Deep within the secret realm, in a ruined temple where time itself had been forgotten, a voice erupted in fury.
"The array was broken!?"
The words did not simply echo—they slithered through the air, twisting unnaturally as if alive. The temple walls trembled, the moss-covered stones quivering beneath an unseen force. The air grew heavy, suffocating, as if the very realm itself had been tainted by the sheer malice in the voice.
"Who did it!?"
A wave of cold, deathly energy surged outward, distorting the flickering blue ghostly flames that hovered in the chamber. The ancient symbols etched into the temple's pillars shuddered, their protective glow dimming under the pressure. The sheer weight of the voice carried the authority of something not quite human, something that had long since abandoned mortal limitations.
The air hissed as the presence calmed, though its malice did not fade.
"You're lucky I have too many things on my plate right now," the voice muttered, venomous yet restrained. "But don't get ahead of yourself. Even if you've destroyed all my arrays, you still won't get it—not until it blooms."
A slow, grating chuckle followed, like the scraping of bones against stone.
"By then, I will have already finished dealing with these nuisances. The ones who think they can waltz into my domain and claim my treasures as their own."
The temple pulsed again, a ripple of ghostly energy flowing outward. The flickering spirits around the chamber writhed, their formless bodies twisting in agony at the sheer force of their master's power.
Yet beneath the malice, a note of unease lurked.
"That brat… He wiped out ten rank 1 ghosts alone. Passed every trap I set."
The voice paused.
Then a sneer.
"But that doesn't mean I'm some pushover. Just you wait."
The presence seeped into the temple walls, the chill of its aura lingering like a curse.
…
Not far from the temple, atop a craggy outcrop, Yanwei crouched in the shadows. Their gaze was locked on the faint glow nestled between twisted roots in the valley below—a Moonshade Lotus.
Even from this distance, its soft, silver luminescence pulsed faintly, like the slow, rhythmic breath of a slumbering beast.
Yanwei's lips curled into a smirk.
So, it really is a Moonshade Lotus.
This was no ordinary flower. A rare treasure formed from condensed ghostly energy, capable of bestowing an immense surge in power upon its user—especially those aligned with spectral arts. If the ghost that ruled this region had his eyes on it, then it could mean only one thing.
He's preparing to break through to rank 2.
A breeze swept through the canyon, stirring the loose strands of Yanwei's hair. The chill of the secret realm bit at their skin,