The blinding glare subsided, leaving behind nothing but a pale, ashen residue in the depths of Ethan's retinas.
When Ethan opened his eyes again, the sweltering Brooklyn summer heat—thick with the stench of machine oil and rot—had vanished. In its place was a bone-chilling cold. It was a knife-like frost, a piercing wind blowing from mountain peaks where the snow never melted.
He was in Sanctum. A realm suspended precariously between the mundane world and the legendary divine domains.
Since ancient times, countless cultivators had burned through their lives here, desperate to pass the trials left by the gods and push open the gates to "Ascension." Yet, in thousands of years of blood-soaked history, only two had ever successfully entered the fabled Kunlun Divine Realm.
Ethan knelt on the freezing bluestone floor, each ragged breath blooming into a thick white mist. The yellow Immobilization Charm Linda had left was torn and tattered, yet it remained like a heavy shackle, pinning his body ruthlessly to the ground.
"Welcome to Sanctum, Ethan."
"I am Luca."
"I am Iris."
Two youthful, perfectly overlapping voices echoed under the vast, empty dome. A boy and a girl, no older than ten, stood on either side of him. They wore neat hair buns and pristine white robes, looking at Ethan with innocent, guileless smiles.
But beneath that innocence lurked a soul-chilling strangeness: Ethan realized they weren't breathing.
With a synchronized flick of their sleeves, the floating white silk brushed against Ethan's chest and precisely plucked away the remnant yellow talisman. Instantly, the thousand-pound weight vanished, and the internal heat in his lungs—which had felt seconds away from spontaneous combustion—was extinguished.
Ethan flipped over and lunged to his feet in a single burst of motion. He scanned his surroundings like a trapped predator. The room was desperately cavernous, its walls carved with the same twisting, writhing runes as the array that had just swallowed him.
"Send me back!" Ethan roared, his voice cracking with a desperate tremor. "Linda is still there! I have to save her!"
"It is too late. Your aunt is dead," Luca said, his voice as flat as a stagnant pond.
"But the strange thing is, her soul hasn't returned to this side," Iris picked up the thread. The two children looked at each other and tilted their heads in unison. "Why is that?"
That "why" echoed through the empty room like a cold needle driven into Ethan's spine. He couldn't hear anything else; his mind was a frantic loop of Linda being driven into a corner.
Suddenly, a cold hand pressed firmly onto the crown of Ethan's head.
It was a young woman dressed in a thick, quilted jacket. Her expression was icy, her face adorned with an elegant yet distant "Peach Blossom" makeup. Her lips were as red as cherries, and a jade hairpin glowed with a faint, ghostly green light in the gloom. Luca and Iris instantly retracted their smiles, stepped back respectfully, and performed a standard cupped-hand salute.
"Look clearly," Nyx Malphas said coldly.
Without warning, Ethan's consciousness was violently dragged into a spiritual flashback. He felt like a drowning man forced into the depths of his own memory. He saw the final second before the portal closed: Linda was not in pain. Amidst the Lotus Pyre capable of melting all existence, she wore a faint smile of liberation. She knew she had bought Ethan time to escape, and then she disintegrated into a cloud of scattering ash.
"You are now the last spark of the Chen Clan," Nyx said, withdrawing her hand and looking down at the boy slumped on the floor. She carelessly tossed a heavy quilted jacket onto him.
"Don't make her death cheap. Come with me now; the trouble inside you hasn't been solved yet."She paused, her tone softening slightly. "Only when you learn to wield this power will you have the right to talk about 'revenge.'"
Ethan grabbed the cold jacket with trembling hands. He realized that, at this moment, rage was his most useless weapon. Who were those robots? And what did they mean by Linda's soul being missing?
To find the answers, he had to survive first.
They led Ethan out of the secret chamber and onto an open-air stone gallery with no railings. The mountain wind cut like a blade, instantly slicing through any lingering warmth.
