The shrine lay in ruin.
Flickering embers of burnt prayer scrolls danced in the evening breeze as Mo Lianyin stepped into the sacred grounds of the Crimson Oracle. His boots crunched against charred gravel. No birds. No insects. Just silence that screamed.
He was alone. Or so he thought.
"You returned," said a voice, cold and soft as falling snow.
Lianyin turned slowly. A figure emerged from the smoke — not hostile, not friendly — veiled in the crimson garb of a Seer. White hair spilled like silk down their back, and gold thread wrapped around their blindfold.
"Oracle," he murmured. "I need answers."
The Oracle, known only as Yunran, tilted their head. "You never left with questions. Only anger."
"I was a child."
"You still are."
His jaw clenched, fingers twitching. He didn't have time for riddles. The flames of war burned closer each day. His scars throbbed with the weight of what was coming. He needed clarity — not riddles, not memories.
"I came for the Crimson Oath," he said.
The wind halted.
Even the flames bowed.
"That oath has not been taken in five hundred years," Yunran whispered. "To take it is to bind your soul to vengeance. Your heart will know no peace. Love will flee from you. You will become what the heavens fear."
"I'm already cursed," Lianyin snapped. "I was betrayed. Forgotten. Left to rot."
"You were spared," the Oracle said gently.
That cut deeper than any blade.
He remembered the cave. The screams. The chains. The betrayal of those he once called kin.
"Tell me," he rasped. "If I take the oath… will I have the strength to kill them?"
Yunran stepped forward and placed their palm on his chest. "You already do. But strength without balance becomes destruction. Are you ready to carry the weight of every life you take?"
"I've carried the weight of every tear I cried. I'll carry theirs too."
The Oracle sighed. Then they stepped aside, revealing a bloodstained altar half-swallowed by earth and time.
"Then kneel."
He did.
His knees struck the stone. A dagger rose from the altar, ancient and obsidian, its blade humming with dormant power.
"Name your offering."
Lianyin closed his eyes. Then, with trembling fingers, he removed the jade pendant from around his neck — the last relic of his mother.
"This," he said. "My last piece of love."
The Oracle wept.
The dagger sliced his palm. Blood splattered on the altar. The wind howled, and the skies darkened. Ancient runes lit beneath him.
The pact was made.
The Crimson Oath had a new bearer.
---
Far away, in the palace of clouds, a woman dressed in starlight opened her eyes.
"He's awakened," she whispered.
A shadow behind her stirred. "Should I stop him?"
"No," she said, voice heavy with sorrow. "Let the storm come. Let him become the end we tried to avoid."
---
Back at the shrine, Mo Lianyin rose.
His eyes glowed.
His scars shimmered.
A crimson lotus bloomed at his feet.
"I will burn them all," he whispered.
And the heavens trembled.