The journey had been long, and now Lin Zhan stood before the gates of the Forgotten Temple. Towering stone walls loomed above him, weathered by centuries of neglect, the intricate carvings on the gates barely visible beneath layers of moss. The entrance appeared to be alive, as though it had been waiting for someone to awaken its secrets. Lin Zhan could feel the weight of its ancient power pressing down on him.
Beside him, the mysterious man remained silent, his expression unreadable. The journey had taken them through treacherous paths and hidden dangers, but now, they had reached the final stage of their quest. The temple was everything Lin Zhan had dreamed of and feared. He could sense the aura of darkness lingering in the air, the pulse of energy from deep within the temple’s heart.
“The temple’s trials are not kind,” the man said quietly. “You may face more than just physical challenges. The power within you may begin to react. You must remain focused. Trust in your strength.”
Lin Zhan nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He had never been this close to uncovering the truth, but now, doubt gnawed at him. Could he control the power inside him? Was it truly his, or would it consume him?
The gates creaked open as if responding to the man’s words. A gust of wind swept past them, carrying with it the scent of age and decay. Lin Zhan took a step forward, entering the temple’s shadowed interior.
The air was thick, heavy with an unsettling presence. The walls of the temple seemed to close in, the passages winding and shifting, as if the structure itself was alive, watching them. The faint sound of whispers echoed through the corridors, too soft to decipher, but Lin Zhan felt them deep in his bones.
“Stay alert,” the man cautioned, his eyes scanning their surroundings. “This place plays tricks on the mind.”
They ventured deeper into the temple, passing through dimly lit halls, each one filled with strange symbols and carvings. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The very air seemed charged with energy—intangible, yet unmistakable.
Eventually, they reached the heart of the temple: a vast chamber with a high ceiling, a jagged stone altar at its center. Atop the altar, a dark crystal pulsed with an eerie light. Lin Zhan’s heart quickened. This was the source of the temple’s power, the heart of the trials. It was here that everything would be decided.
Before they could approach the altar, the ground trembled, and the air grew thick with oppressive energy. Suddenly, the stone walls around them cracked, and shadows began to shift, forming into grotesque figures. Lin Zhan's eyes widened as dark creatures materialized from the air, their eyes glowing with malice.
The man stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “Prepare yourself.”
Lin Zhan’s heart raced as the creatures advanced. They were unlike anything he had faced before—dark, spectral beings that seemed to phase in and out of existence, their movements erratic and unnatural. The power of the Undead Monarch stirred within him, but he kept it in check, knowing that the last time he lost control, the consequences were disastrous.
The first creature lunged at him, its claws sharp as blades. Lin Zhan dodged, instinctively using his cultivation to enhance his speed. He countered with a swift strike, his sword cutting through the creature’s shadowy form. The creature disintegrated into smoke, but more took its place.
The man fought alongside him, his movements precise and deadly. Lin Zhan could feel the difference in their fighting styles—the man’s control over his power was almost effortless, each movement calculated. Lin Zhan, on the other hand, was still learning, still struggling to find his rhythm. But he pushed through the fear, focusing on the creatures that kept coming.
With each strike, the creatures grew more aggressive, their attacks more intense. Lin Zhan could feel his energy draining, but he refused to stop. He could not allow himself to fail now, not when the answers were so close.
Then, in the midst of the battle, the dark crystal atop the altar began to glow brighter, its pulse quickening. The temperature in the room dropped, and Lin Zhan felt a pressure building in his chest. His vision blurred for a moment, and a voice—ancient and cold—whispered in his mind.
You cannot escape your fate, Lin Zhan. The power of the Undead Monarch will consume you. You will become a vessel for darkness, just like all those before you.
The voice sent a shiver down his spine, but Lin Zhan clenched his fists, pushing back the fear. He had to keep fighting. He had to prove to himself that he wasn’t just a pawn in some twisted game.
The man’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Focus, Lin Zhan! The power is inside you, not the crystal. Control it!”
With a deep breath, Lin Zhan centered himself. He felt the Qi flowing through him, his connection to the world around him. He reached out, not to the crystal, but to the power within himself. Slowly, he began to channel the energy, focusing it into a single point. The temperature around him began to rise as the power surged through him.
The creatures recoiled as Lin Zhan released a burst of concentrated Qi. The shockwave sent them flying back, their forms disintegrating into nothingness. The dark crystal’s glow faltered, its pulse slowing.
The man gave a small nod of approval. “Good. But this is only the first trial. There will be more.”
Lin Zhan didn’t answer. He was too focused on the altar. He had felt it—the connection between the crystal and the power inside him. He could sense the truth now. The Undead Monarch’s power wasn’t just a curse—it was a part of him. He had to control it, or it would control him.
The chamber around them began to shift again, and the altar’s stone surface cracked open, revealing a hidden passage beneath. The whispers grew louder, and Lin Zhan could feel a presence—something ancient, something waiting.
The trials were far from over.
To be continued…
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