Ethan stopped abruptly, a violent wave of vertigo hitting him. His fingertips clawed into the freezing rock wall. He was standing within the Jianmu Conservatory, a massive castle carved directly into the greyish-white cliffs like a stone beast.
High-altitude meltwater roared from the mouths of giant gargoyles, falling like white dragons into the thousand-foot abyss below. Across the lake, wooden buildings were layered along the mountain—the homes of Sanctum's residents. Their lights flickered in the dusk, looking ancient and lonely compared to the neon glow of New York.
They entered the castle interior. The corridors were decorated with intricate wood carvings and ancient silk paintings. Faint memories stirred in Ethan's mind; these textures felt hauntingly familiar.
In the top-floor council chamber, Ethan met the man who held his fate: Cassian Valerius, the Headmaster of Jianmu Conservatory.
In this academy, Psionics like Ethan learned to study incantations and hone their spells.
Cassian sat at a long table by the window, draped in black-and-gold robes. He had sharp, short hair, and the rune-etched earrings on his lobes swayed slightly in the candlelight. Though he looked no older than thirty, his deep, gentle eyes held a sorrow that could only be refined through centuries. Ethan would later learn this man was 370 years old.
"Linda's sacrifice was to buy you the chance to make a choice," Cassian spoke, his voice as rich as aged wine. He looked at Ethan with a kind smile. "The last time I saw you, you were much smaller than Luca and Iris."
"The last time?" Ethan was stunned. Blurred fragments flashed: a tall man, swaying earrings, a cold stone gallery.
Yes. He had truly been here before.
"Forgive an old man's forgetfulness; I haven't introduced us properly." Cassian stood up. "I am Cassian, your Headmaster. Luca and Iris are not human; they are puppets infused with souls. Do not let their youth fool you; they have guarded this place for a century. And Nyx is a professor here; she teaches Cursology. No one knows the curse inside you better than she does."
Cassian walked to the window and pointed to a lonely black tower on an island in the lake—The Hollow Spire.
"The spiritual power you were born with is too strong; it is enough to detonate the curse within you. It is a vile, forbidden hex that grants devastating power at the cost of your life. Even after death, the karmic fire will continue to burn the soul forever."
Cassian sighed. "When Linda brought you back years ago for help, I realized that staying in Sanctum would only cause your power to swell, accelerating your self-combustion."
"So, I performed Soul-Clipping. I cut away half of your soul, sealing it along with most of your power inside that tower. Only then could you live as an ordinary boy until now."
He turned, his gaze becoming as sharp as a blade. "But now, that balance has failed. You must learn to master the 'Complete Self' before your soul is incinerated."
"This curse... can it be broken?" Ethan clenched his fists.
"It can," Nyx spoke from the shadows, her voice icy. "But not now. Survive the fusion first."
"Luca said Linda's soul didn't come back..." Ethan's voice trembled. "And those robots... what are they?"
Cassian reached out and tapped a paper-cut figure on the desk. Instantly, the paper came to life, twisting into miniature forms of the three robots. The paper figures moved with jarring, distorted motions, tearing at everything around them.
"I call them The Reapers," Cassian said. "Our investigation shows they are hunting certain Psionics. We do not know their ultimate goal yet. Rumor has it they possess a ritual tool that can harvest and imprison souls. Normally, a Psionic's soul is summoned back to Sanctum upon death. But Linda's and Wu's souls have vanished... It seems the rumors are true."
The office fell into a deathly silence.
"Go and rest," Cassian waved his sleeve as if brushing away a fog. "Starting tomorrow, you officially enter Jianmu Conservatory. You have only one month to learn and master your spiritual energy. In one month, I will open The Hollow Spire and return the other half of your soul. Whether you fuse and are reborn, or turn to ash on the spot..."
He paused, a cold sense of destiny flashing in his eyes.
"That depends entirely on your own luck. You are weeks behind on your curriculum; you'll need to work a little harder."