Chapter Eighteen – Shadows Over Scarlet Moon Peak
The first light of dawn spilled over the mountains, gilding the Scarlet Moon Peak in crimson fire. The sect was awake before the sun, the clang of weapons echoing from every courtyard, the air thick with qi and ambition.
Jesse Jordan stood at the center of the Inner Court training ground, surrounded by a dozen disciples in silver robes. His own robes were still the dark gray of an outer disciple—he hadn't yet accepted the ceremonial garb Elder Morris had offered. To him, such symbols meant little. Power was not woven into fabric.
He exhaled slowly, letting his qi circulate. The faint hum of Voidfang beside him blended with the rhythm of his breath. Each inhale drew in the faint traces of life and death qi from the air, merging them in his dantian where they coiled together like twin dragons.
Opposite him stood Senior Disciple Wei Han, a proud cultivator with sharp eyes and a disdainful smirk. "Elder Morris's new prodigy," he sneered. "The sect whispers that you tamed the Abyssal Core. I wonder if your strength matches your arrogance."
Jesse tilted his head slightly. "You wonder too much."
Wei Han's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."
He moved first, his sword flashing in a blur of crimson light. The technique was advanced—Scarlet Moon Flash, a mid-tier movement art that split his image into three aftershadows. The watching disciples gasped, some already whispering wagers.
Jesse didn't move until the last instant. When he did, it was as if the air itself bent. His blade traced a slow arc, almost lazy, but the afterimages shattered like glass. Voidfang met Wei Han's sword with a dull hum, and a wave of invisible force rippled outward.
Wei Han staggered back, his blade vibrating violently. The ground between them split open in a perfect line.
Silence fell.
Jesse lowered his sword. "You're fast," he said quietly. "But your heart is noisy. That's why the void rejects you."
Wei Han's face reddened. He lunged again, this time faster, his qi flaring crimson. But Jesse merely stepped aside, letting the strike pass harmlessly. He didn't counter—he didn't need to. The moment Wei's attack missed, the void's pulse recoiled through his body, draining his strength.
Wei stumbled to his knees, gasping, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Elder Morris's voice cut through the murmurs. "Enough."
The old man's figure appeared on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, his silver hair unbound, his eyes gleaming with quiet pride. "The void does not favor those who fight against it," he said. "It consumes them. Remember that."
Jesse sheathed Voidfang and bowed. "Understood, Elder."
Morris nodded once. "Come with me. There's something you must learn before your next step devours you."
---
They walked in silence through the winding path that led to Scarlet Moon Peak's summit. The air grew thinner, colder. Qi currents twisted unpredictably here, the result of centuries of cultivation battles.
When they reached a plateau overlooking the valley, Morris stopped. "This is the Meditation Field," he said. "Here, qi flows untamed. A perfect place to lose control—and learn from it."
Jesse knelt at the center of the field. The ground beneath him pulsed faintly with residual energy. "What do you mean, lose control?"
Morris chuckled. "The Ninefold Sutra isn't meant to be tamed. It's meant to be understood. Each layer consumes the one before. To advance, you must allow it to break you—and survive the breaking."
He lifted a hand, sending a thread of light into Jesse's chest. "You stand at the Second Fold, where void and life meet. This next stage will test your spirit, not your body."
Immediately, Jesse's vision darkened. The world fell away.
---
He stood in a field of stars again, but this time they were faint, dying. The void stretched endlessly, and at its center floated a mirror—its surface black as ink.
Jesse approached cautiously. His reflection stared back, identical yet wrong. Its eyes gleamed too bright, its aura heavy with killing intent.
The reflection smiled. "You think you can walk the void's path without losing yourself?"
Jesse's hand tightened on Voidfang. "I've already lost everything worth losing."
"Then what's left?" the reflection asked softly.
Jesse hesitated. The silence that followed stretched long and suffocating. Then his reflection stepped forward—and the mirror shattered.
Black shards sliced through the air, embedding in Jesse's skin. His vision filled with pain, his soul tearing in two. He felt the familiar whisper of the void echo through his mind.
Consume… or be consumed.
