The night had passed quietly.
Karma sat cross-legged within the small cavern, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The chaos outside—the fading roars of beasts, the last rumbles of clashing titans—had dimmed into a distant, manageable hum. The air within the cave was still, filled only with the soft, soothing pulse of spirit moss glowing faintly against the walls.
When he finally opened his eyes, dawn had already crept into the valley. The twin suns of the Astral Vein rose once more, washing the fractured landscape in pale gold.
Host recovery at 92%. Qi circulation restored. Meridian stability—optimal. Mira's voice was clear, the panic of the previous day gone.
"Good," Karma murmured, stretching his arms. The agonizing aches from yesterday's dance with the Drakekin had dulled, replaced by the grounded strength of the Foundation Establishment Realm. "Let's move before something bigger decides this cave looks cozy."
He stepped out, scanning the forest below. Smoke still coiled lazily from distant craters, and the once-lush trees were now jagged silhouettes against a silver horizon. Everything reeked of old power—not dead, merely sleeping.
Karma adjusted the strap of his sword and began walking downhill.
Echoes of the Past
Hours passed as he moved through the broken landscape, his steps quick and light. Stone ridges jutted from the ground like ancient ribs, covered in moss and shattered relics. Here and there, he found faint traces of formation lines carved into the earth—intricate arrays now dull and lifeless. But for some reason there is no monsters or beasts in the area.
"Mira, scan the area," he said quietly.
Residual formation traces detected. Estimated age: exceeding ten million years. Possible remains of a high-tier sect compound.
Karma stopped, heartbeat quickening. "A sect? Out here?"
Probability—eighty-two percent. Suggestion: proceed with caution. High chance of automated defenses, though energy supply appears depleted.
He walked forward carefully, every step crunching against brittle stone. Ruins stretched out before him—a once-magnificent sect complex reduced to rubble. Cracked pillars still bore fragments of engraved words, long eroded by time. Faded murals clung to surviving walls, depicting figures meditating beneath stars or battling beasts of impossible scale.
A sense of reverence settled over him.
"This place…" he whispered. "It used to be alive."
Historical energy readings suggest it once rivaled major sects of the Upper Realm. Now… it's a tomb.
The wind sighed through hollow corridors, carrying whispers that might've once been chants.
Among the fallen halls and half-buried statues, one structure still stood.
A pagoda.
The Silent Guardians
The pagoda rose from the heart of the ruins, impossibly tall, its seven tiers shimmering faintly under the light. The stone was neither jade nor metal—something else entirely, something untouched by time. Cracks spidered along its base, but the core structure stood firm, as if defying the ages themselves.
Around its entrance, rows of humanoid figures lined the path—puppets forged of silver and obsidian, their once-polished armor dulled with age. Each held a spear or halberd, their faces expressionless, eyes dark.
Karma froze.
"Defensive constructs," he muttered. "But…"
He stepped closer, ready to bolt at the slightest movement.
Nothing happened.
The puppets stood unmoving, like statues waiting for a command that would never come. A thin layer of dust covered their joints; many were cracked or missing limbs. Some had collapsed entirely, broken beyond repair.
No active core energy detected. They appear inert. Spirit stones powering them long depleted.
Karma exhaled slowly. "Even after all this time, they're still standing. That's craftsmanship."
Admiration? Mira teased lightly. You want one of those, don't you?
He grinned faintly. "If I could fix one, I'd have a walking shield."
Passing between them felt like walking through a graveyard of ancient warriors. Their silent presence carried weight—the memory of a sect that once guarded the heavens.
At the pagoda's great doors, he paused. They were carved with a single sigil—a blooming lotus encircled by runes he didn't recognize. Faint traces of formation energy pulsed beneath the surface.
Warning. Unknown energy signature—stable but active.
"Active?" Karma frowned. "Then why didn't the puppets move?"
Energy source localized deeper within. Possibly isolated from outer defense systems.
He pressed his hand against the door. It felt cool, smooth—like touching condensed moonlight. The surface shimmered faintly at his touch, recognizing something… or someone.
The runes glowed softly, and the heavy door opened without a sound.
Inside was silence.
The pagoda's first floor was vast and empty, bathed in a dim, crystalline glow that seemed to come from nowhere. The air smelled faintly of incense and spirit liquid. The floor was made of seamless white stone, unmarred by time or decay.
At its center lay a small pool, no larger than a courtyard pond. Its water glowed with a pale azure hue, like melted gems. Above it floated a single lotus—each petal translucent, carved of crystal, its heart radiating a gentle, pulsing light.
Karma stood rooted to the spot.
"…Mira?"
Analysis… incomplete. Unknown spiritual material detected. She sounded astonished. The water itself contains dense life essence mixed with powerful physique-enhancing properties. The crystalline lotus acts as a stabilizing catalyst.
He crouched by the edge, mesmerized by the way ripples shimmered across the surface. Even standing near it made his skin tingle, as if the liquid were alive, calling to his blood.
"This must've been some kind of cultivation chamber," he murmured. "But after millions of years, for this to still exist…"
The preservation indicates divine-grade craftsmanship. The energy within the liquid remains untainted. Consuming or absorbing it may significantly improve your body's resilience and spiritual compatibility.
Karma's heart thudded once, hard. "So it can temper the physique?"
Correct. It will strengthen your meridians, expand your dantian capacity, and fortify your foundation. However, it is volatile. Misuse could rupture your body.
He studied the lotus again. Its petals seemed to shift subtly when he moved, like it was aware of him. Its beauty was serene, yet alien—something beyond comprehension.
"What about the flower itself?"
Unknown. I have no record of a crystalline lotus that can survive this long without decay. If your strength improves, I might cross-reference its aura with old databanks. Otherwise… we'll need to seek information elsewhere.
Karma smiled faintly. "Then I'll get stronger. One mystery at a time."
He removed his outer robe, folded it neatly beside the pool, and stepped closer. The air above the liquid was thick with qi, enough to make his breath heavy.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface, a rush of warmth surged up his arm. It wasn't burning—it was… refining. The energy sank into his skin like molten silk.
He sat down cross-legged at the pool's edge, took a deep breath, and began to circulate his Unknown Scripture. The outside world and its dangers were temporarily forgotten. He had found a refuge, and a path to power.
The Foundation Establishment Realm had granted him survival; this pool would grant him resilience.