The East District of Xingling had been forgotten. What was once a thriving market had fallen long ago into disuse, as traders no longer valued peddling their goods to the starving populace. Weeds overgrew cobbled streets and huddled mementos of burnt-out building lots that were like hollowed grave lots with walls seared by battles long passed. Heavy with dust, even the sun seemed to avoid touching the earth. Xian Hei stood at the threshold of this desolation, the weight of Li Shen's memories heavy in his mind.
The old merchant had not lied; this was indeed where the Li family estate had once stood. Now, it was little more than a maze of ruins, swallowed by time and neglect. The estate's vault had been sealed, its location buried deep in the memories of those who had once served the Li family. But for Xian Hei, this was only a minor obstacle. He stepped forward, his eyes scanning the broken landscape for any clue that might lead him to the hidden vault. His heart quickened as he felt the remnants of his cultivation stirring within him, still fractured but growing stronger with each passing moment. The power he had claimed from his kills was feeding him, shaping him, but it wasn't enough. Not yet. He needed more. And the vault would give him the key.
He cut a quick path through the ruin, his every step intentional; the shadows around him almost seemed to shift to a rhythm of his will. The earth seemed to bend to the power he was once again commanding. He was no longer weak Li Shen, crushed under the weight of his family's downfall. He was Xian Hei, who would rise above all and be unchallenged.
Xian Hei reached the middle of the estate, where the mansion once stood. A long time ago, its foundation gave way, and now the resulting rubble lay strewn in all directions, mixed with remains of wood. The vault lay buried beneath layer after layer of broken wreckage. Li Shen's memories whispered to him about a mechanism hidden beneath the stone slabs where once the treasure room of the family was.
Kneeling, he laid his hands on the ground, feeling the faintest tremor in the earth. He drew on the remnants of his cultivation, pushing his will into the soil with a slowness, a deliberation. The earth shook, and with a deafening groan, a section of the ground shifted, revealing an old stone door, cracked but intact.
He stood, brushing the dirt from his hands, a dark smile curving his lips.
"This is only the beginning."
He took a deep breath, and Xian Hei finally reached the stone door. He laid his hand upon the worn surface and found a faint pulse of energy beneath his touch. It would appear that the vault had not been altogether forgotten: the seals that kept it in check still hummed, it was true, though more weakly now after centuries of abandonment.
He closed his eyes and concentrated, his senses stretched to their limits. The Nine Veils of Shadow would not be easy to unlock, but he was no ordinary cultivator. His will was steel, and with the faintest flicker of his aura, he pressed against the seals. A cold, dark energy surged from within, reacting to his presence, testing him. But Xian Hei's resolve was unshakable.
"Open," he whispered, and the low tone carried a lot of weight.
Nothing happened for a moment-and then the earth shook; the door creaked as the seals cracked open. The stone slab slowly slid open, revealing a narrow staircase leading down into the depths. Xian Hei walked down without a second thought.
The air was thick and heavy, stale as if it hadn't stirred in centuries. Shelves lined the walls of the chamber, most of them vacant, others with dusty scrolls and ancient relics upon them-useless trinkets to most, but to Xian Hei, each one a possible step to greater power.
His eyes scanned across the far corner of the chamber to where he finally rested on a stone pedestal. On top of it lay a single object: a tattered, old scroll, wrapped in faded red cloth. He began to breathe harder. The Nine Veils of Shadow.
Xian Hei stepped up to the pedestal, his fingers tingling in anticipation. This was it, what he had been coming for: the artifact that would let him rise once more, achieve this godhood stolen from him. The scroll hummed with dark energy, oppressive in weight upon the air-like the very room itself held its breath.
He reached out and unfolded the cloth, revealing an ancient text.
The writing was archaic, penned in a script that could almost be said to live.
For a moment, Xian Hei paused. His mind flashed with memories of warnings he had heard in his previous life. The Nine Veils of Shadow was not a technique for the faint of heart. It was a rearing technique of the soul, which drew its powers from death, despair, and darkness. Most times, such cultivators would become hollow with their minds shattered, body withered. Yet, Xian Hei had long since made his choice, and now was most definitely not the time to turn back upon it. Unfurling the scroll, he read from it with fingers tracing across the characters. The words that sank into his mind summoned a dark and cold power through him, threading deep inside his being. The technique was merciless, brutal in its demands, but Xian Hei welcomed it. The world around him seemed to shift. He felt the weight of death and suffering weighing down on him. The power within him exploded, flooding his veins with dark energy. His eyes flared with light as his cultivation broke free from its fractured state, pulling together the shattered pieces of his dantian.
Yes… Xian Hei thought, feeling the technique wrap around his very soul. This is my true path.
But with the power came the price. His body screamed in agony as the darkness took root, devouring his humanity bit by bit. The shadows in the room seemed to dance, swirling around him like hungry wolves. His very essence was being rewritten, twisted into something darker, something more powerful.
---
When the pain subsided, Xian Hei stood tall, his body humming with raw power. The shadows that had once seemed like an extension of his will were now a part of him, an integral force coursing through his veins. His dantian, once shattered and useless, was whole again, infused with the forbidden technique.
He stood in the middle of the vault, his breathing steady, his eyes ablaze with cold intensity. The world had changed. And so had he.
He could feel it in the air, the weight of the coming storm. The Nine Veils of Shadow had turned him into something else, something other than mortal. His path to power was clear, and nothing would stand in his way.
The heavens will shake.
Xian Hei emerged from the vault, his hand still clutched with the scroll that was bursting with dark energy. The broken boy, cast away and forgotten, was gone; in his place stood Xian Hei, born of shadow, and it would be to his whim that the world would bend.