the ground — a force palm, condensed and refined.
Luo Yun tried to dodge — but he was too slow.
The blow struck.
His ribs cracked. His body flew backward, crashing against stone.
He coughed blood, vision dimming.
The scroll almost slipped from his robe.
But fingers — her fingers — caught it.
The woman stood between him and the masked cultivator now, blade trembling.
"Leave him," she said.
"You're not strong enough," he replied.
She didn't argue.
She simply attacked.
The clash was brief — a single exchange.
Her blade met his palm.
The mountain trembled.
When the dust cleared, she was on her knees, coughing blood.
But she was alive.
Because something had interrupted the fight.
A light — golden and ancient — pulsed from Luo Yun's satchel.
The crystal shard.
It floated into the air, spinning rapidly.
The masked cultivator stopped.
"…That's not a memory shard," he said, voice tightening.
"That's a seal fragment."
Too late.
The shard exploded in light.
A rune spread across the air, glowing bright as the sun.
A formation — older than the sects.
Older than the empires.
And it marked one thing:
Ownership.
The shard burned itself into Luo Yun's chest — and vanished.
The scroll glowed in response.
The legacy had chosen its heir.
The masked cultivator took one step forward—
—then stopped.
Something… was watching.
From above.
From the sky.
From the very heavens.
"So it begins again," he said, almost with sadness.
Then he turned.
And disappeared.
Luo Yun collapsed.
The woman caught him.
The ridge was quiet once more.
Those who remained did not follow.
They had seen too much.
Later that night, across the rogue cultivator networks, across black market camps and abandoned sect ruins…
A whisper spread.
"A boy named Luo Yun walked out of the Falling Star Cave."
"He holds the inheritance of a fallen Nascent Soul cultivator."
"And the seal has chosen him."
Bounties were placed.
Kill orders issued.
Some wanted the scroll.
Others wanted to silence what it represented.
But one thing was certain:
The path of Luo Yun would no longer be silent.
It would be written in blood and stars.