The sky over Clearwater Sky Sect had not yet brightened. The mountain mists clung to the stones like ghostly veils, and the bells of morning had not rung.
But Lin Zian walked alone.
Each step echoed down the old path beneath the sect's northern cliff, where few ventured and fewer returned. Towering granite walls framed a crumbling stairway that led to the Sealed Repository — an archive not of glory, but of regret.
A hundred techniques were said to rest here, untouched for generations.
Each one bore the mark of failure.
Lin Zian stood before the stone gate carved into the cliff face, hands folded behind his back. Dust gathered on the runes etched into the archway above: "Those Who Enter Bear the Sin of Choice."
A warning. Not against danger — but against consequence.
He extended his hand, and golden light pulsed faintly from his fingers. The air trembled as the Vault of Heaven stirred to life.
> [Sealed Repository Detected]
[Restriction Grade: Internal Sect—Obsolete]
[Clearance Override: Accepted]
The ancient door rumbled open, disturbing cobwebs and stale air that smelled of soot, ash, and dried blood.
Inside, stone shelves stood like crumbling monuments. Scrolls wrapped in scorched cloth. Bamboo slips charred at the edges. Jade plaques dulled from spiritual corrosion.
Lin Zian's steps were slow, reverent.
He could hear it—the quiet breathing of failure. The remnants of cultivators who had dreamed too high, pushed too far, and fallen with no one left to remember their names.
> [Initiating Technique Pulse Scan...]
The Vault guided him toward a corner shelf, where a scroll bound in black thread pulsed with faint crimson light.
He reached for it.