No celebration. No rest.

  Leaden weight settled in his marrow. His bones were heavy iron. Only an hour had passed since the

  battle at the Sun God’s temple, but an age of exhaustion had clawed its way into them. They

  lurched from the temple’s corpse, leaning on one another, into a wind that scoured the flesh from

  their bones.

  He took the lead. The Sun God’s legacy burned behind his eyes, a map of fire branded into his

  skull. Every step was a new scream from the brand, denying him breath, denying him peace. Faster.

  He's already there. A cold stone of certainty sat in his gut: the Black Robe Demon General and his

  horde were ahead.

  “We have to go faster,” Ke Munan rasped, the words tearing from his raw throat.

  “Your wound…” Luo Han’s voice, rough as gravel.

  A glance down. The bandage on his arm, a dark, wet bloom of crimson.

  “I’m fine.” He shook his head, a firestorm flaring in his eyes. “Stopping is the real death.”

  They bled a day and a night onto the path. A forced march. The sun-bleached flagstones of the

  temple gave way to mountain rock that shattered under their boots, which in turn dissolved into a

  swamp that sucked and clawed at their legs. Stamina frayed. It snapped.

  Only Krupp was tireless. A black blur of motion. One head circled high above, a speck of ink against a

  bruised sky. The other skimmed the terrain, its unnatural sight piercing the shadows for traps.

  Dawn of the second day broke them against the shore of a vast, dead lake.

  The water was a still sheet of ink-green, choked with the skeletal fingers of dead trees. No ripple. No

  whisper of life. In its center, the tip of a pitch-black tower stabbed the sky, a shard of malice that

  drove a spike of ice into their weary bones.

  “The entrance to the ‘Labyrinth Beneath the Lake’?” Jin Gan’s mechanical arm whirred, a low

  groan of fatigue. “The black tower… it’s real.”

  Jin Luo knelt, water dripping from his cupped hands. His face, already a grim landscape, hardened to

  stone. “Poison. Saturated with an energy black as the Void.”

  As they stood, frozen by indecision, a glyph of golden light ignited over the lake’s heart. A resonant

  hum vibrated through Ke Munan’s entire being, the Sun God’s power flaring in his chest like a

  newborn star.

  “The Sun God’s seal,” he breathed.

  He strode to the water’s edge, Crystal Staff raised. The new, wild power of the sun poured from

  him. A thread of pure gold spun from the staff’s tip, scorching a pattern on the ground identical to

  the seal on the lake. The light was faint. It flickered with his exhaustion. His body convulsed, the

  strain threatening to shatter him.

  Don’t fail. Not now.

  Hands clamped onto his shoulders. A sudden torrent of power—not his own—surged into him. His

  companions, pouring their last embers into his fire.

  The golden light erupted. The sacred power blasted the poisoned water into steam, carving a

  bottomless vortex into the lakebed that churned with a silent, terrible fury.

  The vortex vomited them onto cold stone.

  Water and pressure ripped away, replaced by a crushing silence. He gasped, lungs burning, the air

  thick with the dust of ages. The echoes of their own ragged breaths hammered against the vast, dark

  space.

  “Bro… look.” Jin Gan’s voice was a choked whisper. A single golden needle slipped from his

  numb fingers, its clatter against the stone an obscenity in the stillness.

  One by one, they followed his gaze. The exhaustion dissolved, burned away by awe.

  A city slept under the water. A corpse-city. Vast. Silent. Impossibly whole. Ghost-light bled from

  crystals embedded in the cavern roof, illuminating chessboard streets and a lone, mottled statue

  standing sentinel in a distant square.

  “We… succeeded?” Alanka’s voice was a dry rasp.

  His gaze locked onto the pitch-black spire in the city’s heart. “The black tower. The Primordial

  Pearl is inside. We can’t let the Demon Clan have it.”

  “The scale… its defensive grid…” Jin Luo’s voice was strained, his mind already dissecting the

  tactical nightmare before them. “If the Demon Clan fortifies this city… the world will burn.”

