“The reason’s simple. That palace smells tied to the Origin Realm—go a little deeper, and a wisp of the Primordial Source brushes your skin like dawn mist. It drew crowds at first, a tide rushing at a cliff. No one knew if an Origin Realm being still slept inside, but things bound to them surely lay buried like bones under sand. So people kept pushing in. However—”
Heartvoice paused, sipped her black tea, and went on, voice steady as still water. “No one expected this: an undead guards the depths, like a cold candle that never dies.”
“Undead? Isn’t that easy to drive off?” Lingxiao tilted her head, doubt flickering like a moth by a lamp.
“Different era, different beast,” Celia Maya said, calm as winter stone. “In ancient times, the undead were a fearsome cohort. Most were Law Realm experts at the end of their span. With no hope of breaking through, they shed their flesh and became undead to keep breathing, like a fire sealed in iron.”
“You can stretch life like that?” A chill slid down my back like meltwater. “Then why rarely do it now?”
“Because the price cuts like rust,” she said. “Over time, your mind erodes, your feelings fade like ink in rain. Worse, some get gnawed by malice and fall, turning into slaughter machines with Law Realm power, a storm that only kills. History’s had no shortage of wars sparked by them, so the method went from hot to forbidden. And necromancers? Their training and backlash echo this path, so they turned into a profession that can’t bear the sun. Unless driven into a corner, few choose to live forever in shadow.”
Heartvoice added more on necromancers, and the picture clicked. No wonder they’re treated like rats scurrying across a street, pelted by every stone.
“So… that undead in the palace’s depths is one of those ancient, Law Realm-class undead?” I asked, the words heavy as wet cloth.
“Right,” Heartvoice said, helplessness like frost at her eyes. “Mid-tier Law Realm. Mind gone, only instinct left. It attacks any intruder, like a wolf at a threshold. By now, tens of thousands have died to its hands.”
“If they know it’s a Law Realm undead, why keep throwing lives like straw into a furnace?” Lixue frowned, a crease like a knife mark.
I agreed. See a Law Realm undead on guard and you retreat; that’s the road as clear as a river.
“Too many bet on luck,” Celia Maya answered, voice cool as moonlight. “Some think it’s ancient and worn down by time, like a blade dulled by sand. Others try to slip in while someone else tangles with it, like fish darting past a net. Every single one who reached the depths died. No exceptions.”
She paused, something brightening like a spark. “It started with a rumor. The deepest chamber hides a method to break into the Law Realm. So all those stuck at the peak marched to die.”
“Maybe. What I heard is the depths hold ancient artifacts, bright as stars under silt,” Heartvoice said. “Either way, the palace is stuffed with treasures. I plan to go with Celia Maya, and I’ll take you along, Emperor. Perfect time to test your two years of training, like drawing a sword after long oiling.”
My gut tightened like a knot. We’ve grown a lot, but fighting a Law Realm undead is still a cliff beyond reach.
Heartvoice caught my worry and smiled, soft as spring wind. “Relax. You won’t face that undead. And you don’t just stroll to the depths. Before that, there’s a trial maze, a winding river before the cataract. Its difficulty fits your current strength. Pass it, and you’ll get decent rewards. Not that rewards mean much to you, right?”
“That’s true,” I said, tension easing like steam. “So we only need to clear the trial maze?”
“Exactly. While you’re in there, keep your eyes wide for anything off, like a reed bending the wrong way in a breeze. The palace oozes something eerie. It gives me a bad feeling, thunder behind the hills. We have to check.”
Her face hardened, a blade in its sheath, and even Celia Maya grew solemn as stone. This wasn’t small.
More pressing, Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream haven’t sent a word in over a year. That silence is a cold well, no echo.
“Got it. When do we leave?” Even Lingxiao dropped her playfulness, like a bell gone still.
“No rush,” Heartvoice said after a moment, thoughts drifting like clouds. “We need full prep. Four days from now. I also have to talk with Saint Cole.”
“What should we do these next few days?” My heart couldn’t sit still, a sparrow beating at the cage.
“You just ended seclusion,” Heartvoice said. “Rest. Qianji and Littlesky returned to the Mizumi Clan a few days ago. Why don’t you go home too, like rain returning to the sea?”
“Yeah… you’re right. It’s been a while,” I murmured. Memories rose like lanterns. I really miss Littlesky and Qianji Sister.
“Settled, then,” Heartvoice said. “Emperor, go home and get ready. On the morning of the fourth day, Celia Maya and I will come for you.”
“No problem!”
We traded a glance and answered together, voices falling in step like marching feet. Right then, the aroma of food drifted in, warm as a hearth. A maid appeared with lunch, dishes gleaming like jewels.
“It’s about lunchtime anyway,” Heartvoice said. “Fill your belly first; talk after.”
When the maid lined the table with dishes, Heartvoice shaped a globe of water and rinsed her hands crystal clean, like a spring over smooth stones.
“Works for me. We’ve got time,” Lingsaki nodded, a leaf settling.
We dropped the chatter and started eating. The food was rich, but worry lingered like a shadow behind a screen. Mostly, it was the Worldgate. Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream have stayed silent too long; it gnaws like wind through a cracked door.
For now, thinking more is useless. That’s a matter only the Origin Realm can shoulder, a mountain beyond our path. All we can do is wait, quiet as snow, for them to bring back good news.
There’s a saying: when the boat reaches the bridge, it goes straight—things sort themselves out like a river finding its bed. It should be like that… I hope it will be.
