The peak of the Crimson mountain was a place where the air itself felt like molten lead, heavy with the ancient spiritual pressure of a thousand years of cultivation. Hua Sui followed Great Elder Mo up the winding obsidian stairs, his head bowed, his breath a controlled, shallow rhythm. To the world, he was 'Han Ming,' the dark horse of the competition. But internally, every nerve ending was screaming. The sect’s protective array—a massive, shimmering dome of golden light—pulsed with a frequency that felt like a direct assault on his Inverse Qi.

  "Do not stray from the path, Han Ming," Elder Mo said, his voice cold and resonant, vibrating in the very marrow of Hua Sui’s bones. "The Crimson Vault does not tolerate the impure. One wrong step, and the protective formations will turn your flesh to ash before you can even scream."

  Hua Sui kept his eyes fixed on the Elder’s white-and-gold robes. He could feel Mo’s spiritual sense sweeping over him, a sharp, invasive probe that sought to peel back the layers of his soul. He had to use every ounce of his willpower to keep the Grey Seed in a state of absolute stasis, burying his dark energy beneath a facade of exhaustion and shaky, low-level Qi.

  They reached a pair of massive bronze doors etched with the images of weeping dragons. As Elder Mo pressed his palm against a central rune, the doors groaned open, revealing a cavernous hall filled with a suffocating red radiance. This was the heart of the Scarlet Cloud Sect’s wealth—the Crimson Vault.

  The air inside was thick with the scent of dried herbs, cold iron, and the ozone of high-level talismans. Rows of floating jade platforms stretched into the darkness, each holding a treasure that would ignite a war in the outside world. There were spirit swords that hummed with lightning, jade slips containing forbidden techniques, and cauldrons that breathed with a life of their own.

  "You have won the right to choose one item from the outer tier," Elder Mo stated, his eyes narrowing as he watched Hua Sui’s reaction. "You have one hour. Choose wisely. A cultivator’s path is often decided by the tools he claims in his youth."

  Hua Sui began to walk, his footsteps echoing hollowly against the polished stone. He passed by a Rank 3 Ember-Flash Blade, its heat radiating against his skin. He passed a Frost-Heart Jade, which promised to stabilize one’s foundation. To any other disciple, these were life-changing gifts. To Hua Sui, they were useless. His Inverse Qi would only clash with their 'righteous' elemental properties, likely causing a backfire that would kill him.

  He moved deeper into the vault, toward the shadows where the less prestigious items were kept—the curiosities, the unidentified fragments, and the 'damaged' artifacts that the sect hadn't yet discarded.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Suddenly, a violent tremor shook the Grey Seed in his chest. It wasn't a warning; it was a hungry, desperate yearning.

  Hua Sui followed the sensation to a dusty corner, away from the glowing platforms. There, resting in a simple wooden crate filled with discarded debris, was a jagged shard of black bone. It was barely the size of a human finger, its surface pitted and dull, looking like nothing more than a piece of charred wood. There were no spiritual ripples coming from it—in fact, it seemed to actively suck the ambient light out of the air.

  There it is, Hua Sui thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. The source of the silence.

  As he reached out his hand, Elder Mo’s voice boomed from the entrance of the hall. "Why do you linger in the trash, Han Ming? That shard has been in this vault for three centuries. Our finest alchemists have declared it a 'dead relic'—a piece of ancient detritus with no spiritual value. Choose a sword. Do not waste your victory on a stone."

  Hua Sui didn't flinch. He turned slightly, keeping his face in the shadows. "Great Elder, my path has always been... unorthodox. I feel a strange affinity for this fragment. Perhaps it is a reminder of my own humble beginnings."

  Elder Mo snorted, a sound of pure arrogance. "Sentiment is a poison for the weak. But it is your choice. If you wish to walk out of the Crimson Vault with a piece of charcoal, so be it."

  The Elder’s suspicion began to fade, replaced by a deep-seated contempt. To Mo, this proved that 'Han Ming' was lucky, but ultimately lacked the vision of a true master. This was exactly what Hua Sui needed.

  The moment Hua Sui’s fingers closed around the black bone, a jolt of absolute cold shot through his arm, bypassing his meridians and striking directly at his spine. It felt as if he had touched the void itself. The bone didn't just vibrate; it hummed with a low, sub-audible frequency that harmonized with his Inverse Qi. For a split second, the red light of the vault seemed to turn a bruised, abyssal purple.

  He quickly tucked the shard into his sleeve, his hand trembling from the sudden cold.

  "I have made my choice," Hua Sui said, his voice steady despite the internal chaos.

  As they exited the vault and the heavy bronze doors sealed shut, Hua Sui felt the Great Elder’s gaze one last time—a look of dismissive boredom. Hua Sui bowed deeply and began his descent back toward the lower peaks.

  He didn't wait to reach the safety of his pavilion. The moment he was out of the Great Elder’s sight, he felt the black bone shard begin to move. It wasn't just sitting in his sleeve; it was trying to burrow into his skin. The hunger of the bone was matched only by the hunger of his own Inverse Qi.

  He had entered the vault as a slave who had won a tournament. He was leaving it as something else—a carrier of an ancient, necrotic power that would eventually swallow the Scarlet Cloud Sect whole. The 'Crimson Vault' had given him the one thing it should have destroyed.

  As the sun set, casting long, bloody shadows over the mountains, Hua Sui clutched his arm, his eyes burning with a dark, feverish light. The foundation was set. The catalyst was in his hand. Tonight, the pill slave would begin his transformation into something the heavens themselves would fear.