  Luo Han said nothing. Knuckles cracked like splintering rock as his fists clenched. His eyes swept

  every shadow, every dark corner, muscles coiled into granite.

  Ke Munan stared at the tower. A sudden tightness seized his chest. His hand flew to his heart,

  fingertips brushing the Golden Leaf Amulet. It was warm. The pull intensified, a silent summons from

  within the spire.

  Ya Mei’s fingers dug into his arm, a grip of surprising steel. Her face was a bloodless mask, her

  purple eyes wide with a terror that stole his breath. A trembling hand traced two frantic words in the

  air: IT’S ALIVE.

  A scrape. Sharp. Distant. Like a giant nail dragged across rock.

  The sound multiplied. Merged. A piercing metallic cacophony clawed at his ears.

  Then, in the far darkness, a single point of red light ignited.

  A second. A third. Ten. A hundred. A thousand. The red lights spread like a blood plague, closing in

  from every street, every alley, every window.

  “Something’s wrong!” Huang Xiaohu’s cry was sharp with panic. “This isn’t a patrol—the

  entire city is waking up!”

  Heavy, synchronized footsteps began to shake the earth. Dust, undisturbed for millennia, rained

  from the dome, a gray snow on their tense faces. Twisted puppets swarmed from the streets. They

  crawled from the windows of silent buildings. They scaled down walls. The dead city became a

  three-dimensional iron cage, and they were the bait.

  “Bro,” Jin Gan’s voice was tight with the metallic tang of fear, “there are too many.”

  “On guard!” Ke Munan gripped his Crystal Staff, its crystal cold against his palm. “Jin brothers,

  left flank! Huang Xiaohu, from the sky! Ya Mei, Alanka, cover! Luo Han—”

  “Leave it to him.”

  Luo Han was a blur of motion. His longsword, wreathed in the molten power of Fire and Earth,

  carved a brutal arc into the chest of the foremost puppet.

  BANG!

  The puppet’s chest imploded. It only staggered. An instant later, the shattered fragments twisted,

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  morphing into razor-sharp spikes that shot back at Luo Han’s face.

  He threw himself back, a bloody gash erupting on his cheek. He wiped the blood with the back of his

  hand, his face a grim mask. “They don’t die.”

  “The forehead!” Jin Luo’s voice was a blade, cutting through the chaos. “The rune is glowing!”

  Ke Munan brandished his staff. “Suppress it together!”

  Luo Han charged again, a shield of spiritual power erupting to swallow the impact. Huang Xiaohu

  dove, a storm of wind blades slashing at the puppet’s knee and elbow joints. A piercing metallic

  screech. The puppet’s movements stuttered.

  “Now!” Jin Luo commanded.

  Jin Gan’s Star-chasing Needles hissed through the air. They buried themselves in the puppet’s

  ankle. It stumbled.

  Ke Munan was already there.

  The Crystal Staff blazed. Golden light, pure and absolute. Its tip struck the rune.

  Zzzzz—!

  The red light flickered. It convulsed. It died. The puppet froze mid-stride and crashed to the ground,

  a heap of dead metal.

  “THE FOREHEADS!” Ke Munan roared, the command ripping from his lungs.

  The tide of battle turned. A brutal dance began. Jin Luo’s mind, a razor-sharp metronome. Jin

  Gan’s needles, a silver storm. Huang Xiaohu, a golden hawk of vengeance from above. Luo Han, an

  unbreakable wall of earth and fire. Ya Mei and Alanka, a rearguard of water and stone. The puppets

  began to fall.

  RUMBLE…

  The ground trembled. A roar, deep and resonant as a dying earth, echoed from the black tower.

  Everyone froze.

  A shadow detached itself from the black tower. It grew. It resolved into a shape of pure menace.

  Three stories tall. The earth shuddered with each step. Blood-red runes writhed across its black

  armor like open wounds. It clutched a warhammer of impossible size, its head weeping a viscous,

  pitch-black fluid.

