Blue fire cascaded across the cavern in slow motion, each flickering tongue freezing mid-air like crystallized lightning. Ye Qingxiao's star-metal blade vibrated at a frequency that made his teeth ache, its seven glowing pits now projecting a constellation onto the dragon skeleton's skull. The bronze fragment—fully embedded in the ancient bone—hummed a note that resonated in his marrow.
A'Qing's hands were fused to the skeleton's brow, her silver eyes streaming liquid metal that snaked down the dragon's nasal ridge. "It's working," she gasped, though her lips didn't move—the words emerged from the cavern walls themselves. "The prison remembers its purpose."
The obsidian greatsword and its shadow-serpent minions hung suspended in their deadly dive, caught in the same temporal distortion. Ye Qingxiao tried to step forward, but his body refused to obey. The Taiyi Sword Treasury remained ominously silent in his mind, its usual flood of knowledge reduced to a single pulsing warning:
Symbiosis InitiatedDo Not Resist
Then the dragon skeleton blinked.
Twin pools of blue fire focused on Ye Qingxiao with terrifying sentience. The massive jaws creaked open, releasing not a roar, but a conversation—dozens of overlapping voices speaking in dialects spanning millennia:
"Third Warden of Qin reports seal integrity at seventy percent—""The Ming Dynasty sacrifices are insufficient! Find more sword cultivators—""Why does the child weep? The Abyss cares not for—"
The cacophony coalesced into one clear sentence spoken in the dragon's true voice—a sound like glaciers calving:
"WHO BEARS THE SEVENTH KEY?"
The star-metal sword tore free from Ye Qingxiao's grip and shot toward the skeleton, embedding itself between the dragon's eyes where the bronze fragment had lodged. A shockwave of energy sent him skidding backward across the cavern floor just as time resumed its flow.
Chaos erupted.
The obsidian greatsword completed its strike, shearing off one of the dragon's skeletal wings in an explosion of bronze shrapnel. Hollow soldiers swarmed like locusts, their shadow-serpent cores elongating into barbed whips. Yet the dragon skeleton moved with unexpected grace—its remaining wing swept down, catching A'Qing mid-fall and depositing her safely behind the shelter of its ribs.
Ye Qingxiao rolled to his feet, instinctively reaching for a weapon that was no longer there. His fingers closed around a broken chain link instead—one bearing Senior Brother Zhou Yan's name. The metal burned with residual sword intent, its edges sharp enough to draw blood.
A'Qing's voice echoed inside his skull, now layered with the dragon's timbre: "The keys are seven, the wardens three, and the sacrifice must be—"
Her message cut off as the obsidian sword's serpent guards constricted around the dragon's spinal column. The hollow soldiers took advantage, swarming over the skeleton like ants on carrion. One broke away, its shadowy core morphing into a perfect replica of Magistrate Liu's face.
"Poor little sword rat," it sneered in the dead magistrate's voice. "Did you think playing with ancient toys made you a hero?"
Ye Qingxiao lunged, chain link flashing. The replica dissolved into smoke, reforming behind him with a chuckle. "The Azure Mist Sect died screaming. Would you like to hear how your precious Zhou Yan begged?"
Every muscle in Ye Qingxiao's body locked. The Taiyi Sword Treasury remained stubbornly silent, but he didn't need its guidance to recognize this taunt for what it was—a distraction.
Above the fray, the obsidian sword was positioning itself for a killing thrust aimed at the star-metal blade lodged in the dragon's skull.
A'Qing screamed a warning—or maybe it was the dragon—the sound shattered nearby stalactites. Ye Qingxiao pivoted, hurling the chain link with all his strength. It struck true, shearing off one of the obsidian sword's serpent guards. The weapon shuddered mid-air, giving the dragon skeleton an opening to clamp its jaws around the black blade.
A sound like a million mirrors breaking filled the cavern as the obsidian sword cracked down its center. The hollow soldiers froze mid-attack, their shadowy cores flickering erratically.
