The next few floors passed by in a blur as Yu Chen and the others ascended the tower. No more ghosts appeared as they climbed, the only sound they heard was the echoing of their own footsteps slapping against the stone floors of the tower.

  The seventh floor had clearly been designed for some alchemical purpose, filled with large cauldrons and shelves of strange, unrecognizable instruments Yu Chen had never seen before. The eighth however, was filled with corpses.

  Long dead, but the first sign they had of anything once living.

  “What the hell happened here?” Sun Yuan asked, choking as he nearly gagged at the sight. Xue Lan covered her mouth as Serbo au Serbo and Yan Ziqi exchanged frowns, staring around at the scene.

  There was something strange about it all, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds of the mummified bodies. Yu Chen’s gaze lingered on a faded crest, so different from the one beside it. That was it, he realized, staring at the pile of corpses. They were all distinct, cut in differing styles and branded with the mark from some sect or the other. It was almost as i—

  Xue Lan’s breath hitched. “Yu Chen!” she exclaimed, raising a trembling finger to point towards one of the nearby corpses.

  He turned at her words, frowning as he looked at the body she was pointing at. His eyes widened half a moment later, realizing the problem. This corpse was still decaying, not nearly as old as the rest.

  “Not good,” Serbo muttered, his frown deepening as he stared at the corpse.

  “You think?” Sun Yuan scoffed, kneeling beside the body. “This guy is nearly fresh. I don’t think anyone’s ever escaped from here.”

  “No, they haven’t.” The voice came from behind them.

  Yu Chen spun around at the unexpected sound.

  “Who are yo-” he began, frowning at the unfamiliar man, but his words cut off as the man suddenly flickered. Sun Yuan let out a startled shout from beside him as Serbo au Serbo shifted, his bow appearing with a flick of his wrist.

  The new man didn’t reply right away, staring at them with a pair of deep-set eyes. Yu Chen met his gaze suspiciously, but the man stared back impassively, as if nothing at all happened. Without the others he might have thought he imagined it.

  The man’s embroidered robes were finely made, in the subtle way of the truly powerful, but cut in an ancient pattern Yu Chen didn’t recognize. His long black hair was tightly coiled, pulled into a thick bun at the top of his head. He had a noble appearance, his jaw tapering into a sharp chin crowned with an immaculate goatee, but his sallow cheeks were hollow and gaunt, so sunken he appeared almost sickly.

  Whatever sickness he might have had didn’t reach his eyes. They were piercing, filled with an ancient wisdom Yu Chen had only seen once before. They were framed with wrinkles, tiny crow’s feet that were the only sign of his age on otherwise flawless skin. They captivated Yu Chen, pressing down on him with a weight that sent his heart racing. He shifted uncomfortably beneath that gaze, feeling stripped down, as though all of his secrets had been revealed.

  “You stand here in my city and ask who I am?” The man said, pinning him down.

  “I am the Riverlord of Tiān Xū.” His lips twisted into the bitter mockery of a smile. “And I want to know what you’re doing here.” His eyes flashed with his final words, filling Yu Chen with unease.

  Yu Chen’s frown tightened, the hairs on the back of his arms rising as an alarm went off, telling him only one thing. This man was dangerous.

  “We aren’t doing anything, senior.” Yu Chen replied cautiously. “We came here by accident and are only looking for a way out, that’s it.”

  The man didn’t reply, looking between them in turn.

  “I’ve been watching you.” He continued, taking a small step forward that sent them all pedaling backwards. “As you’ve explored this place. Ransacking it.” His tone lowered as he approached.

  “S-s-senior,” Yu Chen protested, “We haven’t meant any harm, truly. We’ve been here for days and haven’t seen anyone! We thought whoever lived here was dead and gone.”

  The man paused, his eyes tightening as he looked to the side. “That much is true.” He said at last.

  Yu Chen felt a heavy hand land on his arm as Serbo au Serbo leaned close beside him.

  “Spirit,” The young man whispered, his grip tightening on his bow. The words attracted the Riverlord’0s attention, His eyes gleaming as he looked towards the barbarian.

  “Nothing escapes you, does it, wastelander?” The man asked, shaking his head. “Although I suppose if anyone would recognize a spirit your kind would. Tell me, does Xuanwu still roam the dying sands?”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Serbo gasped out loud, making a strange sign with his hands before bowing his head low. Yu Chen felt something stir in him as well, almost as if some part of him recognized the name.

  “I suppose so.” The Riverlord said, stroking his goatee. “Although you are young to have met him. One day perhaps.” He paused, looking between them. “If you survive.”

  “What happened here?” To Yu Chen’s surprise it was Xue Lan who spoke, her voice firm despite the undercurrent of fear running through it. “To the city,” she said, one hand gripping the hilt of her sword, “and to them.” She nodded towards the dead piled in the room.

  “They received what all thieves deserve,” The man said, fixing her in his gaze, “a just end. As for the city,” he sighed, his eyes filling with sorrow. “The answer to that is a bit more complicated.”

  The man folded his arms in front of him, each hand disappearing into the long sleeves of his robe as a brooding look crossed his face. “If you truly wish to know, the answers lie at the top of the tower.”

