Shen Aozu crouched in the underbrush, his breath controlled despite the fire of pain lacing through his body. Around him, the few survivors of the massacre stood in tense stillness, their faces pale and streaked with soot and blood.

  Yao Li held onto a wounded child, whispering reassurances even as her own injuries bled freely. Jin Han, once the composed leader of the healers, now gritted his teeth, barely holding back the anguish of losing his people.

  Behind them, the Crimson Moon’s torches flickered, illuminating the charred remains of their sanctuary. The stench of burning bodies lingered in the air.

  The princess—no, that woman—had done this.

  Shen Aozu’s fingers dug into the cold earth. Princess Yue Zhen. Once, she had been an innocent girl, full of dreams and laughter. Now, she was a nightmare made flesh. A butcher with no remorse.

  Her soldiers had carved through the helpless healers with merciless precision, laughing as they torched the cavern that had been their only shelter. And in the midst of it all, Yue Zhen had watched with cold, golden eyes—detached, beautiful, and utterly cruel.

  A familiar rage simmered beneath Shen Aozu’s skin, but it was tainted now—darker, heavier, whispering to him from the depths of the Abyss. He clenched his jaw.

  This wasn’t the time.

  They had barely escaped with their lives. And with the Crimson Moon still scouring the woods, that survival was temporary at best.

  Jin Han turned to him, his voice hoarse. “We need to move.”

  Shen Aozu nodded. “Where?”

  Yao Li answered this time, her voice soft but firm. “There’s a ruin… deep within the Mirewood. No one dares enter. The land is cursed, but it’s safe from them.”

  A cursed land. Fitting.

  With no other options, the small group of survivors moved through the darkness, leaving behind the smoldering remains of what had once been their home.

  But Yue Zhen wasn’t done with them.

  Somewhere behind them, a single horn echoed through the trees, sharp and shrill.

  The hunt had begun.

  A Deal with the Abyss

  The Mirewood was unlike any forest Shen Aozu had known. The trees loomed impossibly tall, their gnarled roots weaving through the earth like veins. A ghostly mist slithered between them, swallowing sound and distorting movement. It was a place of lost souls, where even Qi flowed strangely, shifting like a living thing.

  Yao Li guided them forward, her steps careful yet sure. “We’re close.”

  Behind them, the distant cries of the Crimson Moon warriors grew louder. They were gaining.

  Shen Aozu gritted his teeth. He could fight, but in his current state, he would fall long before the others could escape.

  He looked at Yao Li. “Take them and run. I’ll hold them off.”

  “No.” Her refusal was immediate, her dark eyes fierce. “We don’t leave people behind.”

  Before Shen Aozu could argue, the ground beneath them trembled. A low, inhuman growl reverberated through the air.

  Jin Han’s breath hitched. “What was that?”

  Yao Li’s face paled. “The ruin… it’s waking.”

  A massive, ancient structure loomed before them, half-buried in the roots of the forest. Its entrance was a yawning void, darker than the night itself. Symbols older than any dynasty lined its crumbling stone, pulsating with a sickly glow.

  And then, the whisper returned.

  You seek power… I offer it freely.

  The Abyss.

  Shen Aozu’s breath caught as the darkness within the ruin pulsed, beckoning him forward. He knew the stories—those who entered never returned the same. But against the Crimson Moon, against Yue Zhen’s ruthless hunt, he had no choice.

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  He stepped toward the ruin.

  Jin Han grabbed his arm. “Are you insane? That place—it devours souls.”

  Shen Aozu’s gaze burned with determination. “Then let it take what’s left of mine.”

  The Crimson Moon warriors burst through the trees, weapons gleaming under the blood-red moon. Yue Zhen was not among them, but her killers were. And they were ready to finish the job.

  Shen Aozu turned back to his allies. “Go. Now.”

  Yao Li hesitated for only a moment before nodding. She and the others vanished into the mist, leaving Shen Aozu alone as the warriors charged.

  With a final breath, he stepped into the ruin’s darkness.

  And the Abyss swallowed him whole.

  The moment Shen Aozu crossed the threshold, the air grew heavier. The ground beneath him seemed to pulse with a strange, unnatural rhythm, as though the very earth was alive. Every step he took echoed, not just in his ears, but in his very soul.

  The ruin was vast, its walls stretching upward like the fingers of a long-forgotten giant. Symbols etched into the stone glowed faintly, casting eerie, shifting shadows. The whispers were louder now, not just from the Abyss, but from the structure itself. It felt as if the ruin was aware of his presence, recognizing him for what he was—an intruder.

