---
The roar of the waterfall drowned the world around Ash as he stood beneath its crashing flow, his body soaked to the bone, his mind clouded with lingering whispers. The cold water battered his back, the force of it like the weight of an unspoken truth. But it did nothing to still the unease gnawing at him. No, the waterfall's power was nothing compared to what stirred inside him now.
Every time he tried to focus, to connect to the essence of cultivation, his qi surged like a wave, breaking against the walls of his body. It wasn't just the technique—Silent Meridian Flow—it was something deeper. Something ancient and forgotten that seemed to awaken with every breath.
Ash closed his eyes, grounding himself once again. The wind howled around him, but it was the sensation that gripped him now. A pulse—a lingering whisper that traveled through the very marrow of his bones. The coldness of the stone beneath his feet seeped into his skin, but it wasn't the stone that chilled him. It was the sensation of being watched… as though the stone itself held secrets.
His mind flickered back to the library, to that page he had seen—the strange symbol that had spoken to him without words. The mark of the Deep Crescent. It had appeared on a piece of ancient text, one that should have been lost to history. But instead, it had called to him, reaching out with tendrils of memory he couldn't quite grasp.
---
Meanwhile, in the Elder Halls…
The meeting room was tense, bathed in the dim light of oil lamps. The circular table, worn by age and use, was covered with jade slips and ancient scrolls. Elder Jinhai's fingers drummed lightly against its surface, his mind far from the present. His gaze was fixed on the slip of jade in front of him, which pulsed with a faint crimson light.
"The symbol has appeared again," Jinhai said, his voice low. "It is unmistakable."
Elder Lanyue, who had been silently watching him, stiffened at the mention of the mark. "Are you certain?" she asked, her voice hushed with both fear and reverence. "The Deep Crescent... it cannot be."
"It is," Jinhai replied. "I've seen it. I've felt it." He glanced up, his face grave. "The seal beneath the Southern Trident Sea is weakening. Something—someone—has triggered it. And I believe the boy, Ash, is at the center of it."
Lanyue's eyes narrowed. "He's just a disciple. A lowly mortal."
"Is he?" Jinhai's tone was sharp now, a hint of unease creeping into his words. "The seal that binds the ancient being, the one who defied the Dao itself, is no trivial matter. It was placed by an entity far older than even our sect. To trigger it, even in part, would take more than just the touch of any mortal. It would require—" He paused, looking over to the third elder, Elder Ruqin. "—something or someone who has touched the very fabric of power that holds this world together."
Elder Ruqin, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "Are you saying that Ash has awakened some kind of connection with this ancient being?"
"I don't know," Jinhai replied. "But I feel it. Every time I get close to him, I sense… something pulling. Not just his qi, but something darker. Older."
Lanyue's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "If Ash is the key, then we must protect him. Whatever is awakening beneath the Southern Trident Sea cannot be allowed to escape. Not again."
Jinhai nodded slowly. "We will watch him closely. He is more than a simple disciple. And we must find out how deeply he is connected to this ancient force before it's too late."
---
Back at the Sect's Grounds…
Ash pulled himself out from under the waterfall, his breath heavy as the water cascaded from his drenched robes. His mind was foggy, his senses clouded by the weight of what he had just discovered—and the unsettling feeling that something was still watching him. It wasn't just the elders' words. It wasn't just the whispers in his dreams. It was something far older. Something that had been buried for centuries—and now it was stirring, just beneath the surface.
He could feel it, a presence that reached out through his veins, curling like smoke in his thoughts. And it wasn't from the outside world.
As he made his way to the training courtyard, he noticed the change in the air. The wind had shifted. It was no longer the gentle breeze he was used to, but a sharp, biting gust that stung the skin. Ash paused, squinting against the strange energy that pulsed through the air. It felt like the very atmosphere was alive with something ancient.
Near the courtyard, Lian Yu stood beneath the plum tree, her face cast in the glow of the setting sun. She looked up when she noticed him approaching, but her expression was unreadable. She had been distant lately, ever since the night of the whisper.
"You've been gone for a while," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"I needed time," Ash replied, his voice distant. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place.
Lian Yu's gaze turned toward the horizon, her eyes narrowing as she studied the sky. "It's not just you, Ash," she murmured. "There's something wrong with the air. I can feel it, too."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Lian Yu didn't answer right away. Instead, she took a step back, her gaze shifting to the distant mountains. "The sect has been quiet lately. Too quiet. Have you noticed? The formation hasn't reacted to anything in over five hundred years. And yet, the moment you arrived…"
Ash turned to face her fully. "What are you suggesting?"
"I'm saying that whatever it is that's calling you—it's also calling the elders," she replied, her voice tinged with concern. "They're worried. And we both know why."
Ash shook his head. "I don't know why. But I intend to find out."
---
Far Beyond the Sect, Beneath the Sea…
The ruins of a once-great palace lay submerged beneath the waves, the stone walls cracked and crumbled by the passage of time. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of the sea rushing against the remnants of the ancient structure.
Inside the depths, an altar stood untouched. The air was thick with the scent of salt and decay, but at the altar, something stirred.
A shadow shifted across the water, its form indistinct, its edges blurred. It was as though the sea itself held a breath it had not exhaled in centuries. The figure moved slowly, deliberately, as if to avoid disturbing the deep slumber that had held it captive.
From the darkness, a voice—low, raspy—whispered through the still waters.
> "It begins again…"
A shadowy figure, long forgotten by time, stepped forward, its gaze fixed on the surface. The seal that had bound it for so long was finally weakening.
And as the seal broke, so too would the world.
---