  “No…” Alanka’s voice trembled, shattering. “The City-Guarding Puppet…”

  The giant raised its head. Two clusters of crimson light burned in its eye sockets, a gaze as cold and

  absolute as death.

  Jin Gan’s legs turned to water. Huang Xiaohu took a step back, an involuntary retreat.

  The puppet raised its warhammer. The movement was slow. Deliberate. A ritual of annihilation.

  “SCATTER!” Ke Munan bellowed.

  BOOM—!

  The hammer fell. The world became liquid stone. A shockwave tore the air, shattering flagstones into

  shrapnel, toppling buildings, ripping the smaller puppets apart like paper dolls.

  The ground threw him. He twisted, hit hard, bones jarring but steady.

  “This power…” Jin Luo shoved his crooked glasses up his nose, his voice strained. “It’s beyond

  calculation.”

  “It’s huge. Its turn is slow,” Ke Munan said, his eyes locked on the behemoth. “We—”

  The puppet took a step.

  The entire square trembled.

  The runes on its body ignited. The air grew thick, a physical weight pressing down, crushing the

  breath from his lungs.

  Jin Gan was shaking. Huang Xiaohu’s golden wings were clamped tight to his back. Beads of sweat

  cut paths through the grime on Luo Han’s forehead.

  No one retreated.

  “All together!” Ke Munan shouted.

  The puppet raised its hammer. Its burning gaze fixed on Luo Han.

  “Spread out!”

  They leaped. The warhammer crashed down, gouging a crater in the stone, sending shrapnel

  screaming through the air. Jin Gan dodged, hauled to his feet by Jin Luo. The warhammer swept

  horizontally. Huang Xiaohu tumbled through the air, a breath away from obliteration.

  Ya Mei’s hands wove a sign. Blades of blue light shot toward the puppet’s joints.

  Clang. Clang. Clang—

  Sparks flew. The armor was unscratched.

  He watched, dodging, analyzing. The turn. The massive body swiveling. A fractional pause—

  “A delay when it turns!” he yelled. “Jin Luo!”

  “Zero-point-seven seconds!” The answer was instantaneous.

  Huang Xiaohu’s voice from above. “I’ll take the left, you take the right!”

  “Covering.” Ya Mei’s gesture, a flash of grim determination.

  “Front is mine,” Luo Han stated, planting his feet like ancient oaks.

  “MOVE!”

  Jin Gan charged, mechanical arm flaring with silver light. The puppet swiveled. The warhammer

  crashed down.

  “Left!”

  Jin Gan dove. Huang Xiaohu swept in from the opposite flank, his golden wings a blinding flash

  against the puppet’s optical sensors.

  As the behemoth began to turn, Alanka slammed her palms together. “Chains of Time and Space!”

  Transparent chains erupted from the ground, wrapping around the puppet’s limbs, groaning with

  the strain.

  He saw it. The opening. The puppet’s right knee—as it turned, a gap in the armor’s joint.

  He dashed forward.

  The Crystal Staff flared gold. Its tip plunged into the gap. Golden energy surged through the internal

  circuits.

  Crack—

  The puppet’s right leg buckled. Its massive body lurched. But it dropped to one knee, using it as a

  pivot, and swung the warhammer in a devastating horizontal arc.

  Luo Han lunged, tackling Jin Gan to the ground. The warhammer screamed over their heads, the

  wind of its passage tearing Luo Han’s tunic.

  The armor on the puppet’s chest clicked open. Not machinery. A swirling vortex of darkness, alive

  with twisting runes.

  “Black Abyss Devourer!” Alanka’s cry was a shard of horror.

  Countless pitch-black beams shot out, tearing the air, leaving black fissures in their wake.

  Ya Mei reacted. A barrier of blue light materialized. The black beams slammed into it. She shuddered,

  a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth as cracks spiderwebbed across the shield.

  “Now!” Jin Luo shouted, as Alanka’s chains strained, slowing the puppet’s motion.

  “Twin Resonance!”

  Jin Gan grasped his brother’s hand. Their Metal powers merged, twisting into a spiraling silver

  spear of light.

