The winds howled in the Abyss—not with chaos, but with purpose.
As the oathstone sank into Liu Shen's palm, its divine pulse intertwined with his demonic core. The opposing forces—heavenly and infernal—did not clash. They converged, spinning into a new kind of force. One that bore neither the mark of the gods nor the demons. One that was purely his.
Kael watched warily. "You're changing."
Liu Shen opened his eyes—his irises now a ring of black and gold. "No. I'm remembering."
Above them, the skyless dark cracked. Faint threads of silver descended like falling threads from a loom, vanishing into the depths. The Abyss was not breaking.
It was preparing.
Suddenly, a voice—one that did not belong to either man—echoed across the shattered islets.
"You have claimed what was sealed. And now, others shall awaken…"
Kael stiffened. "That voice… it's not from here."
A ripple passed through the realm. One of the distant floating monoliths began to glow, runes flaring across its broken surface. From its center emerged a figure clad in tattered black, hood drawn low, staff in hand, and feet never touching the ground.
The Herald.
A being not of the Abyss, nor the Heavens, but of the Between.
Liu Shen's eyes narrowed. "You survived."
The Herald did not bow. "I was never truly alive."
He floated closer, and where his shadow passed, the air distorted, showing flashes of a forgotten battlefield—one where Liu Shen once fell.
"You broke the Warden's seal," the Herald said. "And in doing so, set the clock once more in motion. The Balance will tip, Sovereign. Have you prepared for what follows?"
"I'm not here for balance," Liu Shen replied. "I'm here to finish what the Heavens tried to bury."
The Herald turned his staff in his hand, drawing circles of light in the air.
Three symbols emerged—faded, ancient.
One was Liu Shen's crest from his past life.
The second was the insignia of the Abyssal Army.
The third was unknown.
"You seek to reclaim the Beacons," the Herald said. "But the Third is bound to a traitor's soul. One who still walks among mortals, wearing loyalty like a mask."
Kael stepped forward. "A traitor?"
But Liu Shen's voice was calm. "I know who."
The Herald tilted his head. "Then know this—he remembers more than he admits. And if he awakens before you reach him, the Third Beacon may be lost forever."
The air turned cold.
"The gates will open," the Herald whispered. "And the blood of kings will mark the path. Choose wisely, Sovereign. Not every battle can be won by power alone."
With that, the Herald began to fade. But before vanishing, he cast one final glance at Liu Shen.
"When the Third awakens, so too will the Dreamless."
The monolith dimmed, and the silence returned.
Kael exhaled slowly. "Who was he talking about?"
Liu Shen didn't answer immediately. He clenched his fist, feeling the oathstone pulse within his palm.
"…A general who should've died with the rest. One who knelt too early."
Kael's eyes widened. "You mean—"
"Yes," Liu Shen said. "Huang Ze."
He turned away, his cloak catching the phantom wind.
"The next Beacon lies beyond this realm. In the hands of one who remembers only betrayal."
And as Liu Shen vanished into the shadows, the Abyss behind him whispered—not with fear, but with hope.
Their Sovereign walked once more.
And war would follow.