The summit grounds shimmered with ceremonial calm—but beneath it, rage pulsed.
Mirrored tiles reflected false sunlight. Ridges held symbols glowing with faint light, etched deep by imperial sealmaster hands. Everything looked holy. Everything smelled like deception.
Lu Xuan stood still on the southern edge, his spiritual symbol hovering faintly behind him.
He felt it immediately.
Pressure—not qi, but intention, buried into the stone.
The moment his foot crossed the central ring, the ground reacted. Faint symbols flickered beneath the surface, stitching light patterns in the shape of soul folds.
"A seal matrix," he muttered.
"Hidden inside ceremonial stone?"
He looked toward the imperial podium.
Emperor Zhao Rui stood tall, robes heavy with obsidian threads, smile carved perfectly into diplomacy.
"Welcome to the summit," Zhao said.
"Let us reflect—before we rewrite."
Su Xue entered next—without bowing.
Her robes weren't layered. Her seal glowed openly across her arm. Behind her came five Celestial Dawn elders, faces sharp and eyes already suspicious. Bai Yujing followed, scroll blade at her waist, steps slow, not ceremonial.
She scanned the mirror ring once—then twice.
"Something's wrong," Bai said quietly.
Su Xue nodded.
"He didn't invite us to speak."
"He invited us to step into something."
Zhao Rui raised one hand.
"To remember together, we must become silent."
Beneath his feet, a spiritual relay activated.
The ground pulsed—not with force, but with erasure.
It began instantly.
One elder's aura flickered. He opened his mouth—but no sound came.
Not scream.
Not breath.
Disappearance.
Another clutched his chest, falling as light pulled away from his eyes. His name fractured midair.
Bai Yujing reacted first.
She raised her scroll blade, activating three ancient protective symbols at once—layers of memory, binding, and deflection.
But the spiritual trap Zhao Rui embedded wasn't meant to break qi.
It was designed to unravel identity.
The mirror ring lit crimson beneath them, spiral-shaped memories rising. The soul-fold trap had begun.
"He's erasing our record," Bai said.
"Not killing us—removing us."
Su Xue threw her seal upward, shattering the air around her elders, catching two before their memory collapsed.
But one faltered.
Too slow.
The seal missed.
"This isn't sealing," Su Xue whispered.
"This is forgetting."
Bai turned toward Zhao Rui.
"You tampered with spiritual law."
Zhao didn't flinch.
"History was too generous to your sect.
It ends now."
He pressed his hand to the imperial glyph.
The symbol activated in full.
A soul collapse wave surged toward Su Xue—
And Bai Yujing stepped in front.
Her scroll glowed like starlight.
She lifted it calmly.
"I am not myth," she said.
"But I remember how myths were forged."
The soul wave struck.
Her blade caught it—bent it—but couldn't hold.
Light tore into her shoulders. Her qi recoiled. Her spiritual symbol cracked mid-pattern.
Su Xue tried to pull her back—but Bai stayed.
"If you fall now," she said, voice tightening,
"then he wins your silence before you speak."
Another wave hit—stronger.
It pierced the scroll.
The memory trap flared.
Su Xue screamed—
And Bai shattered.
Not burned.
Not torn.
Just… gone.
A curl of golden light twisted upward, her spiritual symbol breaking quietly, its fragments floating to Lu Xuan and Su Xue like dust.
The silence afterward was not calm.
It was grief painted over fear.
Su Xue dropped to her knees, seal fading in her grip. The remaining elders formed a spirit barrier, barely holding as the mirror ring groaned.
"She blocked the entire collapse…" one whispered.
"She rerouted it through her soul threads…"
Lu Xuan didn't move.
The spiritual symbol behind him flared once—then faded again.
Zhao Rui raised his hand once more.
"Her sacrifice changes nothing."
Lu Xuan looked up.
His voice was quiet.
"No. It changes you."
Zhao's smile faltered slightly.
"You speak as a myth."
"Then listen as one," Lu Xuan said.
He stepped forward.
Every mirrored tile beneath him bent—not in pain, but in recognition.
Su Xue stood shakily.
Her eyes didn't meet Lu Xuan's. They stayed fixed on Bai's last steps—the way she chose silence to preserve sound.
She felt it now.
Her seal wouldn't suppress Lu Xuan anymore.
The spiritual symbols refused it.
He wasn't being protected.
He was being remembered.
"She died saving us," Su Xue whispered.
"But what if you weren't meant to be saved anymore?"
Lu Xuan didn't reply.
His aura felt cold. Heavy. Not in anger.
In weight.
"I never asked her to stand in front of you," he said.
"But I will never forget that she did."
Su Xue stepped closer.
"Will you forget the seal I carry too?
Will you walk past me like you walked past her?"
"Not yet," Lu Xuan said softly.
"But soon."
In the vault far below, the soul relay snapped.
Emperor Zhao Rui felt it immediately.
One of his ancestors—Zhao Tianyan—collapsed mid-chant.
The trap had reflected.
Not through force.
Through sacrifice.
A memory echo tied to Bai's scroll had rebounded—not to kill—
But to consume the symbol that authored it.
Zhao's hands trembled.
The mirror cracked.
His lineage anchor flickered.
"She fractured the soul seal…" he whispered.
"She reached back."
He turned toward the crownless monks.
"She gave the myth its echo."
The trap was broken.
But the war…
was not.