Beneath the vaults of the Celestial Archive, where even the winds whispered in restraint, a forgotten chamber stirred. There, suspended in a time-worn stasis seal, floated a single quill—a feather from the Crimson Sky Roc, dipped once in Yan Zhuo's blood.
The seal cracked.
Lines of scripture began to write themselves across the chamber's walls.
"Return... the vow... the flame... the betrayal... the fifth shall awaken."
Ten Years Ago
The Azure Blossom Sect Pavilion.
Petals danced through twilight as the five stood facing one another beneath the lotus-lantern canopy. Yan Zhuo, barely in his early thirties, stood in the center. His eyes—resolute yet tired—spoke of too many wars.
To his left stood Yu Meilan, the Sect Matron of Azure Blossom, robed in moon-silver and wreathed in qi so gentle it could lull a spirit beast to sleep.
Next, the blind Shen Wu, his flute silent but heart thunderous.
Beside him, a swordswoman in black robes with streaks of red flame—Xu Feiyan, once the burning edge of justice in the Southern Reaches, now a fugitive.
And last, the healer-saint turned oath-breaker, Lu Chengwei.
Yan Zhuo raised his hand. In it, a lotus forged from spirit jade, each petal carved with their names.
"This is the Heartswept Pact. We vow:
To never raise arms for self-glory,
To protect the unguarded,
To bear the sins others will not,
To vanish when the work is done."
They each placed a drop of blood upon the lotus.
Five flames flared.
And the stars above flickered.
Now
The Celestial Doctrine did not speak of such vows.
Yan Zhuo walked alone beneath the crumbling arches of the ruined Pavilion. Spirits lingered, murmuring memories through wind and petal.
He reached the center, where once they stood.
Only ash remained of the spirit jade lotus.
His hand trembled.
"Am I the only one left?" he asked the ghosts.
Meanwhile, Yue Lian and Shen Wu descended into the tombs beneath Mirror Shell Isle. The walls pulsed with ancient formation energy.
The third name awaited.
Xu Feiyan.
Her tomb was not one of death—but of punishment.
Sealed away for defying an edict of the Heavenly Court, she had not perished.
She had waited.
When they opened the gate, flames spilled forth like a phoenix's breath.
And from the smoke stepped Xu Feiyan, her eyes like embers.
"I was wondering which ghost would come first."
Yue Lian bowed deeply. "The pact is stirring."
Feiyan narrowed her gaze. "And Yan Zhuo?"
"Alive."
Feiyan laughed bitterly. "Then heaven help us all."
Back in Frostvale, General Yun struggled to maintain order. Rumors spread like wild lightning—of Yan Zhuo healing plague-ridden villages in secret, of beasts bowing before him, of relics waking in his presence.
His advisors demanded action.
"Crush the sentiment before it becomes belief."
Yun turned to the frozen mural of his youth, where five friends once stood beneath a waterfall.
He said nothing.
But at night, he walked alone to the edge of the citadel, holding a wrapped jade flute—broken, unused for decades.
In Verdant Radiance City, the Imperial Oracle stood before the Silver Judges.
"Do you remember what you did, Tian Mu?"
Tian Mu said nothing.
The Oracle held up a shattered mirror.
"It showed his truth once. You broke it. And now the shards are returning."
Yan Zhuo ventured deeper into the Central Heavens.
There, in the city of Lianhua, he met the first priest who dared bow.
Not out of fear.
Out of reverence.
"I saw you as a child," the priest said. "You burned down the heavens to protect one village. They called it madness. I called it mercy."
Yan Zhuo said, "I failed."
The priest shook his head. "You chose the world over the laws. We are just now learning what that means."
Elsewhere, Lu Chengwei stood at the edge of the Sea Oracle's Circle, torn by regret.
The fourth would soon awaken.
And with him, the memories of the betrayal none of them had dared voice.
The fifth had yet to be named.
But deep in the Forbidden North, where even the spirits feared to wander, something pulsed beneath the Coffin Spiral.
Not a man.
Not a beast.
But the pact's last guardian.
Waiting.
And the sky, long silent, remembered the taste of blood.