The passage downward was narrow.
Not like the descent before.
This was not carved for many.
Only one or two could walk side by side.
The walls were close.
Rough.
Scarred.
Lin Feng stepped first.
His pace did not slow.
Behind him, Jian Mo followed.
Then Qin Yue.
Han Lei came last, his presence heavier, more guarded than before.
No one spoke.
The air had changed again.
Colder.
But not empty.
Dense.
Every breath carried weight.
The deeper they went—
The more the pressure built.
Not pressing on the body.
But on the mind.
On focus.
Lin Feng's grip on his sword remained steady.
His breathing did not change.
But his awareness expanded.
The pull—
Was no longer faint.
It was constant.
Like a thread tied to him.
Guiding him forward.
Jian Mo noticed.
"You've stopped testing your steps."
Lin Feng nodded slightly.
"There's no need."
A pause.
"I know where to go."
Han Lei frowned behind them.
"That doesn't make sense."
Lin Feng didn't explain.
Because it didn't need explanation.
It was instinct now.
Or something beyond it.
They continued.
The passage widened slowly.
Until—
It opened.
The four stepped into a vast underground chamber.
And stopped.
The difference was immediate.
There were no scattered swords.
No broken ruins.
No chaotic field.
Only—
Order.
Perfect.
The chamber was circular.
Smooth stone walls curved upward into darkness.
At the center—
A raised altar.
And above it—
A single sword.
Suspended.
It did not tremble.
It did not emit violent intent.
It simply…
Existed.
But its presence—
Was overwhelming.
Not in force.
In weight.
Lin Feng's eyes locked onto it.
His breathing slowed further.
That was it.
The source.
The Heavenly Ruin Sword.
Jian Mo exhaled quietly.
"…So this is it."
Even Han Lei did not speak.
Qin Yue's gaze lowered slightly.
Respect.
Or instinctive caution.
Lin Feng stepped forward.
The moment he did—
The chamber reacted.
A faint hum spread through the air.
Not loud.
But deep.
Resonant.
The sword above the altar shifted.
Slightly.
Lin Feng stopped.
Not from fear.
From awareness.
Something else was here.
Not the sword.
Something around it.
He focused.
And felt it.
Threads.
Thin.
Subtle.
But present.
Connecting the sword—
To the walls.
To the ground.
To the chamber itself.
Jian Mo stepped beside him.
"You see it too."
Lin Feng nodded.
"It's bound."
Han Lei frowned.
"Bound? By what?"
Lin Feng's eyes narrowed.
"Not what."
A pause.
"Who."
Silence.
Then—
A voice echoed through the chamber.
Low.
Calm.
And very much alive.
"…You shouldn't have come this far."
The four froze.
Not in fear—
In focus.
The voice did not come from one direction.
It came from everywhere.
From the walls.
From the ground.
From the sword itself.
Then—
A figure stepped out from the shadows behind the altar.
An elder.
Robes of the Heavenly Sword Palace.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Jian Mo's eyes sharpened.
"…Elder Shen."
Han Lei's grip tightened instantly.
"You—what are you doing here?!"
Elder Shen did not answer immediately.
He walked forward slowly.
His steps calm.
Unhurried.
"You shouldn't have reached this point," he said again.
His gaze passed over them—
Then stopped on Lin Feng.
"…Especially you."
Lin Feng said nothing.
But his sword hand tightened slightly.
Jian Mo's voice was cold.
"You interfered with the seals."
Elder Shen smiled faintly.
"Interfered?"
A soft chuckle.
"No."
"I refined them."
The chamber pulsed.
The threads around the sword became visible now.
Faint lines of energy—
Holding it in place.
Controlling it.
Qin Yue spoke quietly.
"You're controlling the tomb…"
Elder Shen shook his head.
"Not the tomb."
His gaze lifted slightly.
"The sword."
Silence.
Han Lei stepped forward.
"You think you can control something like that?!"
Elder Shen's expression did not change.
"I already am."
The sword above the altar trembled.
Slightly.
Then—
It tilted.
Just enough.
The air in the chamber tightened instantly.
Lin Feng felt it.
This was not like before.
This was not scattered will.
This was focused.
Directed.
Controlled.
Elder Shen looked at Lin Feng again.
"I didn't expect the sword to react to you."
A pause.
"But it saves me time."
Jian Mo stepped forward.
"You're using him."
Elder Shen nodded.
"Yes."
"His presence stabilizes the sword."
The words fell heavy.
Lin Feng understood immediately.
That was why he had been drawn here.
Not chosen.
Used.
His eyes sharpened.
Elder Shen raised his hand.
The threads tightened.
The sword pulsed.
Then—
It moved.
Not freely.
But enough.
A single motion—
And the pressure in the chamber multiplied.
Han Lei staggered.
Qin Yue dropped to one knee.
Jian Mo held his ground—
But barely.
Only Lin Feng remained standing.
Still.
Focused.
Elder Shen's gaze deepened.
"…As expected."
Lin Feng stepped forward.
Slowly.
Against the pressure.
His sword remained at his side.
Not drawn.
Not yet.
"You're forcing it," he said.
Elder Shen smiled.
"Control requires force."
Lin Feng shook his head slightly.
"No."
A pause.
"It requires understanding."
For the first time—
Elder Shen's expression shifted.
Just slightly.
Lin Feng stepped closer to the altar.
The pressure intensified.
But he did not stop.
His breathing remained steady.
His focus absolute.
The sword trembled again.
Not from the threads—
From him.
Elder Shen's voice hardened.
"Stop."
Lin Feng didn't.
He reached the base of the altar.
And finally—
He drew his sword.
The moment the blade cleared its sheath—
The chamber reacted.
Violently.
The threads shook.
The suspended sword pulsed—
Not in resistance—
In response.
Lin Feng raised his blade.
Not toward Elder Shen.
Toward the sword.
His voice was quiet.
"Let go."
The words were not forceful.
Not commanding.
But clear.
The sword trembled.
The threads tightened.
Elder Shen's expression darkened.
"You think you can take it from me?"
Lin Feng's eyes did not move.
"I'm not taking it."
A pause.
"I'm releasing it."
The tension in the chamber reached its peak.
And in that moment—
Everything balanced on a single point.
Control.
Or freedom.
And whichever broke first—
Would decide everything.