Chapter Sixteen – The Abyss Stirs
The silence that followed the beast's death was not peace—it was warning.
Jesse Jordan stood in the ruins of the clearing, his fractured sword resting against the ground, its dim jade light pulsing in slow rhythm with his heartbeat. Ash drifted like snow around him. Every breath he took carried the metallic taste of death qi. The black wolf's remains had already dissolved into mist, leaving behind only cracked bones and a faint tremor that still pulsed beneath the soil.
The forest was alive—and watching.
Jesse's gaze swept the twisted treeline. The skeletal trees leaned unnaturally, their charred branches creaking though there was no wind. Beneath his boots, the ground throbbed with something like a heartbeat. He could feel it through his soles, through the blade, through his blood.
A whisper slithered through the air.
"Deeper… deeper… seek the heart…"
It wasn't the sword's voice this time. It came from everywhere and nowhere, resonating from the forest itself. Jesse's grip tightened on the fractured blade, his mind sharpening like a drawn bowstring. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back—but his soul refused.
He had never turned back. Not when he was beaten. Not when he was broken. Not now.
He took a single step forward.
The ground shuddered in response. Bones cracked beneath the surface, and a ring of black mist rose around him, spiraling like a vortex. Jesse's qi surged to his limbs, ready to cut through whatever emerged—but what came was not a creature.
It was memory.
The mist rippled, and the clearing warped. The twisted trees dissolved into stars. The ground vanished, replaced by a vast expanse of darkness and drifting light. Jesse floated weightless, his body suspended in a space that stretched without end. It was the same void he had glimpsed when the jade slip first entered his soul—but this time, it was deeper, clearer… alive.
And before him stood a man.
Clad in robes woven from constellations, his presence swallowed light itself. His hair shimmered silver, his eyes like two abysses reflecting galaxies. Power radiated from him, ancient and cold, yet familiar.
The Void Emperor.
Jesse knew it without words. The very name echoed through the air like thunder.
The man's voice rolled across the stars, neither loud nor soft but absolute. "You have touched the first echo of the legacy."
Jesse's throat tightened. He knelt instinctively, his voice hoarse. "You… you are the one from the jade slip."
The Emperor regarded him, expression unreadable. "You walk the Ninefold Void Sutra. The path of dissolution and rebirth. Few endure its first breath, fewer still its second. And yet you stand."
Jesse's hand trembled on the sword. "Why was I chosen?"
The Emperor's eyes flared faintly. "Because you were nothing."
Jesse froze.
"Those born to greatness," the Emperor continued, "carry weight—bloodlines, clans, destinies. They are bound by heaven's laws. But you, child of the earth, unshackled by name or blood, can reach where none dare tread. The void does not favor the proud. It devours them. But it hungers for the lost."
His words sank into Jesse's bones like molten iron. "The lost…" he whispered.
The Emperor raised his hand. The stars behind him rippled, folding into a great symbol—the same one that had burned into Jesse's chest when Elder Morris marked him. A sigil of balance, of power, of chaos.
"The Ninefold Sutra is not a ladder. It is a descent," the Emperor intoned. "You must fall into the void's depths and claw your way back reborn. The beast you slew was the first gate. The next lies below."
"Below?" Jesse asked. "What lies beneath this forest?"
The Emperor's gaze turned distant. "The corpse of an ancient world. A fragment of a heaven long devoured. Beneath those bones lies the Abyssal Core—the second echo of my legacy. Claim it… or be consumed by it."
Before Jesse could reply, the Emperor's image fractured like glass. The stars imploded, the void screamed, and the world slammed back into existence.
Jesse gasped, collapsing to one knee. The clearing had returned, but the mist now churned violently, as if the forest itself was alive with rage. The tremor beneath the ground intensified until the soil cracked, bones rising like pillars.
From the depths, a low rumble began—deep, slow, and monstrous.
Then the earth split.
A massive structure emerged, half buried in decay—a temple forged from black stone and bone, covered in chains of glowing red script. Each rune pulsed with ancient power, sealing something within.
Jesse's eyes widened. "The Abyssal Core…"
As if in answer, the fractured sword shivered violently, its jade crack blazing with light. It yearned—no, it hungered—for what lay below. The bond between blade and bearer burned through Jesse's hand, urging him forward.
He grit his teeth. "Fine. Then we go together."
He descended the cracked steps leading into the temple.
---
The air within was colder than the grave. Each breath fogged in front of him, hanging in the darkness like ghostly mist. The walls were etched with carvings—ancient battles of cultivators wielding blades of light against figures cloaked in shadows. Beneath the carvings, dried blood had turned to black crystals that pulsed faintly when he passed.
