The remnants of the battle in the western district hung thick in the air, a silent testament to the clash between light and darkness. Broken weapons lay scattered across the cobblestones, and scorch marks marred the once pristine streets where the master's golden aura had burned through the shadows. The few guards who remained alive stood shaken, their faces pale as they processed what they had just witnessed.
Wei Long surveyed the area, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His sharp eyes scanned the shadows carefully, searching for any lingering trace of the man in black robes. The air was unnaturally still, as though the city itself was holding its breath.
"It's gone," Wei Long muttered, exhaling heavily. "For now."
The master stood in the center of the devastation, his golden eyes dimmed but still burning with determination. Though the immediate threat had passed, he knew this was only a prelude to something far more dangerous. The man in black robes was no ordinary foe. The master's understanding of heavenly law told him that the shadows were part of an ancient power—something tied to a force beyond this mortal realm.
Wei Long approached cautiously. "Master, we need to report this to the imperial court. The city's officials will need to prepare for what's coming."
The master shook his head slowly. "No," he said, his voice calm but resolute. "The imperial court cannot face this enemy. If they knew the truth of what we faced tonight, panic would consume the capital."
Wei Long frowned. "Then what should we do? We cannot stand alone."
"We won't," the master replied. He turned his gaze to the eastern sky, where the first light of dawn was beginning to break. "The pavilion will serve as the bulwark against this darkness. But first, we must strengthen our position. There is little time left."
Wei Long looked confused. "Strengthen the pavilion? How?"
The master smiled faintly. "By calling upon those who are destined."
The return to the pavilion was silent, though Wei Long's mind was anything but. The master's words about destiny lingered with him, gnawing at the edge of his understanding. The master, as always, was far ahead of him, seeing paths that others could not. Wei Long had seen the man accomplish feats that defied logic—but tonight had shaken him. This foe was unlike anything they had faced before.
When they arrived at the pavilion, the master strode into the main hall, his aura commanding as he swept past the servants and attendants. He raised his hand, and the space within the pavilion rippled, the boundaries of reality shifting to reveal the vast, ethereal realm within.
The interior of the pavilion was a marvel of heavenly craftsmanship—a small world unto itself, where waterfalls cascaded from floating islands and the air shimmered with spiritual energy. At its heart stood a small platform etched with ancient runes, a nexus of power that served as the pavilion's core.
The master stepped onto the platform and sat cross-legged, his golden eyes closing as he extended his spiritual sense outward. The air grew thick with energy, and a faint hum filled the pavilion, as though the very world was responding to his call.
Wei Long stood at a respectful distance, watching in awe. The servants had all been dismissed, leaving the great hall empty save for the master and himself. He had no idea what the master was doing, but he could feel the power building in the air, like the gathering of a great storm.
Suddenly, the master's voice echoed through the hall, low and resonant.
"Heavenly Secret Pavilion, awaken."
A deep vibration shook the room, and the runes on the platform flared to life, glowing with golden light. The light spread outward, tracing patterns across the floor and up the walls, forming a vast, intricate array of symbols that pulsed with energy.
Wei Long stumbled back, shielding his eyes from the brilliance. "Master! What… what is happening?"
The master's voice remained calm, though his aura burned like a blazing sun. "I am calling them."
"Calling who?" Wei Long shouted over the growing hum of energy.
The master's eyes snapped open, glowing with golden fire. "The destined ones."
Far beyond the capital, in the mountains and plains of the empire, scattered across villages, towns, and hidden sects, certain individuals stirred as a voice echoed in their minds.
Come.
The voice was faint, like a whisper carried on the wind, but it struck deep into their souls, resonating with something primal within them. Each of them paused in their tasks, their eyes widening as they felt the pull of destiny for the first time in their lives.
A young blacksmith in a remote village dropped his hammer, his heart pounding. A scholar in a dusty library looked up from his scrolls, his mind racing. A wandering swordswoman paused on a forest path, her blade trembling in her hand. And a child in a small hut, forgotten by the world, looked to the sky with tears in their eyes, as though they had been waiting for this moment their entire life.
The voice spoke again, clearer this time.
Come to the Heavenly Secret Pavilion.
Each of them felt the pull—an invisible thread tugging at their very beings. Though they did not understand it, they knew they had no choice but to follow.
Back in the pavilion, the master exhaled slowly as he completed the call. The golden light faded, and the array of runes returned to dormancy. Silence filled the hall once more, broken only by the master's steady breathing.
Wei Long stared at him in awe. "Who are they, master?"
The master rose to his feet, his expression serene but determined. "Those whom fate has chosen. They will come to the pavilion in time. And when they do, we will prepare them for what lies ahead."
Wei Long's brow furrowed. "You mean… you intend to train them?"
"Not merely train them," the master replied. "They will become the shield and sword of this world—a force capable of standing against the darkness."
Wei Long hesitated, his doubt clear on his face. "But what if they are not strong enough? What if we are too late?"
The master turned to face him, his golden eyes blazing. "Then I will stand alone, as I always have. But I will not abandon hope. Destiny has brought them here for a reason, and I will see that reason fulfilled."
Wei Long could only nod, though his mind still swirled with questions. He had no doubt in the master's strength, but the enemy they faced was beyond comprehension. Could a handful of destined individuals truly make a difference?
He pushed the thought aside. If the master believed in them, then so would he.
Over the following days, the pavilion buzzed with quiet anticipation. The servants worked tirelessly to prepare for the arrival of the destined ones, though none of them knew who they were or when they would arrive.
Wei Long spent his time patrolling the city, ensuring that no further disturbances occurred. Though the shadows seemed to have retreated for now, he could not shake the feeling that they were watching, waiting for the right moment to strike.
The master, meanwhile, remained in the heart of the pavilion, meditating before the nexus of power. He could feel the threads of fate converging, drawing the destined ones closer with every passing moment. There was little time left. The storm was coming, and when it arrived, they would need every ounce of strength they could muster.
And so, he waited.
On the fourth day, the first of the destined ones arrived.
The blacksmith stood at the gates of the pavilion, his broad shoulders tense as he gazed up at the ethereal structure before him. He had walked for days without rest, driven by the voice that still echoed in his mind.
The master appeared before him, his golden robes flowing like liquid light. He regarded the blacksmith with a calm, knowing gaze.
"You heard the call," the master said softly.
The blacksmith nodded, his hands trembling slightly. "What is this place?"
The master smiled faintly. "The beginning of your destiny."
And so, the first of the destined ones crossed the threshold, stepping into the Heavenly Secret Pavilion, where his journey would truly begin.