He screamed, channeling his qi wildly, forcing the shards back with sheer will. Light and shadow exploded from his core, merging into a storm that ripped through the void.
When it cleared, he stood alone—no reflection, no stars, only calm.
The voice of the Void Emperor returned, faint but clear.
"You understand now. Balance is not peace—it is war held in stillness."
Jesse opened his eyes.
---
Back on Scarlet Moon Peak, Elder Morris watched as the boy's aura shifted. The faint flickers of jade and shadow now intertwined perfectly, each feeding the other. The air itself vibrated around him, faint ripples distorting light.
When Jesse rose, his gaze was steady—cold, focused, alive.
Morris nodded approvingly. "You've crossed the Second Fold."
Jesse exhaled slowly. "It felt like dying."
Morris smiled faintly. "Then you did it right."
---
Far below, within the Miles Clan Pavilion, Ken Miles stood before a sealed jade coffin. His body still bore faint scars from his previous defeat, but his hatred had grown stronger than pain.
He dropped to one knee before the coffin. "Ancestor, I invoke the Miles bloodline vow. Lend me your power, that I may reclaim our honor."
The coffin trembled. A crack formed across the jade surface, and a cold, ancient voice seeped into the air.
"You summon me for vengeance?"
"Yes," Ken hissed. "For one unworthy insect who defied us all."
The coffin glowed. A wisp of crimson energy escaped, coiling around his arm. The mark burned into his skin, veins darkening. "Then take this gift, descendant. The Blood Reversal Seal. Use it—but know it devours its bearer's life."
Ken gritted his teeth, pain twisting his face. "I don't care."
The voice laughed softly. "Good. Hatred will make you strong—for a time."
When the glow faded, Ken's eyes burned red, his aura unstable but deadly.
"Jesse Jordan," he whispered, "you'll kneel before me yet."
---
That night, rain swept across the sect.
Daisy Mellon stood under the eaves of the Moonlight Pavilion, gazing toward the distant peak where Elder Morris's hall glowed faintly through the mist. Her hands tightened around the talisman Jesse had once returned to her.
Since his return, she had seen him only from afar—silent, colder, changed. The boy who once stumbled through training had become a storm wrapped in human form. But beneath the strength, she sensed something else: loneliness.
She turned to leave, only to find Elder Ryn standing behind her.
"Spying again, Miss Mellon?" he asked, voice smooth but sharp. "Your concern for the boy is touching. Dangerous, but touching."
She bowed slightly. "I was merely—"
"Watching him," Ryn interrupted. "Be careful. The sect tolerates the void's heir for now, but the heavens do not. Those who stand too close to him tend to vanish."
Her jaw tightened. "Are you threatening me, Elder?"
He smiled thinly. "Merely reminding you of how fragile affection can be."
He turned and disappeared into the rain, leaving her alone with the sound of thunder.
---
Back on Scarlet Moon Peak, Jesse sat cross-legged in meditation, the storm raging outside.
Each drop of rain that struck the barrier around him rippled with faint black light before evaporating. The energy inside his body flowed in perfect balance now—light feeding dark, dark tempering light.
He opened his eyes.
The Ninefold Void Sutra's Second Fold was complete. The Third loomed ahead like a mountain in shadow.
But before he could begin, he felt something—distant but sharp—cut through the air. A surge of qi, crimson and hateful, from the direction of the Miles Clan Pavilion.
His gaze hardened. "So he moves already."
He stood, sheathing Voidfang. The sword pulsed once, as if eager.
Elder Morris's voice drifted from the doorway. "Are you truly going to face him so soon?"
Jesse turned. "If I don't, he'll drag others into his madness."
Morris's eyes glimmered with something like pride. "Then remember—do not fight to kill. Fight to understand."
Jesse inclined his head. "Understanding begins with survival."
With that, he stepped into the storm, the rain bending away from him as he vanished into the night.
---
Far below, lightning split the sky, illuminating the two figures who would soon collide—the broken heir of the Miles Clan, burning with cursed power, and the orphan who carried the void within his soul.
The sect held its breath, the heavens whispered, and the balance of fate began to tilt.