As they pressed deeper into the surreal forest, the spirits began to grow quieter, their earlier playfulness ebbing away like a tide. The lush greenery of Xuan Jing's favorite flowers faded into something more muted and strange—trees that seemed to shimmer with shadows, their bark etched with faint, glowing sigils. The vibrant petals scattered on the ground turned darker, some disintegrating into black ash as they stepped past them.
The shift in atmosphere wasn't lost on Wei Lin, who immediately placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon, his garnet eyes narrowing. The spirits, who had previously swarmed around Xuan Jing like excitable children, now lingered at a distance, their glowing eyes darting nervously to the trees.
"Xuán Gē," one of them finally whispered, its voice tinged with unease. "We… we shouldn't go any further."
Xuan Jing didn't stop. His small frame may have looked comical in the oversized robes, but his presence was anything but childish. The Soul Lantern in his hands flickered with an eerie light, casting long, wavering shadows on the path ahead.
"You can leave if you're afraid," Xuan Jing said calmly, his tone carrying an edge of finality.
The spirits hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances before one of them spoke up. "It's not fear, Xuán Gē… it's respect. Beyond this point lies a place even we cannot touch."
Wei Lin's eyes flicked to Xuan Jing. "They might be annoying, but they're not stupid," he muttered. "If they're warning you, maybe we should—"
"No." Xuan Jing's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding. He didn't look at Wei Lin, his silver eyes fixed ahead. "There's something here. Something calling to me. I'm not turning back."
Wei Lin clenched his jaw, his instincts screaming at him to grab Xuan Jing and drag him out of there if he had to. But he knew better than to argue when Xuan Jing got like this.
The path grew darker as they moved forward, the trees closing in around them like silent sentinels. The only light came from the flickering flame of the Soul Lantern, which pulsed faintly, as if alive. The whispers that had surrounded them earlier were gone, replaced by an oppressive silence that pressed against their ears.
Finally, the path opened into a clearing, but the sight that greeted them was far from welcoming.
In the center of the clearing stood a massive stone altar, its surface carved with intricate, twisting runes that seemed to shift and writhe under the light of the lantern. Surrounding the altar were towering black obelisks, their surfaces polished to a mirror-like sheen that reflected the dim glow of the lantern's flame.
But it wasn't the altar or the obelisks that made Wei Lin's blood run cold. It was the figure standing atop the altar.
Tall and cloaked in shadows, the figure seemed to absorb the faint light around it, its form a void of darkness save for two glowing silver eyes—eyes that mirrored Xuan Jing's exactly.
"Welcome, child of shadows," the figure said, its voice deep and resonant, carrying a strange, otherworldly echo.
Wei Lin immediately stepped in front of Xuan Jing, his weapon drawn and his garnet eyes blazing. "Stay back," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The figure tilted its head, a faint smile forming on its otherwise featureless face. "Ah, the protector. Fierce and loyal, as expected."
"Who are you?" Xuan Jing asked, stepping out from behind Wei Lin despite the older boy's protests. His small frame seemed insignificant in the presence of the towering figure, but his gaze was steady, unflinching.
"I am what you seek," the figure replied, its silver eyes fixed on Xuan Jing. "And what you fear. I am the essence of what you carry, the truth of your Eclipsed Essence."
The Soul Lantern flickered violently in Xuan Jing's hands, the flame growing larger and more erratic. The runes on the altar began to glow, casting the clearing in an eerie light.
Wei Lin's grip on his weapon tightened, his instincts screaming at him to act. But before he could move, the figure raised a hand, and the air around them shifted, growing heavy and cold.
"You've come far, child," the figure continued, ignoring Wei Lin entirely. "But you are not yet ready to wield the power you hold. Not without understanding the cost."
Xuan Jing's eyes narrowed. "What cost?"
The figure's smile widened. "The cost of holding dominion over both light and shadow. Of balancing what was never meant to coexist. You may think you control your essence, but it is not yours alone."
The words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.
"I am not afraid of the truth," Xuan Jing said, his voice steady.
The figure chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down Wei Lin's spine. "Brave words, child. But bravery will not protect you from what lies ahead."
With a wave of its hand, the figure summoned a swirling vortex of shadows that rose from the ground, forming into countless figures—each one identical to Xuan Jing. They stood motionless, their silver eyes glowing faintly as they stared at the real Xuan Jing.
"Face them," the figure commanded. "Prove that you are worthy of your essence."
Wei Lin immediately stepped forward, but Xuan Jing raised a hand to stop him. "No," he said firmly. "This is my trial."
Wei Lin hesitated, his garnet eyes filled with frustration and concern. But he nodded, reluctantly stepping back. "Be careful," he muttered.
Xuan Jing stepped toward the shadowy figures, the Soul Lantern in his hands glowing brighter with each step. The shadows began to move, their forms shifting and twisting as they advanced toward him.
The clearing was silent, save for the sound of Xuan Jing's steady footsteps and the faint hum of the lantern's flame.
And then, the shadows attacked.