The deeper Jesse went, the louder his heartbeat became.
thump… thump… thump…
But it wasn't only his. The temple itself seemed to breathe with him, their rhythms synchronizing. He descended a final stair, stepping into a vast chamber at the temple's heart.
At its center floated a sphere of black light—the Abyssal Core. It pulsed with power so dense that the air around it wavered, twisting like a mirage. The fractured sword's jade veins glowed in answer, a faint hum vibrating through Jesse's bones.
He stepped forward.
Immediately, a voice tore through his mind—a thousand whispers layered atop each other, speaking in tongues he didn't understand. His vision blurred, the world spinning. For a moment, he saw flashes of memory—wars across starless skies, mountains turned to ash, rivers of jade blood spilling into the void.
He clutched his head, teeth bared. "Stop!"
The voices didn't obey.
Pain lanced through his soul. His meridians flared, burning as the residual black qi from the wolf mixed violently with his own. He fell to one knee, the fractured sword driving into the stone beside him to keep him from collapsing fully.
"Show me…" he hissed through gritted teeth. "Show me what you are!"
The whispers shifted.
Then—clarity.
The voice became singular. Feminine. Calm. "You seek the heart of the void. But the heart does not grant—it devours."
A figure stepped from the core—a woman, translucent, her form composed of swirling shadows and starlight. Her face was half-hidden beneath a veil, but her presence carried the weight of ages.
Jesse's chest tightened. "Who are you?"
"The first," she said softly. "The one who walked before even the Emperor. The Void was mine before it was his. And now, it chooses again."
She reached toward him, her hand cool as moonlight. "You carry both life and death within you. I can see it—the wolf's darkness and the jade's light. Together, they will either forge a new path… or destroy you."
Jesse's vision swam. "Then tell me—what must I do?"
The shadow-woman smiled faintly. "Bleed."
Before he could react, her hand pierced his chest.
Agony exploded through his veins. His qi spiraled out of control, his dantian trembling as if about to burst. The world dimmed, sound vanished, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. His vision filled with images again—stars dying, worlds collapsing, the Emperor's cold eyes watching from afar.
He screamed, clutching at the hand embedded in his chest. "I won't die here!"
The woman's expression softened. "Then live."
Her form dissolved, merging into him like a tide of black flame. The core shattered into shards that embedded themselves in Jesse's flesh, sending waves of power coursing through every vein.
The fractured sword erupted with light, its jade glow now streaked with black, as if the void itself had bled into it. The hum grew louder—deeper—resonating with his heartbeat until they were one.
And then—silence.
---
Far above, on the ridge overlooking the Obsidian Bone Forest, the disciples scattered as a shockwave rippled through the valley. The mists parted, a column of light—half jade, half black—bursting upward, piercing the clouds.
Elder Morris stood among the gathering of elders, his eyes wide for the first time in decades. "He found it."
The Sect Master's face was unreadable. "Then the legacy has chosen in truth."
Daisy, standing at the edge of the cliff, clutched her talisman, her eyes locked on the blazing light that split the horizon. Her voice trembled. "Jesse…"
---
Deep below, the storm quieted.
Jesse knelt in the shattered remains of the chamber. The air was still, the walls cracked, the carvings glowing faintly. His body smoked faintly from the released energy, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps.
But when he lifted his head, his eyes were no longer merely human.
One burned with jade light. The other flickered with black flame.
The fractured sword hovered beside him, floating weightless, its hum now deep and resonant. He reached for it, and it came willingly, the bond between them stronger than ever. For the first time, Jesse felt its name whisper in his mind.
Voidfang.
He spoke the word aloud, and the blade pulsed in response.
Power coursed through him—not wild like before, but controlled, tempered, alive. His senses expanded. He could feel the forest's every shadow, every drop of death qi flowing like blood through its roots. It bowed to him now, no longer hostile but reverent.
He exhaled slowly. "So this is the next step…"
But the moment of calm did not last.
From deep within the earth came another sound—faint, distant, but filled with malice. The kind of presence that made the soul instinctively recoil. Jesse's new senses flared, and his expression hardened.
It was not done.
Whatever the forest hid… it was waking.
He sheathed the sword, his movements deliberate, steady. The light in his eyes dimmed, though it never fully faded. "Then I'll meet it too."
He turned toward the exit, the temple trembling behind him as he began the long ascent back to the surface.
And far above, thunder rolled across the heavens, echoing through the Scarlet Ember Peaks. The sect below stirred uneasily, elders whispering of omens, disciples dreaming of jade and shadow.
The forest's heart had been disturbed.
And Jesse Jordan—the boy once called broken—walked now with the breath of the void itself.