"Once you enter the Abyssal Ruins, do not wander aimlessly. Avoid all other areas—just head straight to the designated place," Yun Yuannan instructed with a solemn tone.

  "Once the task is done, retrace your steps exactly as you came. Don’t waste time, and above all, do not stray from the path."

  His gaze then shifted to Han and the others. "On the way, Yun'er will explain the situation to you. There’s no need for concern."

  With that, Yun Yuannan sent them off, remaining behind in the forest to wait.

  Han and his group left the dense woods and stepped into the Abyssal Ruins.

  A stifling pressure immediately descended upon them—heavy, oppressive.

  The moment they entered, it felt as if an invisible weight had settled upon their shoulders, dragging their spirits down into an inexplicable gloom.

  Passing through the faint red mist, an eerie chill ran through their bodies, creeping into their bones.

  Han felt an unsettling sensation, as if unseen eyes were watching him from all directions, whispering in hushed voices, discussing him in secret.

  Surveying the surroundings, there was not a single trace of life—only desolation, endless and boundless.

  Then—

  Boom!

  A sudden clap of thunder rumbled across the sky. Moments later, crimson raindrops began to fall—thick, heavy, like drops of blood.

  As soon as the rain touched the ground, it evaporated instantly, merging with the mist and vanishing back into the sky.

  A gust of wind howled through the ruins, carrying with it a ghostly wail, growing louder and louder—like the cries of a thousand restless souls.

  In the far distance, a raging flood surged unnaturally upward into the heavens, defying gravity.

  In another direction, a violent storm had formed—a whirlwind of countless white bones spiraling into the sky, a tempest of death.

  "This place is… unnatural," Bai Ruoyue whispered, too afraid to raise her voice, as if even the slightest disturbance might awaken something lurking in the ruins.

  Just as she finished speaking, a human skull rolled toward them, carried by the wind. It landed with a hollow clatter, its empty sockets staring directly at them.

  Shen Yu swallowed hard and instinctively clung to Bai Ruoyue’s arm.

  As they moved on, the skull, as if possessed, twisted slightly—watching them leave.

  "Have you ever been here before?" Han asked Yun Yun softly.

  She shook her head. "No. This isn’t a place one can enter freely. It only opens under specific conditions."

  "What kind of conditions?"

  "I don't know. It’s a Yun family secret—only the clan leader is privy to it."

  "The place we’re heading to is called the Celestial Hall. According to my father, it opens once every few years, allowing outsiders to enter."

  "Once inside, we’ll be separated. Each of us will have our own trials to face, and we won’t reunite until they’re over."

  So, this wasn’t a competition among them after all.

  "In the Celestial Hall, our trials are based on strength. If we perform well, we’ll be rewarded, though the nature of the rewards isn’t fixed."

  "As for what we’ll face inside…"

  Yun Yun went on to explain what little the Yun family had uncovered about the Celestial Hall. Despite their generations of research, they only had a fragmented understanding of its mysteries.

  Han listened thoughtfully. The Celestial Hall… could it be connected to the fabled Heavenly Fate Sect?

  The Mountain Deity had resided in the Black Mountains for centuries, so close to the Abyssal Ruins. It was entirely possible that it had discovered something of significance.

  Whatever lay ahead, this was undoubtedly an opportunity—one Han owed to the Yun family and the Mountain Deity alike.

  The journey from the forest to the Celestial Hall was only a few dozen miles. Under normal circumstances, they could have covered the distance in mere moments.

  But in this treacherous land, they advanced with utmost caution.

  Suddenly—

  Crack!

  The ground split open before them, the fissure widening into a gaping chasm in the blink of an eye.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Yun Yun, who had been leading the way, stepped into thin air, teetering on the edge of the abyss.

  Han reacted instantly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back before she could fall.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she steadied herself, still shaken.

  "Thank you."

  Han simply nodded, about to respond—when something shot out of the chasm.

  A corpse.

  The skeletal remains crashed onto the ground before them, and then, as if the earth itself had a will, the fissure slowly sealed itself shut once more.

  A gust of wind swept through, and the corpse crumbled into white ash, dispersing into the air—leaving no trace it had ever existed.

  "What is this place…?" Yun Duo whispered, drawing her arms close to her body, terrified.

  "We keep moving," Yun Yun said firmly, then glanced at Han.

  Han blinked. Why is she looking at me?

  Then, he realized—his hand was still holding hers.

  Oh.

  Clearing his throat, he quickly let go.

  Just then—

  Boom!

  A large rock exploded beside them, sending a shock through the group.

  As the fragments hit the ground, they sank into the earth as if being swallowed whole.

  And within the shattered stone—

  Another skeleton.

  Just like the one from the ground, the moment it was exposed, it rapidly decayed into nothingness.

  "Just how many people have died here?" Han muttered, staring at the vast ruins around them.

  A chilling thought surfaced in his mind.

  What if… every stone, every inch of this land… is built upon the dead?

  He remembered what Lu Qingmo had said—how the Heavenly Fate Sect had been wiped out in a single night, and how the Abyssal Ruins had formed just as suddenly.

  The people who had once lived here… their fates were clear.

  They continued forward. Though the journey spanned only a few dozen miles, it felt like an eternity.

  Perhaps due to the Yun family’s accumulated knowledge, they avoided most dangers. The monstrous, animated skeletons that lurked in the distance did not cross their path.