  The barrier shattered.

  “ATTACK THE CORE!” Ke Munan roared.

  Luo Han charged, his body erupting in flames, a meteor meeting the storm of dark beams. The Jin

  brothers’ spiraling spear shot forth. Huang Xiaohu dove, wind blades concentrated into his talons.

  Ke Munan raised his Crystal Staff. Every last drop of the Sun God’s power blazed at its tip.

  Four attacks. One target. One moment.

  BOOM—!!

  A shockwave of raw power tore through the city. The dark formation disintegrated.

  The puppet let out a mournful, grinding cry. Its body trembled. In the smoking hole in its chest, a

  fist-sized black crystal pulsed, a dying heart.

  No hesitation. He thrust his Crystal Staff into it.

  Crack.

  The crystal shattered. The City-Guarding Puppet crashed to the ground.

  Silence descended, broken only by the ragged, desperate sound of panting.

  “Did we… win?” Jin Gan collapsed, his limbs giving out.

  No one answered. They gasped for air, leaning on their knees, lying on the rubble, their bodies

  screaming a silent chorus of agony.

  he did not sit. His gaze went past the puppet’s wreckage to the black tower that loomed, a silent

  victor, in the center of the square.

  “It’s not over,” he said, the words like stones in his mouth. “The tower.”

  Jin Luo surveyed the field of inert puppets. “The core is destroyed. The others are just metal.”

  Ya Mei held up a piece of talisman paper. A single word, brushed with a trembling hand:

  “Together.”

  They gathered their gear. They made for the tower. The few puppets they encountered wandered

  aimlessly, their movements chaotic and slow, and were dispatched with a single, weary blow.

  The great door of the black tower was sealed, a complex web of runes crawling across its surface.

  “A multiple-layer seal,” Alanka murmured, her eyes tracing the patterns. “The wrong sequence

  will spring a death trap.”

  Ke Munan stepped forward. The Sun God’s power stirred, a warm current responding to the ancient

  stones. He pressed his palm against the door. Golden light seeped from his fingers, flowing along

  the runic lines. They lit up, one by one, flashing in a forgotten sequence before extinguishing all at

  once.

  With a low groan, the door rumbled open.

  The space inside was a lie, far larger than the outside suggested. A spiral staircase clung to the wall,

  ascending into absolute darkness. A faint beam of light from the dome above cut a single path

  through the floating dust. Utter silence, save for the echo of their own footsteps, a drumbeat in the

  tomb.

  The story was carved in stone. Murals covered the walls. A city of the Divine Race consumed by fire.

  Demonic things clawing through the ruins. He saw the silent screams of the fleeing, the defiant

  stance of a lone golden figure facing an ocean of darkness.

  The Sun God.

  “The one opposite him… the Demon Lord,” Jin Luo observed, his voice hushed. “They fought

  here.”

  The higher they climbed, the more horrific the images became. Fields of bodies. Rivers of blood. Jin

  Gan had to turn away, a choked sound in his throat.

  “A sound,” Huang Xiaohu said suddenly, his head cocked.

  A strange whisper drifted from the top of the tower. An ancient incantation. A groan of unending

  pain.

  At the top of the stairs: a stone door. Featureless, save for a single, palm-shaped indentation. The

  Sun God’s power pulsed in his blood. He pressed his hand into the recess. A warm current flowed

  from the stone. The door glowed and slowly swung inward.

  A circular hall.

  In the center floated a massive crystal sphere. Six smaller orbs of light orbited it: silver-white,

  emerald green, azure blue, crimson red, earth yellow, and one that shone with a warm, golden

  radiance. The Five Elements, and the sun that commanded them.

  “The Primordial Pearl!” Jin Luo pushed his glasses up, his voice tight with a feverish excitement.

  “We found it!”

  He stared at the sphere. Identical to the one from his inherited memories. We beat them. We won.

  In a corner of the hall, several black cocoons, bound by golden chains, trembled.

