Back in the cell, I didn't open the metal box immediately. It was too risky. Yan's spies were everywhere—even in the darkness of the cell, I felt invisible eyes watching. So I waited, sitting cross-legged with my eyes closed, pretending to meditate to stabilize my spiritual energy after the fight with Jiao.
Old Man, as usual, read the situation without needing to ask. He sat in his corner, fiddling with a few small pebbles with his wrinkled fingers—a harmless-looking habit that was actually a small ritual to disrupt low-level spiritual surveillance. The sound of the grating pebbles created minor vibrations that could blur the senses of weaker spiritual spies.
"Busy night," he muttered without looking at me. "Two slaves missing from their cells. One returns soaking wet. The other with eyes full of even greater hatred."
"Yan set it all up," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "The message from Shen... it was a trap."
Old Man stopped playing with the pebbles. "So Shen is already...?"
"I don't know. But there was something at the Spring. Something Yan didn't want me to find, or maybe he wanted to see if I would find it." I felt the weight of the metal box hidden beneath my straw bedding. "I don't know anymore who is playing whom."
"In this place," Old Man said wearily, "everyone is playing. Until only one player remains, or until the game board itself collapses."
Silence fell. I heard snores and groans from the other cells. The night watch had passed for its second round. It was now or never.
Slowly, I pulled out the metal box I had hidden behind my back. It was the size of my fist, made of metal carved with protective symbols—not the Clan's seal, but older, more personal engravings. I recognized the carving style from the memory of an old craftsman I had absorbed: this was Shen's own work.
The box wasn't physically locked, but there was a thin spiritual layer coating it. Not for protection, but for verification—only someone with a specific "touch" could open it without triggering an alarm.
Can you read it? I asked my "Seed."
It extended its awareness, carefully examining the spiritual layer. After a moment, it sent me an image—a frequency, a specific spiritual "tone." I recognized it. It was the same frequency I had once felt from one of the souls in my collection—an old overseer who had worked with Shen decades ago.
With full focus, I aligned my "Seed's" energy with that frequency. The spiritual layer on the box vibrated, then slowly faded.
The box opened with a soft click.
Inside were three items: a more detailed leather scroll than the first, a small, dull blue crystal that emitted a cold energy, and a scrap of cloth stained with dried blood.
Old Man crawled closer, his eyes squinting at the box's contents. "That is..." his voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on the blood-stained cloth. "That is a Blood Oath Token."
I picked up the cloth carefully. Indeed, in the middle of the blackened bloodstain, a faintly glowing symbol was embroidered—a soul-binding oath symbol.
"Shen made an oath," Old Man whispered, his voice trembling. "He bound his own soul to something. And if this cloth is here, it means..."
"It means he's still alive," I continued. "Or has only just died. A Blood Oath Token would destroy itself if its maker had passed." I examined the cloth more closely. The symbol still pulsed weakly, like a dying heart.
I put the cloth down and picked up the leather scroll. Unrolling it slowly, I saw Shen's handwriting—hurried, under pressure.
---
[To whoever finds this!
If you are reading this, it means I have been captured or silenced. Yan is not just a mad researcher—he is a Shadow Cultivator sent by a dark faction within the Elder Council. The Resurrection Project is a facade. The true goal is to awaken the Buried One to use as a living weapon against rival factions in the Clan.
But they do not know the whole truth: The Buried One is not an ancient god. It is a Primordial Spiritual Parasite—the mother of all the Dark Seeds planted in the slaves' bodies. Awakening it means unleashing a plague that will devour all spiritual life in this mine, including the Elders themselves.
The crystal in this box is a Fragment of the Primordial Core—a small piece of the Buried One's core that I stole during a formation repair. With this, someone with a sufficiently evolved Seed can do one of two things:
1. Use this Fragment to strengthen their Seed to the point where they can control the Buried One when it awakens—becoming its master, not its prey.
2. Destroy this Fragment in a special ritual that will permanently weaken the Buried One's bonds, delaying its awakening for several generations.
The first choice offers unimaginable power. The second choice offers time to escape or build a resistance.
I cannot make that choice. I am just an old overseer with a conscience that woke up too late. But you—whoever you are—have a chance I never had.
Forgive me for not being able to do more. Forgive all of us who let this system grow into a monster.
— Shen ]
---
I read the scroll twice, three times, making sure every word was absorbed. My "Seed" reacted to the words with an intense vibration—it felt the presence of the Fragment, and the hunger that awoke was something I had never felt before. Not mere hunger, but a primordial call, like a child hearing its mother's voice for the first time.