  At last, they arrived.

  Before them stood the remnants of a once-grand palace—its structure fractured, its magnificence faded.

  Near the entrance lay a toppled stone tablet, chipped and broken. Three characters had once been carved into it—only two remained visible: Celestial Hall.

  The third character, lost to time.

  The palace was vast, yet crumbling. Entire sections had collapsed into rubble, leaving little more than a hollow shell of its former glory.

  "We go in," Yun Yun said, stepping forward.

  The moment they crossed the threshold, it was as if they had entered another world.

  The oppressive red mist thinned, nearly vanishing, easing the suffocating tension.

  Han turned back toward the entrance, peering out into the ruins.

  The outside world seemed even darker, even more ominous.

  The front hall was barren, devoid of furniture or relics—only dust and decay.

  Yun Yun gestured toward a massive bronze doorway ahead. "Beyond this door, we will be separated—each sent to face our own trials."

  The bronze door was adorned with chaotic engravings. Their meaning was unclear, but staring at them too long induced a strange dizziness.

  Clearly, the door—and its markings—were no ordinary relics.

  "The sooner we begin, the sooner we can leave. Staying here… doesn’t feel right."

  Han and the others nodded in agreement.

  Yun Yun led the way, stepping into the darkness beyond the door.

  She vanished.

  "Big Sis?" Yun Duo called out, but there was no answer.

  One by one, the others followed.

  Han waited.

  Until, at last, he was the only one left.

  Han fixed his gaze on the bronze door before him. What lay beyond? The ultimate truth of the world, perhaps…?

  Cough, cough. Wrong script.

  Shaking off his wandering thoughts, Han stepped through the doorway. The massive bronze door swung shut behind him with a deep, resonating thud.

  Silence filled the grand hall.

  Outside the Ascension Hall, a shadowy figure emerged—a humanoid form covered in thick, crimson fur. Its eerie, glowing red eyes fixed upon the sealed bronze door.

  "Heh… heh… heh…"

  A chuckle, deep and unsettling, echoed in the darkness.

  Endless blackness. No light. No sound. No sense of space.

  Then, suddenly, the darkness receded, replaced by dazzling brightness.

  Han blinked. The scenery around him had completely changed.

  Lush greenery stretched as far as the eye could see. Flowers bloomed, and birds chirped in the crisp, fragrant air. It was an idyllic paradise, utterly at odds with the bleak desolation of the Abyssal Ruins.

  Han frowned.

  A place like this… inside the Abyssal Ruins?

  Impossible.

  His gaze drifted upward. Faint, blood-red cracks marred the sky, leaking an ominous energy. A sense of foreboding crept into his heart.

  Is this world being consumed by the Ruins’ crimson mist?

  Despite the illusion of serenity, there was no doubt that this space was an extension of the Abyssal Ruins, perhaps twisted by its influence.

  What an extraordinary creation… Han mused. As expected of the legendary Fate Sect, rulers of their era.

  Suddenly, glowing words emerged on the trunk of a nearby ancient tree.

  "The Martial Trial Begins."

  "Martial Trial?" Han murmured.

  The ground beneath him trembled. A section of earth collapsed inward, and from the depths rose a figure—a young man with a cold, expressionless face. His eyes were unsettling: one black, the other white.

  "Seeker of the Path," the figure intoned, "defeat me—using martial means alone."

  Without hesitation, Han drew Taibai, his blade glinting coldly in the eerie light. The opponent, too, unsheathed a sword.

  This scenario was exactly as Yun Yun had described earlier. Upon entering the Ascension Hall, each challenger would face a Gatekeeper—a guardian forged from the mysteries of the hall itself.

  These were not living beings. No breath, no heartbeat—mere constructs, akin to lifeless puppets.

  Defeating them would yield rewards.

  A silver arc flashed through the air.

  Shiiing!

  Han struck first. His blade pierced straight through the Gatekeeper’s heart. The figure collapsed instantly.

  Too weak.

  His opponent had possessed the strength of a mere Peak Meridian Stage cultivator—hardly a challenge.

  Han withdrew Taibai from the fading corpse. As the Gatekeeper vanished, something dropped to the ground—a small, radiant stone.

  Loot drop!

  The stone glowed with a soft, milky light, radiating a gentle yet potent energy. Han examined it briefly before storing it away.

  This… is one of the benefits of the Ascension Hall.

  But the trial was far from over.

  Once again, the earth trembled. The same Gatekeeper reappeared, rising from the ground as if reborn.

  "Seeker of the Path," it repeated, "defeat me."

  Han struck again.

  Another single slash. Another instant kill.

  This time, the fallen Gatekeeper left behind a deeper-colored stone—its energy even richer than the first.

  At the same time, Han noticed something else.

  The Gatekeeper’s power had increased.

  This time, its strength was no longer at the initial Peak Meridian Stage, but rather an advanced level within that stage.

  So that’s how it works.

  There was only one Gatekeeper.

  But the battle would not be a singular event.

  Each time it was defeated, it would rise again—stronger than before.

  Its cultivation and combat ability would continue to evolve.

  For the third time, the Gatekeeper resurrected.

  This time, it had reached the absolute peak of the Meridian Stage.

  But even then…

  For Han, it was still—

  Not. Even. Close.