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Chapter 131 - Chapter 131: Echoes Beneath the Phoenix Sky

The Hollow Empire had changed.

Though its imperial towers still pierced the heavens, shadows crawled beneath their golden spires. News of the Abyss's disturbance hadn't reached the surface, not yet—but the sky felt it. Storms formed without clouds. Birds circled erratically, never landing. Cultivators found their qi flowing against their will, guided by unseen threads.

In the heart of the capital, within the Empress's closed quarters, Zhao Ying sat alone.

The ritual she had begun beneath the Imperial Altar had failed—but not in the way she feared. Instead of unleashing catastrophe, it had revealed something... forgotten. Someone.

She stared at her reflection in the polished obsidian mirror. Behind her own eyes, something stirred. Not madness. Not possession.

But memory.

"Do you remember him?"

A voice echoed inside her mind—soft, male, and burdened with grief.

"I… don't," she whispered aloud.

And yet she saw fragments. A ruined palace. A blood-soaked battlefield. A man standing atop the corpses of gods, laughing as the world burned.

The Demon Sovereign.

But not as an enemy.

As someone she once followed.

The chamber door opened. Zhao Wenxiu entered, robes tattered from his return journey, eyes hollow.

"He's alive," he said simply.

Zhao Ying turned slowly. "You saw him?"

Wenxiu nodded. "In the Abyss. He didn't kill me. He… looked through me."

She studied him. "And did you remember?"

"…No. But I felt it."

Zhao Ying walked to the window, where a phoenix-shaped lantern flickered, casting gold-red light on her silk sleeves.

"He's changing the world again," she murmured. "Piece by piece."

Wenxiu frowned. "Should we warn the Empire?"

"The Empire no longer holds the heavens' favor," Zhao Ying said. "No one does. The age of contracts, of divine order—it's unraveling."

Below the palace, thousands gathered at the Spirit Tower. A tournament was being hosted to find the next generation of imperial disciples. It was meant to be symbolic—unity in chaos. But Zhao Ying saw it clearly now.

They were sharpening swords for a war they could not understand.

"Let them play their games," she said. "Liu Shen won't come here for politics."

"Then what will he come for?" Wenxiu asked.

Zhao Ying didn't answer. She looked south—toward the war-torn ruins bordering the Empire and the ancient lands once ruled by forgotten clans.

Where the Phoenix Sky Tree still burned, eternally alight.

Where the Third Beacon was once buried.

Outside the palace, a raven landed on the tower's edge. Its feathers shimmered with abyssal darkness, eyes glinting with intelligence. It cawed once before taking flight.

Far from the capital, hidden in the shadows of the world, Liu Shen watched the skies shift.

The stars aligned differently now—tilted as if bowing toward a rising force.

Lei Qing stood beside him, hand on his sword. "Do we head to the Empire next?"

"No," Liu Shen replied. "We head to the Phoenix Grave."

Yu Meixing emerged from behind them, her breath steady, but her aura sharpened like a blade drawn too many times.

"There's someone already waiting there," she said. "Their soul called out to me."

Liu Shen nodded. "Then it's time."

He raised his hand, and the air rippled as a tear in space opened—formed not by a spell, but by sheer will.

The Beacon's path had been revealed.

And the Dreamless stirred.

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