The wind screamed like a dying beast across the peaks of Mount Tianqing. Snow spiraled in violent flurries around five black-roofed temples that clung to the edges of the sacred cliffs. Here, beyond the grasp of mortals, stood the ancient Hall of Harmony, where only the most sacred councils were held.
Tonight, after more than a century of silence, the five great sects of the sky had convened.
Inside the round ceremonial chamber—walls carved from obsidian and bone ash—the air trembled with suppressed power. Lanterns flickered with spirit flame, glowing pale blue as if mourning what was to come.
At the circular table sat the Five Elders, one from each sect, silent as the storm.
Elder Lin of Azure Petal Sect, her long silver hair braided with spirit silk, broke the stillness. "We must acknowledge it now. My disciples witnessed unnatural fire near the Southern Ridge. Flames that screamed. Spirits that defied the Heavenly Cycle."
Her voice trembled—not from age, but from memory.
Elder Ruan of the Bronze Koi Sect, a barrel-chested man with burn scars across his arms, snorted. "Our crypts have been disturbed. Seventeen cultivator corpses missing. Vanished without sign of theft. Not even their bones remain."
Elder Fan of the Crimson Sword Sect, narrow-eyed and always sharpening a spectral blade, tapped his finger on the table. "The sky is wrong. The stars no longer align with the sacred charts. Blood crows circle during daylight."
"And what of your own disciples, Fan?" Elder Lin asked. "One was found half-burned, muttering about 'the scripture that eats the soul.'"
Fan did not flinch. "He died fighting something we couldn't see. His last breath was spent whispering a name—'Marrow Root.'"
The name chilled the room.
Elder Jinhai of Cloud Serpent Sect, whose white robes swirled as if caught in unseen wind, stood and moved to the round skylight above them. Snow swirled through the opening. He closed his eyes.
"I have seen it, too. In my meditations. A spiral of bone beneath a crimson moon."
His voice was barely audible over the wind.
"The Bone Scripture."
The words landed like a curse.
Elder Lin stood, face pale. "That… that cannot be. It was sealed in the Seventh Era. The ritual was incomplete. Its price too high."
Elder Gu, the blind master of the Hollow Wind Sect, turned his head toward the sound. His eyes were milky white, but red tears trickled from their corners. "You are wrong, Lin. It was never sealed. Only delayed."
A beat of silence.
Then Gu continued, "I was there… when the first child was taken."
The other elders looked toward him.
"You were… alive then?" Ruan asked, incredulous.
Gu gave a bitter smile. "Not alive. But not quite dead either."
He raised a hand and traced a symbol in the air—five lines spiraling into a broken circle. The air around it hissed, and the spirit flames recoiled.
Elder Fan scowled. "That mark... You dare draw that here?"
"It is coming back whether we draw it or not," Gu said. "And we are blind if we pretend otherwise."
Lin's voice cracked. "The Bone Scripture required blood. Not just mortal sacrifice. Innocent blood."
"And that," Gu replied softly, "is why it was never truly destroyed."
---
At that moment, a shadow moved beyond the great doors of the hall.
They flew open with a thunderous crash.
A young disciple stumbled in, face windburned, robes soaked in snow. He collapsed to his knees before the elders.
"Forgive me, revered ones," he gasped. "The sky—it's… it's changing—"
"Speak," Jinhai said, stepping forward.
The disciple raised a shaking hand. "Over the northern valley… in the sky… I saw it. A formation—lines of light—like bones."
Without a word, the elders stood and rushed outside.
The snow whipped against them, biting through even their spiritual shields. But none of them cared.
For above them, through the storm, a massive pattern pulsed across the sky—bone-colored light, forming fractals, spirals, and intersecting lines. An array, vast and ancient.
Gu was the first to speak, voice barely a whisper. "That… is the Bone Formation."
Fan stepped forward. "You said the scripture was delayed. Not sealed. Then this... is the unsealing."
Jinhai's expression darkened. "We must act."
---
They returned inside.
An ancient spirit map was summoned onto the table—a circle of dragon-hide inked with runes that shimmered as each elder placed their palm on the surface.
"Search," Lin commanded. "Trace every movement of death energy within the last moon cycle."
The map responded—showing flickers of red across several regions.
Then it pulsed, and a cluster of black appeared in the Southern Region.
"Ravenmoor," Fan muttered. "A forgotten village. No sect presence."
Gu closed his eyes. "But it is not the village that matters. Beneath it lies one of the Veins of Bone."
Lin's eyes widened. "You mean…"
"Yes," Gu said. "One of the scripture's roots. Buried long ago. Hidden beneath blood and stone."
Jinhai narrowed his gaze. "And now… someone has awakened it."
---
At that moment, the spirit map flashed again.
This time, it revealed another disturbance—deep in the Northern Range.
Ruan cursed. "That's near the Bone Chalice ruins."
Lin frowned. "But those chambers were collapsed."
"Apparently not enough."
Fan stood, pushing the map away. "If the scripture is returning, we must choose—either we bind it again… or destroy the host."
Jinhai's voice cut through the air. "We don't know who the host is."
Gu murmured, "We will. Soon."
---
Later that night, Gu sat alone in the meditation alcove.
His breath slowed. The wind outside had calmed, but the storm in his memory raged on.
He closed his eyes.
And remembered.
The screams of children in stone halls. Elders chanting around a bone altar. The smell of marrow boiled into ink.
And a voice.
> "Your blood is thin, Gu. But your soul… is suitable."
He had escaped that night. But the others hadn't.
He had kept the truth hidden for decades. Until now.
---
Back in the main hall, Lin looked at the stars again.
The formation was expanding.
She touched her talisman, whispering a protective charm.
And froze.
Her breath caught.
Because now… above the stars…
The formation had shifted.
And what it revealed made her fall to her knees.
Elder Ruan rushed to her side. "Lin?! What do you see?"
She pointed up, voice barely a whisper.
> "It's not just a formation. It's a summoning."
The others looked again.
The lines now curved into something more terrifying.
A skull—miles wide—etched in starlight.
Fan stepped back. "Heaven help us…"
Jinhai whispered, "We're too late."
But Gu only watched the sky with bleeding eyes.
> "No. We were always too late."