The storm hit on the third day.
Li Shenhai climbed through bitter wind, the trees thinning to twisted roots clinging to bare stone. The path seemed to move beneath his feet—led not by memory, but by instinct. The Crimson Soul whispered, not in words, but emotions—rage, sorrow, hunger.
Yun'er slipped behind, slowed by the cold, but refused to leave.
Halfway up, the mountain opened.
A narrow crevice, hidden behind a frozen waterfall, pulsed with red mist. Shenhai felt it before he saw it. A sigil flared on his chest—the mark of the Crimson Soul reacting to something ancient inside.
"Stay here," he told Yun'er.
She hesitated—then handed him her lantern and nodded.
He entered the crevice alone.
Inside: silence, then laughter.
A voice echoed in the dark—dry and venomous.
"He sends another child? Another sword to break?"
Shenhai gripped his father's blade. "Who are you?"
The shadows answered by taking shape—an illusion formed from memory, smoke, and soul-essence: a boy his age, identical in every way. Same face. Same eyes. But in those eyes… was bloodlust.
"I am what you could become."
"Or what I refuse to be."
They clashed—sword against shadow-sword. Each strike hurt not the body, but the spirit. Each movement pulled more power from Shenhai's core. As their blades locked, the shadow leaned in.
"She's waiting. The Bloodmother watches you. Bleed for her, and she will grant you everything."
Shenhai roared—and his soul ignited.
The shadow shattered in a wave of crimson flame.
When he emerged from the crevice, the sigil on his chest had changed—a second line appeared beneath the first, like a tally mark. Yun'er stared, eyes wide.
"One trial passed," Shenhai whispered. "How many more?"
Elsewhere, the Guardian stood before the Shrine, kneeling in a circle of salt and blood. The shrine was not a temple—it was a prison.
His name was once Mo Xuantai, and five hundred years ago, he bore the Crimson Soul.
He had destroyed kingdoms, burned a continent in the name of justice… until the soul turned on him.
Bound by the Five Grandmasters, he was cursed to remain at the peak, half-dead, never free.
"Another child comes, as I once did. I will not allow the cycle to repeat. The soul must end with him."
Behind him, the winds howled—and the shrine pulsed.
Back at the Azure Cloud Sect, a storm of a different kind brewed.
Elder Huang stood before the Grand Council. "Li Shenhai must be hunted. The Crimson Soul will bring ruin. We must act now."
Silence.
Then, Elder Lei stepped forward.
"No. He must be protected."
Gasps filled the hall.
"You would betray the Council for a boy?"
"No. I would defy fear for a future."
That night, Lei sent a shadow message to Wu Feiyan.
"If Shenhai reaches the summit, he will face death. I have done all I can. The rest is up to him… and to you."