Chapter 103: Chapter 103: Breath of Stone
The light struck them like a balm and a blade. Warmth poured across their faces, banishing the subterranean chill from their limbs—yet it bore no comfort. Rather, it carried the sting of revelation, of something lost and now uncovered.
As they crossed the fractured threshold, the ruin’s cold breath behind them gave way to the pulse of open air. Before them sprawled a hollowed ravine, a crevasse so vast it seemed carved by the hand of a grieving god.
Sunlight streamed down from jagged heights above, where clouds snagged on stone teeth, but far below, the abyss stirred with mist and shadow—an ocean of silence. The passage of time had not affected the surroundings of this place.
This subspace, this cleft of the earth, bore the marks of agelessness. It had been centuries since living humans had wandered this place, and that was evident in the state of everything.
A narrow bridge stretched from the mouth of the ruin, a single span of stone poised above the yawning void. Its edges curved slightly, and it glimmered with dust too fine for nature’s hand. Mist clung to the lower rocks like mourners to a tomb.
Leng Yue stepped first, her stance measured, eyes flickering across the path. She paused after three steps.
"These stones appear stable," she said, voice clipped and wary. "It seems this is the only way forward."
Beneath her feet, the stone bore etchings—serpentine lines flowing like water or veins. The designs twisted into one another, a silent language unreadable yet undeniably deliberate. She crouched, fingers brushing a symbol that resembled an open eye curled in repose.
"I still do not recognize any of this dialect," she murmured. "Could it be beast-script? Or some early geomancer’s code?"
"Trap or trail," Li Wei said behind her. "Let us treat it as both."
He stepped into her shadow, his robes fluttering slightly with his movement. His hand hovered near the fold of his garment, where talismans rested—flat, layered, and inert like snakes in dry grass. His third eye pulsed faintly behind his brow. Though dulled from overuse, it caught the shimmer of energy ahead—five faint silhouettes at the bridge’s far edge. Watching. Unmoving.
Midway across the bridge, the silence changed. A low rumble trembled beneath them—not mechanical, but living. A shift in breath.
Leng Yue turned her head slowly. "This place appears to draw breath."
"More than that," Li Wei said, slowing his steps. "It listens."
The air grew heavy. Even the mist below seemed to hold its breath.
Then—
~CRACK~
From the place where the silhouettes loomed, a fissure split the path. Not random, not fractured by age—but opened, as if by invitation. Steam hissed upward from the breach. ~hsssss~ The stench was sulfurous and cloying—the scent of molten ore and something darker: old blood baked dry.
Leng Yue’s hand gripped the hilt of her blade. "I do not like where this is going," she muttered. "We may have to—"
But the path changed again.
Beyond the bridge, the cliffs parted like curtains. A garden emerged—scarred and overgrown, yet unmistakably cultivated.
Stone lanterns stood shattered, half-buried in moss. Crimson-leaved trees twisted upwards, their roots exposed like broken bones. Pools of silver water lay still, untouched by breeze or beast. The very air held the weight of stillness, as if centuries had passed without a single footfall.
As they stepped from the bridge, the silhouettes—creatures of mist and ether—gave a final hiss and dispersed into the overgrowth. Leaves fluttered down in their wake. ~shhhhh~
Li Wei moved toward one of the broken lanterns. Dust powdered his fingers as he brushed it away. "Jadefire make," he said. "See the seal-line here? Only found in ritual sanctums. Rare. Sacred."
Leng Yue had already knelt near one of the strange trees. Her hand hovered above a fallen petal—long, faded silk-red with a subtle golden edge.
"These come from the Huangjing Province," she said. "Near the Celestial Steppe. Far from here."
Her voice held something rare—unease. During her time on this continent, she had charted many lands, but never one like this.
They exchanged a glance.
This was no ruin.
This was a forgotten court—sealed in silence, preserved like a memory that refused to decay.
Then—movement.
A rustle stirred the underbrush behind the trees.
No hesitation.
Leng Yue’s blade sang from its sheath. ~shhhh~ Li Wei’s fingers flashed—two talismans leaping to life in his grip. Glyphs flared a gentle green, pulsing in rhythm with his breath.
They waited.
But nothing lunged. No claws scraped. No breath growled.
Only... a feather.
It drifted down slowly, impossibly large. White as first snow, with a golden spine that shimmered with hidden light. It turned mid-air, caught in a current they could not feel.
Leng Yue reached up and caught it. The feather was warm.
"This..." her voice tightened. "This is from no bird I know."
Li Wei’s eyes scanned the trees. "Then we are not the first to walk this path..."
He turned, eyes narrowing.
"Let us ensure we are not the last to leave it."
Leng Yue kept the feather clutched in her palm as they moved deeper into the garden. Its warmth did not wane. Rather, it pulsed gently, like the heartbeat of something still dreaming. She did not sheath her blade.
The path before them was ill-defined, swallowed in places by encroaching roots and moss-covered stone. Lanterns leaned askew, their once-sacred fires long extinguished. And yet... the silence here was too perfect. Not empty, but curated. Like a room prepared for guests who never arrived.
"Li Wei," she murmured. "Do you feel it? The air here—" The young maiden frowned slightly, clearly distressed by the sudden turn of events.
"—is too still," he finished, frowning. "The trees should move. Even the water should stir."
They paused near a half-buried stone basin. Its surface, silver-slick and mirror-clear, reflected neither their faces nor the sky above. Instead, it showed a garden whole and alive—unbroken lanterns, blooming trees, monks in flowing robes passing quietly through the paths.
Leng Yue leaned closer.
~drip~
A single petal fell into the basin.