  Yu Chen reached out, putting a hand on Xue Lan’s shoulder. The girl turned at the touch, but he simply squeezed, reassuring. “No, your lordship,” he stumbled a bit, over the unfamiliar word, “We only wish to leave this place. If you could tell us h-”

  The Riverlord snorted, piercing him with his gaze. “So you can take your ill-gotten gains and run, is that it?”

  “No!” Yu Chen said, desperately hurrying to reply, “We can return everything! The only thing we need is our lives.”

  The Riverlord regarded him in silence. A bead of sweat ran down Yu Chen’s forehead as Serbo au Serbo shifted beside him.

  “It doesn’t matter.” The Riverlord said at last, glancing upwards. “Nowadays, there is only one way out of this city, and it lies above.” He turned his gaze towards the rest of them before continuing to speak. “I suggest you hurry, I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  The man flickered once more, before disappearing for good.

  Silence stretched across the room as Yu Chen looked around at the others. Xue Lan’s face was white with fear but determined, while Sun Yuan appeared as though he’d sucked on a sour plum. Serbo au Serbo looked oddly reverent, while Yan Ziqi stood with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers in thought.

  “Did his voice sound familiar to you?” The artificer suddenly said, looking around at the rest of them.

  Yu Chen shook his head no, but Xue Lan agreed.

  “Yes,” she said. “I thought so too.”

  Sun Yuan rolled his eyes, following behind Serbo au Serbo as he grunted, moving forward through the room.

  “Come on then,” Yu Chen said to the other two. “Let's get it over with.”

  There was only one lift this time, a singular stone platform almost stark in its loneliness. Slowly they piled on board, almost hesitant of what waited for them above. They had no choice but to press on. They’d explored the entire city, top to bottom and found nothing of note, they’d even explored the waters beyond, but they ended in a dome of energy many times more powerful than anything they could hope to muster.

  Not to mention the creature that was no doubt still out there lurking in the darkness.

  They squashed down on their fear and squeezed in together, preparing to face their destiny at the top of the tower. Their mood fell as the lift rose. Whatever cheer they’d once had was replaced by the cold feeling of dread as the stone platform suddenly rocked, locking into place on the ninth floor of the tower.

  One by one they stepped off, entering the final floor of the spire.

  The room was small. No, small didn’t really describe it. It was cozy, the walls sloping around them in an approximation of the dome outside. It was ringed in open windows that overlooked the city outside, and there was even a door that led out onto a balcony with a view of the plaza below.

  It was furnished in the manner of the man who’d once dwelled there, functional and utilitarian. A single straight-backed chair sat behind a desk piled high with now disintegrated papers, while a small carpet, ancient and frayed but still resplendent despite its age, covered most of the floor. Other than that, there was little ornamentation, beyond the dense scripts covering the room.

  Lines of runic script blazed across every open inch of the space, so intricate it made Yu Chen’s head swim. He tried following just one line, but it constantly twisted and turned, running back on itself before feeding into another line entirely. He couldn’t make heads nor tails of it, but Xue Lan stepped forward, enthralled.

  “Do you enjoy runework?” The voice came from the side. Yu Chen spun to see the Riverlord there, a complicated expression crossing his face as he stared at Xue Lan.

  “She loved it as well. She did all of this you know,” he said, trailing his fingers over the wall, but his voice turned mocking once more as he continued. “The capstone of our grand experiment.”

  “She was incredible,” Xue Lan breathed, staring at the wall in fascination.

  “She was.” The Riverlord agreed. “She would have liked you, I think. She always loved someone willing to learn.”

  Xue Lan let out a soft sigh, before turning to look at him. “You loved her, didn’t you?” She asked, her eyes filled with a sympathetic pain.

  “Love…” The Riverlord hesitated, before turning away, his head bowed.

  Yu Chen stepped out of the way as Xue Lan stepped forward, moving closer to the apparition.

  “You’re not the Riverlord at all,” she said, her voice soft, gentle. “Are you, Han Moxuan?”

  The Riverlord laughed, a short, sharp bark filled with pain.

  “Oh, but I am.” He said, his face smoothing. His chin lifted up and his brows tightened, turning dignified. “I am the Riverlord, by rite of the ancient way. By right of conquest.” His lips turned up, a predatory gleam filling his eyes.

  “Then what happened?” She pressed, stepping closer to him. “If you managed to kill the last Riverlord in time, why did things turn out like this? Why is the city abandoned?”

  Han Moxuan turned, not replying right away. Instead, he walked across the room and out onto the balcony, looking over the city. Xue Lan stepped forward, following him, with the rest of them close behind her.

  The sound of silence stretched, lingering in the air like a hundred half whispered secrets as Han Moxuan, Riverlord of a ruined city stared out across his empty kingdom.

  “It was too late.” He said at last, turning to face them. “Things had progressed too far. Even with him dead, someone had to take his place or all would be lost. Ten thousand lives or more, who hadn’t had time to flee.”

  “And what of your wife, and your brother?” Xue Lan asked.

  The Riverlord didn’t reply, but his silence spoke volumes.

  Xue Lan fell silent as well, her gaze sympathetic.

  “Bu-” Sun Yuan began, before Yan Ziqi slapped a hand over his mouth, stifling the young man.

  Still, it was enough to rouse the Riverlord from his reverie.

  “Enough about the past,” he said as a palpable aura of menace filled the room. “Now is the time to worry about yourselves.”