The victory at the Kalon Steppes shook the world.
Every empire, sect, and hidden clan now whispered one name: Yun Jian, the Shadow Sovereign—the man who had brought down the Seven Tyrants, broken the celestial sigil, and walked away unscathed.
But Yun Jian did not bask in glory.
He knew the true war still loomed, far beyond mortal courts and worldly thrones.
There were whispers in his dreams now—ancient echoes calling from beneath the foundation of reality itself. A place older than the gods, older than the heavens.
The Labyrinth of Forgotten Souls.
A realm not of the living or dead, but of the abandoned—those erased from history, erased even from memory. Cultivators whose power had been too great, too dangerous, too divine.
And in the center of that infinite maze: the Eclipse Core, a seed of godly shadow said to hold the final truth of the Shadow Arts.
To master his power—to truly become the Shadow Sovereign—Yun Jian had to enter it.
And survive.
The gateway lay in a forgotten ruin known only as Nameless Grave.
Nestled within the black cliffs of the Deadshade Ravine, this ruin pulsed with unnatural quiet. No birds sang. No beasts prowled. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Yun Jian stood at the edge, Ghostfang at his side, Mei Lin and the rest of his companions several steps behind.
"You're going alone, aren't you?" Mei Lin asked softly.
"I must," Yun Jian replied. "The Labyrinth doesn't allow anyone but those it chooses. And it has chosen me."
Ghostfang growled in protest, but Yun Jian laid a hand on his fur.
"If I don't return in seven days… burn this place. Don't let it open again."
Without another word, he stepped into the ruined gate—where a vast mirror of polished obsidian stood vertically in midair.
As his foot crossed the threshold, his body was devoured by shadow.
The Labyrinth was not a place.
It was a memory. A dream. A prison built of time and tears.
Yun Jian landed on solid ground—if it could be called that. The sky was an endless dome of crimson mist. The ground beneath his feet twisted and rippled like obsidian glass, yet his footsteps left no mark.
Walls rose in every direction. Black. Shifting. Towering.
The Labyrinth stretched endlessly, alive and everchanging.
But the moment Yun Jian took a step, the walls spoke.
"You seek power. You seek the Eclipse Core. But first… you must remember what the world forgot."
He was not given a chance to reply.
From the wall stepped a figure—familiar and yet alien.
A younger version of himself.
Yun Jian stared at the boy. He couldn't have been older than ten. Dirt on his cheeks. Tears in his eyes. Carrying the broken wooden sword his father had carved for him.
"What…?" Yun Jian whispered.
"Face your guilt," the Labyrinth intoned.
The Trial of the Child.
The boy charged with surprising speed, and Yun Jian barely blocked in time. The strikes were raw, desperate—not elegant, but honest.
"Why didn't you save them?!" the boy shouted, tears streaming down.
"Who?"
"Our village! Mother! Father! Why did you only unlock your power after it was too late?!"
Each strike carried the weight of buried shame.
Yun Jian gritted his teeth. "Because I was weak."
The boy struck harder. "You're still weak! You think killing tyrants makes up for it?"
"No," Yun Jian whispered. "Nothing will. But I can keep going. I can carry them with me."
The boy paused.
And nodded.
Then dissolved into smoke.
The walls shifted.
The Trial of the Friend.
A new corridor. This time, a girl waited—Li Qing, his childhood friend. The one who had tried to shield others during the beast raid, only to be slaughtered before his eyes.
"Yun… do you remember me?"
He stepped forward. "Always."
"Then why did you never come back? Not even to mourn me?"
Yun Jian bowed his head. "Because if I looked back, I feared I'd never walk forward again."
She smiled gently.
"Then walk forward now."
And she faded.
The Trial of the Mirror.
At the third turn, a mirror rose before him. In its reflection was not himself—but a version of him that had taken the throne after Kalon. That had become emperor of the known world. That had ruled with divine might.
A version that smiled with cold, empty eyes.
"Look what you could become," the Mirror Yun Jian said. "No more pain. No more uncertainty. Power absolute. A god in mortal form."
Yun Jian touched the mirror.
Then punched it—shattering it into shards.
"I don't need to be a god. I need to be enough."
He passed the trial.
The walls opened into a central chamber: an endless, starless dome.
At its center floated the Eclipse Core.
A black sphere glowing with negative light, as if sucking the stars themselves into its gravity.
But he wasn't alone.
Another figure awaited him.
Cloaked in pure shadow, its face obscured, only eyes visible—glowing red and silver.
"I am the Warden of the Eclipse," the figure said.
"You're the final test?"
The Warden nodded. "You wish to claim the Eclipse Core. Then you must defeat the one who mastered it long before you."
And then the Warden dropped the cloak.
Revealing Yun Jian himself—but older, darker, filled with divine arrogance.
Not a mirror.
Not a ghost.
A future.
The Final Trial: Sovereign vs. God-King
Blades clashed instantly.
Nightend met its twin—Nightfall, the future blade.
Each strike sent tremors through the labyrinth. The ground cracked. Walls screamed and reformed.
Future Yun Jian used powers that Yun had never imagined—creating armies from shadows, halting time in short bursts, even warping memories of the battlefield to confuse the present version.
But present Yun Jian had one advantage: resolve.
He fought not to dominate, but to protect.
And that gave him clarity.
As Future Yun Jian lifted Nightfall for the final strike, Present Yun Jian allowed himself to be pierced—
—only to grab his future self's wrist and pull him close.
"I am not you."
Then plunged Nightend into his own shadow—into his heart.
A scream shattered the dome.
The future dissolved.
The Eclipse Core floated down… and entered his chest.
And the Labyrinth collapsed.
When Yun Jian awoke, he was back outside the ruins.
Ghostfang and Mei Lin rushed to his side.
"You're—" she began.
"I'm whole now," he said, standing slowly.
His eyes glowed faintly—not with power, but with understanding.
The Labyrinth had not given him new powers.
It had reminded him who he was.
The world had changed.
And the true enemy… the Eclipse God, was watching now.