The fire had long died to embers, their glow pulsing like the heartbeat of a dying beast. Yul slept lightly, twitching at every sound. Jinhwan leaned against the cavern wall, breathing deep but not quite peaceful. Tae Hyun sat alone at the edge of the shallow stream carving through the underground chamber, knees folded, eyes closed, his body still but taut with intent.
The system's directive echoed in his skull.
> "Meditate in isolation for 6 uninterrupted hours…"
He shut everything out. The sound of water. The rustling of stone. The memory of torn flesh and hollow eyes.
He plunged inward.
Darkness met him—not the absence of light, but a depth so infinite it pressed against his mind. A vast, cold sea of shadow. Within it danced cinders—tiny, defiant sparks flickering like stars.
And then… pain.
Raw, searing pain surged through his meridians. A scream clawed up his throat, but he bit down, blood dripping from his lip. His qi pulsed erratically, as if resisting the fusion of these two warring forces.
Shadow devours. Flame consumes.
How could they coexist?
He visualized it—his body a vessel, half cloaked in black mist, half engulfed in slow-burning flame. When shadow moved, the flame followed. When fire surged, the darkness curled around it. A dance of annihilation and preservation.
His breath steadied. The pain didn't fade—it refined.
Somewhere deep inside, two rivers converged. They twisted into one another, not merging, but spiraling. A helix of chaos and control. Of heat and void.
> System Notification:
Meditation Complete.
Progressing to Stage Two…
> New Task: Envelop one enemy in pure shadow without extinguishing their life force.
Tae Hyun opened his eyes.
And saw three glowing pairs of eyes staring at him from the tunnel beyond.
Wolves.
Not a pack—just scouts. But perfect for the next test.
He stood silently and moved forward.
---
The wolves didn't growl. They didn't charge. These were not the frenzied beasts from before—these were watchers, intelligent, their eyes reflecting the low glimmer of bioluminescent moss.
Tae Hyun raised a hand.
Shadow burst from beneath his feet like ink dropped into water. It coiled up his legs, down his arms, and gathered in his palms, forming a swirling orb of weightless night. It wasn't destructive. It was cold, calm… hungry.
He moved forward with quiet steps.
One wolf lunged.
Instead of dodging, Tae Hyun pressed his palm to its snout.
The shadow surged—not with violence, but with control. It wrapped the beast in layers of spiraling tendrils, cocooning it in utter stillness.
The wolf didn't die. It didn't even fall unconscious. It just… stopped. Frozen in time, entranced in fear or awe, Tae Hyun couldn't tell.
> Objective Complete: Envelop one enemy in pure shadow…
> Initiating Final Task:
Ignite flame without fire. Fuel it with will, not oxygen.
The shadow around his hand receded, and the wolf collapsed, panting, but alive.
Tae Hyun exhaled.
One more trial.
He returned to the chamber. Jinhwan stirred but didn't wake. Yul remained motionless, though her brow twitched slightly—haunted even in sleep.
Tae Hyun sat again, hands before him.
He closed his eyes and thought not of sparks, not of combustion… but of rage.
Rage for the ones he lost. For Ji-eun's final scream. For Dae-sik's unmoving corpse. For every damn time he had to crawl forward when no one was left to pull him.
His chest ached. His spirit trembled.
A spark ignited—not on his fingers, but in the center of his chest.
It was not red, nor orange.
It was violet.
A cold flame—beautiful and terrible—rose from his palm.
> System Notification
Shadowflame Vein Activated.
Passive Skill Unlocked: Embers of the Abyss (Lv.1) – Slightly enhances qi regeneration when enveloped in darkness or near death.
Tae Hyun smiled bitterly. Not out of joy, but clarity.
Tomorrow, he would train again.
But tonight… he had seen what lay at the core of him.
Shadow. Flame. Will.
---
The stale air thickened as they descended.
Beyond the chamber where they had regrouped and rested, a narrow crevice veiled by stalactites opened into a cavernous tunnel that sloped further underground. With only flickering torchlight and faint, glowing moss to guide them, the trio moved in silence, their footsteps echoing like whispers of ancient ghosts.
The deeper they went, the colder it became—not the kind of cold that bites the skin, but one that seeps into the bones, into memory.
After what felt like hours of descent, they arrived at an ancient stone gate embedded in the rock. Strange runes curled along its surface, faded but legible, and flanked by massive statues of cloaked figures with draconic features etched into their robes.
Tae Hyun stepped forward, his shadow-fueled perception prickling.
The gate stood open, as if awaiting their arrival.
Inside, the path split into a series of vaulted corridors. Carvings lined the walls, telling stories in winding reliefs. At first glance, they appeared as mere murals—but when touched, they pulsed faintly, as if the stone remembered.
Jinhwan lit a secondary torch and walked alongside one of the carvings. "This isn't just art. It's history."
They stopped before a massive panel stretching across the wall like a tapestry of stone. It depicted a city built into a great underground canyon, with towering spires and bridges carved from obsidian. Thousands knelt before a massive, serpent-like dragon with wings made of flame and shadow. Above it all was a sigil—a spiral of flame coiled around an eye of darkness.
At its base, an inscription in archaic script translated itself before Tae Hyun's eyes, courtesy of the system's silent assistance:
> "From the Abyss it rose. The Dragon Who Devours Light. We are its kin. Its blood runs through us. We, the Vein of the Abyssal Dragon, shall reign eternal beneath the earth, where truth lies unblinded."
Jinhwan muttered under his breath, "A theocracy…"
Yul froze.
Only for a moment—but it was enough.
Tae Hyun caught the faint tremble in her breath. The way her eyes widened ever so slightly, before returning to their usual calm.
She said nothing.
He didn't push her, but he filed it away. That reaction—it wasn't confusion. It was recognition.
The carvings continued: scenes of conquest, of cities falling beneath storms of fire and darkness, of worshippers drinking from blood-filled chalices, of children born with black-scaled skin.
And finally, a rebellion. A war between surface dwellers and the Abyssal Faith. The last panel showed the dragon wounded, its body entombed beneath the earth by seven glowing seals.
The city fell silent after that.
They moved forward, deeper into the ruin. The stone beneath their feet shifted, transitioning from rough rock to polished black marble, untouched by dust or time. The air buzzed faintly with old qi—traces of something ancient, preserved.
The hallway ended at a great antechamber.
A single figure stood at its center.
An armored knight, at least nine feet tall, stood motionless. Its armor was a fusion of obsidian and bone, wrapped in ethereal chains. Its helm was faceless, bearing only the carved spiral sigil of the Abyssal Dragon. In one hand, it held a greatsword etched with runes that shimmered faintly, and in the other, a tattered banner.
As they stepped forward, the knight's head tilted. The chains snapped taut—and then loosened.
Its sword lifted.
And without a word, it charged.
To be continued…