  “Sealed demons.” Alanka’s face was a mask of shadow. “The seal is weakening.”

  His gaze flickered from the crystal sphere to the cocoons. “It will break,” he said, his voice hard as

  flint. “Better to know now than to wait for death.”

  They formed a circle. Jin Luo and Jin Gan before the silver-white Metal orb. Huang Xiaohu before the

  emerald green Wood orb, the power in his Golden Wing bloodline making his feathers ruffle. Ya Mei

  before the azure blue Water orb. Luo Han, a silent mountain, before the crimson red Fire orb. Alanka

  before the earth-yellow orb of her people.

  He walked to the golden orb. The Sun God’s legacy. Not an element, but the power that ruled

  them.

  “Inject your power. All at once. Stay synchronized,” he ordered.

  “Understood!”

  “Wait!” Jin Luo shouted. “This sphere isn’t just memory—it’s the power source for the seal!

  Activating it will drain the system. The seal will shatter!”

  His eyes snapped to the trembling cocoons. “It was already dying,” he decided. “Hurry.”

  “Three, two, one, begin!”

  Six streams of energy flowed into the orbs. They spun into a blur of light. A kaleidoscope of images

  erupted within the Primordial Pearl. The entire tower began to shake, the sealing runes on the walls

  flickering like dying embers.

  “It’s working!” Alanka shouted.

  Crack—

  The cocoons convulsed. The runes on their surfaces dimmed. Ya Mei gestured frantically, snatching a

  brush, scrawling on a talisman: “We’re agitating them!”

  The first cocoon split. A pale, scaled arm, tipped with bladelike nails, clawed its way out.

  “Faster!” Ke Munan gritted his teeth, forcing more power into the orb.

  The orbs spun to their maximum speed. The crystal sphere chimed, a clear, resonant note, and the

  images converged into a pillar of light that shot towards the ceiling.

  At the same time, the first demon broke free—a humanoid creature covered in scales, with leathery

  wings and eyes of burning blood. It shrieked and lunged at Huang Xiaohu.

  He dodged, losing a spray of golden feathers. His eyes darted to the runes on the wall. “These

  runes… I’ve seen them! A secret report from the Elder Council!”

  “What?”

  “A month ago… an abnormal fluctuation in the far north. Elder Chaya went to investigate—and

  vanished! The last pattern he sent back was identical to this!”

  Ke Munan’s fingers tightened on his staff. A ruin from four thousand years ago… and someone

  knows its secrets.

  CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

  More cocoons burst. Giant bats. Tentacled horrors.

  “Bro!” Jin Gan spun, his mechanical arm glowing an overloaded red. “I’ll hold them!” He

  charged into the swarm.

  Huang Xiaohu gritted his teeth, spread his golden wings, and followed.

  “The energy won’t hold!” Jin Luo yelled. “Thirty seconds, max!”

  “Hold on!” Ke Munan forced the power out, his vision blurring at the edges.

  Jin Gan and Huang Xiaohu fought like cornered beasts, buying seconds with their blood. Alanka’s

  face was ashen. Luo Han was a silent statue of strain. Sweat dripped from Ya Mei’s chin.

  Krupp fluttered on his shoulder, whimpering, its eyes glowing a warning red.

  The crystal sphere erupted. The images didn’t flood his mind—they tore it open.

  He was there. The divine realm, at peace. The Sun God stood with the others.

  “The prophecy has appeared,” a voice of thunder. “The divine realm will be torn asunder.”

  “We must prevent it,” the Sun God’s voice, a deep, resonant bell.

  The scene shattered. The Cold Disease. A plague of ice on the soul. The light of the gods dimmed.

  Beneath the Sacred Tree, their divine power drained away. Their eternal lives ended.

  A choice.

  Some became Guardians, souls returning to the tree. Some became Transformers, relinquishing

  divinity to become the ancestors of humanity.

  But some were unwilling to fade.

  *A god plunged a hand into a brother’s chest.

  A goddess wept tears of blood. And a crack, black and terrible, tore open the sky.