  Shen Aozu clenched his fists, his senses sharpening despite the oppressive atmosphere. He was no stranger to the unknown, to dangerous places, but this—this was different. There was something deeply wrong about this place. Something ancient and malevolent.

  The darkness grew thicker the further he went. His breath became ragged as the air seemed to constrict around him, pressing against his chest. His mind wandered, struggling to hold onto clarity amidst the overwhelming pressure.

  But then, it called to him.

  "You seek power…" The voice reverberated, not in his ears but deep within his mind. "I offer it freely…"

  Shen Aozu’s heart raced. He had heard this voice before—the whisper of the Abyss. It had spoken to him when he had first embraced the darkness, when he had chosen to let the Ashen Lotus grow within him. It had promised him strength, but at a terrible cost.

  "What do you want from me?" Shen Aozu spat, his voice cold, yet tinged with something he could not quite name. A mix of dread and curiosity.

  "Everything, and nothing." The voice seemed to laugh, a sound that echoed through the depths of his soul. "You already know what I offer. You know the price."

  The shadows around him twisted, coiling like serpents, and for a moment, Shen Aozu was unsure if he was still in the ruin or if the very fabric of reality had begun to unravel. His Qi, once a river flowing with control and precision, now pulsed erratically. It was dark, twisted—corrupted by the Abyss.

  "Take it," the voice whispered. "Take the power of the Abyss, and you will become unstoppable. Your enemies will fall before you. You will become the master of this world."

  Shen Aozu’s mind flashed to the faces of those he had lost—Mei Lian, Jin Han, Yao Li, the healers who had fought and died to protect the weak. His fist clenched tighter, the pain of their deaths still raw.

  He could almost hear Li Wei’s voice sneering in his mind, taunting him for his failures, for his weakness. For not protecting the people he had sworn to safeguard.

  "I will make them all pay."

  And in that moment, Shen Aozu made his choice.

  He extended his hand into the shadows, into the very core of the Abyss. Power surged through him like fire, burning away his last remnants of humanity. The Ashen Lotus bloomed inside him once more, feeding on his grief, his rage, his despair. It was no longer just a symbol of his desire for vengeance—it was a part of him, a dark seed planted deep within his soul.

  The power flooded him, and Shen Aozu screamed—not in pain, but in triumph. The Abyss had claimed him, but in return, he had claimed it.

  His body cracked and shifted, his veins now pulsing with blackened Qi. His mind burned with the newfound strength. It felt like the entire world had bowed before him, like he had become the force that would shape the future.

  And then, something else stirred.

  A presence.

  It was ancient, far older than anything Shen Aozu had ever encountered, and it pressed against his mind, not with force, but with a chilling sense of purpose.

  "You are not alone here," the voice whispered.

  Shen Aozu paused, his blood freezing. The Abyss had offered him power, but now it was demanding something more.

  Suddenly, the shadows around him parted, and a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and cloaked in flowing robes, the figure’s face was hidden in shadow, but its eyes glowed with an unsettling light—eyes that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality.

  "You…" Shen Aozu breathed, his voice a whisper of disbelief.

  The figure tilted its head slightly. "I see you have made your choice," it said, its voice rich with an otherworldly resonance. "But remember, Aozu, the Abyss does not grant power without cost. You are no longer just a man. You are something more, something... less."

  Shen Aozu narrowed his eyes. "What are you?"

  "I am what you have become," the figure replied softly. "The Abyss is both a curse and a gift. And now, you must walk its path. It is a path of endless conflict, of endless hunger. Power will not be enough to sate it."

  Shen Aozu’s grip tightened on his blade. "Then I’ll make it enough."

  The figure’s eyes flickered with an emotion that almost resembled amusement. "Then let us see, Aozu. Let us see how long your power will last before it consumes you."

  With that, the figure stepped back into the shadows, disappearing as if it had never been there.

  Shen Aozu stood alone in the ruin, the dark power of the Abyss swirling around him. He could feel it—his heart, his soul, now tethered to something much older, much darker than anything he had ever known. Yet, as the power surged within him, a new thought crept into his mind.

  What if this was not just his struggle? What if the Abyss was not done with him yet?

  He turned and walked deeper into the ruin, his footsteps echoing through the darkness. There was no turning back now. The Abyss had given him power—but it had also claimed him.

  And now, he would face whatever awaited in the depths.