The chamber emptied slowly, like a storm passing over distant mountains. Sect masters bowed stiffly before leading their disciples away, holy treasures dimmed. Imperial generals saluted with guarded respect, phoenix banners folding as soldiers marched out. Lady Vira offered a lingering smile and a promise—"Debts remembered, dragon"—before her demons melted into shadows. Grom thumped his chest one last time, beast tribes rumbling off with heavy steps.
Soon, only echoes remained—fading footsteps, settling dust, the faint drip of water far above.
Wei Chen let his fan close with a soft snap. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, but the shared flame still burned warm between them, steady and bright. Lin Xue leaned against his side, silver hair brushing his shoulder. Su Mei pressed to the other, her warmth a familiar anchor.
"It's quiet," Lin Xue said softly, voice wondering. No pain laced her words now—the curse truly gone, her frost qi flowing pure and strong.
Su Mei exhaled a tired laugh. "Too quiet. I almost miss the shouting."
Wei Chen pulled them closer, arms around both. "We earned this. Let's not waste it."
They moved away from the sealed coffin, its obsidian surface smooth again under layered wards. The air warmed as they climbed a side tunnel—older, less traveled, lined with faded murals of ancient cultivators battling nameless horrors.
Wei Chen's black sun brand pulsed faintly, a reminder that not everything had ended. "It's still there," he said, touching his chest. "Quiet, but listening."
Lin Xue's hand covered his. "We'll face it together. Like always."
Su Mei's fingers traced the brand's edge through his torn robes, teasing warmth sending a shiver through him. "Maybe it's scared now. Knows what our bond can do."
They found a small side chamber—once a meditation hall, cushions long rotted but the formation circle intact. Soft spirit light glowed from wall crystals, casting gentle gold.
Perfect for recovery.
They settled in the circle, knees touching, hands linked naturally. The shared flame ignited without effort—cycling slowly, healing strains from battle. Meridians mended, cores refined further. Lin Xue's frost wove cooler paths, easing Wei Chen's lingering overload heat. Su Mei's crimson threads sharpened edges, burning away fatigue.
Wei Chen felt the brand stir during the cycle—not in pain, but curiosity. Warm pulses answering their essence.
"It's changing," he murmured, eyes half-closed. "Not pulling. Almost… learning."
Lin Xue leaned closer, forehead resting against his. "Then we teach it. Show it belongs to us now."
Su Mei's lips brushed his ear, playful. "Plenty of ways to teach, dragon."
The cycle deepened. Warmth spread—not just qi, but closeness. Wei Chen turned to kiss Lin Xue first, slow and claiming, her cool breath mingling with his heat. She returned it fiercely, fingers threading his hair. Su Mei watched with a smirk, then claimed his mouth next when Lin Xue pulled back—demonic hunger tempered sweet.
Hands wandered—Lin Xue's palm over his heart, steadying the brand. Su Mei's grip on his thigh, teasing higher until he growled softly. Qi surged with each touch, shared flame flaring brighter, sealing small breakthroughs in quiet waves.
They broke apart breathing harder, eyes bright.
"Better," Wei Chen said, voice rough. "Stronger."
Lin Xue's cheeks flushed faint pink. "Much."
Su Mei stretched lazily. "We should explore more. Ruins this old hide secrets."
They rose together, moving deeper. Murals grew clearer—scenes of Nine-Suns cultivators battling door-like entities, brands glowing on their chests. One panel showed a branded man with multiple partners, essence weaving a sun that burned cold shadows away.
Wei Chen paused. "My physique… it's older than I thought."
Lin Xue studied the images. "And the brand—not curse. Key. Maybe."
Su Mei traced a faded figure resembling the Frost-Eater. "Trapped long ago by someone like you."
A hidden door clicked open under Wei Chen's touch—brand resonating. Beyond lay a small library—jade slips glowing softly on shelves.
They gathered the slips, settling again to read. Ancient records spoke of the black altar cycle—sealed and awakening every few millennia, drawn to overload physiques as keys.
One slip chilled them.
The brand binds both ways. Seal the eater fully, and the key becomes master—or door.
Wei Chen's mark warmed sharply.
Lin Xue gripped his hand. "We master it. No other choice."
Su Mei nodded. "Together."
But as they absorbed the knowledge, the brand pulsed once—stronger, directed.
Far below, deeper than the coffin, something else stirred. A second chamber. A second door.
And a new voice—not cold, but warm. Curious.
Calling his name softly.
Wei Chen stood abruptly. "There's more down there."
Lin Xue and Su Mei rose with him, ready.
The quiet had ended.
To be Continued
© Kishtika., 2026
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