"It wants it," Liang Jie whispered, his voice full of warning. "It wants it more than anything. This is a piece of its origin."
I picked up the dull blue crystal. As my fingers touched it, an explosion of memories not my own flooded my mind—images of a giant creature made of solid darkness, with thousands of eyes and mouths, devouring spiritual stars in a different realm. Then, images of that creature being shattered, imprisoned by ancient cultivators who sacrificed their entire civilization to seal it away.
The Buried One was a remnant of an extinct civilization—a cosmic monster forced to sleep, and now these foolish Clansmen wanted to wake it.
"This is an unfair choice," I said, my voice shaking. "Become the master of a monster, or delay the catastrophe?"
"There are no fair choices in this place," Old Man answered. "But there are choices you can live with without losing yourself completely."
I stared at the crystal. The choice was clear in theory: destroy this Fragment, weaken the Buried One, buy time for everyone. But inside me, thousands of voices whispered in different tones.
Use it! With that power, we can crush Yan and all who oppress us! cried Liang Jie and many other rebellious voices.
Don't! Power like that will turn you into what we hate! argued the wiser voices.
Or... there is a third option, whispered a new voice—a cunning strategist. Make Yan think you will use this Fragment. Make yourself too valuable to kill. Then, at the last moment, destroy it all.
That was the most dangerous path—walking a razor-thin line between manipulation and total destruction.
"I need time," I said finally, wrapping the crystal back in the cloth and storing it in the box. "To understand this. To plan."
"Time is a luxury we don't have," Old Man reminded. "The special evaluation tomorrow—it's surely not just a regular test. Yan is tightening the noose."
He was right. I could feel the pressure intensifying, like walls slowly moving in to crush me.
But now, at least, I had a trump card—a weapon even Yan didn't know I possessed. The Fragment of the Primordial Core. A small piece of the very god they were trying to awaken.
My "Seed" spun in my core, pulsing with a dark anticipation. It knew what was in the box. It knew what it meant. And for the first time since we had become one, I felt something new from it—not just hunger or fear, but something resembling... ambition.
That frightened me more than anything.
---
The morning came too quickly. The stone siren sounded with a different tone—louder, more urgent. This wasn't the usual call. It was an emergency siren.
All the Chosen Disciples were lined up in the mine's main plaza, the place usually used for public executions. On the stone stage stood Overseer Yan, two Dark Instructors, and most shockingly—three Clan Elders in blood-red robes, their spiritual auras making the air around them vibrate.
"Today," Yan's voice boomed, amplified by a sound formation, "you will undergo the Final Proving Trial. Only five out of ten will survive. The five best will advance to the final phase of the Resurrection Project."
A deadly silence fell. This was no longer about training. This was a brutal selection to choose the sacrificial offerings.
"The rules are simple," Yan continued, his smile cold. "You will be released into the Soul Labyrinth beneath the mine. Inside, there are five Seal Fragments—hidden in various locations. Whoever returns with a Fragment will survive. The others..." He didn't need to finish the sentence.
Jiao stared at me from across the line, his eyes full of murderous promise. Next to me, a young girl with a newly evolved Seed trembled violently—she knew she stood no chance.
But what frightened me most was the way one of the Elders—an old woman with snake-like eyes—stared at me with an overly interested gaze. Like a collector looking at a rare gem.
'They've already chosen you,' Liang Jie whispered grimly. 'No matter if you win or lose, you've been marked as the "prime bait."'
The great door to the Soul Labyrinth opened with a terrifying groan of metal. From within, flowed a black mist that smelled of grave soil and death.
"Enter," Yan commanded. "And may the Darkness bless the strongest."
One by one, we stepped inside. As I crossed the threshold, I felt the small box hidden inside my clothes—the Fragment of the Primordial Core, which I had concealed with a thin spiritual layer to avoid detection.
I didn't know if it would be my savior or my executioner. But one thing was certain: inside that Soul Labyrinth, I would face not only monsters and traps, but also a choice that would determine not only my fate, but the fate of everyone in this cursed mine.
The door closed behind us with a deafening sound. Darkness swallowed everything. And from that darkness, I heard the first scream.
The trial had begun.
---
END OF CHAPTER 19
Wa Lang enters the Soul Labyrinth with a deadly secret—the stolen Fragment of the Primordial Core. He must now survive against nine other desperate Chosen Disciples, find the fake Seal Fragments Yan has planted, all while hiding the true Fragment that could change everything. Meanwhile, the Elders have marked him as the "prime bait," turning this survival trial into an even deadlier trap. In the darkness of the Labyrinth, his heaviest choice awaits—and the first scream signals that the killing has already begun.