Then the star-metal sword pulsed.
Seven beams of light shot from its pitted surface, each striking a different section of the dragon skeleton. Where the light touched, bronze plating sloughed away to reveal living scales underneath. The transformation spread rapidly—fossilized wings became membranous and whole, the skeletal tail grew whip-like and agile, until at last the great skull shed its metallic casing to reveal a face of terrifying beauty: sleek azure scales, whiskers like molten silver, and eyes that held entire galaxies within their depths.
The Taiyi Sword Treasury rebooted in Ye Qingxiao's mind with explosive force:
Symbiosis CompleteFifth Realm Achieved: Dragon-Sword Symbiosis
The reborn Xuanlong Zhenjian shook itself like a dog after a bath, sending the remaining hollow soldiers flying. Its voice, when it spoke, resonated with A'Qing's lighter tones woven through the dragon's thunder:
"The Seventh Key is awakened. Let the Abyss tremble."
With a snap of its tail, the dragon severed all seven chains binding the great sword. The cavern trembled as names bled from the broken links—Zhou Yan's shining brightest before winking out.
The obsidian sword's remaining serpent guard thrashed wildly. "You fool! Without the anchors, the seal will—"
The dragon inhaled sharply. When it exhaled, a stream of blue fire engulfed the obsidian blade, reducing it to slag in seconds. The hollow soldiers shrieked as their shadow cores ignited like paper lanterns.
Silence fell.
Then the ceiling collapsed.
Elsewhere: The Seventh Heavenly Demon Smithy
The anvil screamed when the hammer fell.
Seven smiths in burning aprons staggered back as their masterwork—a sword forged from the essence of a dying star—shattered into fragments. The lead smith howled, clutching his suddenly empty hands. "The Progenitor Blade! It's gone!"
Deep within the smithy's heart, in a chamber lined with the skulls of failed apprentices, a clay tablet inscribed with Magistrate Liu's name cracked down the center. The black ooze seeping from the fracture formed words before evaporating:
Seventh Key ActivatedContainment Breach Imminent
A child's laughter echoed through the suddenly silent forges.
Present: The Shattered Cavern
Ye Qingxiao coughed up mouthfuls of dust as he dug himself out of the rubble. The dragon's transformation had triggered a cave-in, burying everything under tons of rock. Moonlight streamed through the new opening above—they were somehow back near the surface, though the landscape looked utterly changed.
A'Qing lay nearby, her silver eyes dimmed to faint glimmers. The dragon—now the size of a large horse—coiled protectively around her, licking her burns with a tongue like blue flame.
"It worked," she whispered when she saw Ye Qingxiao. "The prison is open."
He knelt beside her, noting how her veins now pulsed with the same blue as the dragon's fire. "At what cost?"
The Xuanlong Zhenjian answered by exhaling over the star-metal sword—now shrunk to dagger size—lying between them. The blade's seven pits glowed steadily, forming a miniature constellation in the dirt:
北斗
The Big Dipper.
A'Qing traced the characters with a glowing fingertip. "The other six keys are still out there. And the wardens who guard them." She met Ye Qingxiao's gaze. "This was never about sealing the dragon. It was about preparing the sword."
The Taiyi Sword Treasury finally provided clarity:
Primary Objective UpdatedReclaim the Seven KeysReunite the WardensForge the Sword That Will Cut the Abyss
Ye Qingxiao picked up the star-metal dagger. It warmed instantly to his touch, its glow synchronizing with his pulse. In the distance, the first hints of dawn painted the ruins of Azure Mist Sect in hues of blood and gold.
The dragon stretched its wings, scattering blue embers. "Where first, Swordbearer?"
Ye Qingxiao sheathed the dagger at his belt. "To find why my sect had to die for this war."
As they walked toward the rising sun, the rubble behind them shifted. A single hollow soldier—missing its lower half—dragged itself from the debris, its shadow core whispering the same phrase over and over:
"The cradle is broken. The cradle is broken. The cradle is—"
Then it too crumbled to dust.