The group returned to Qingye Sect by twilight, the sky veiled in streaks of crimson and ash-gray. Word of their mission's unusual nature had not yet spread—held silent under Elder Qiu's orders—but unease hung in the air.
Lin Ho stood before the mission hall, the jade slip in his hand shimmering faintly. Fifty merit points added. No celebration followed.
Yuyan approached quietly.
> "That voice in the forest," she said. "You heard it too, didn't you?"
He nodded once.
> "But you didn't?"
She shook her head. "Only you reacted."
He didn't respond further, and Yuyan didn't press. She only said:
> "Be ready. This won't be the last time."
---
That night, Lin Ho returned to his quiet residence on the sect's east wing. It was a humble courtyard once owned by a retired elder. Trees shaded its garden, and a silent spring trickled nearby — the only sound accompanying his meditations.
He sat cross-legged beneath a plum tree, Chaos Qi flowing naturally through his meridians.
The spiritual energy outside bent toward him. Grass rustled. Stones vibrated.
He exhaled, slowly refining the energy into his dantian. The chaotic vortex within shimmered with gold-tinged black, and with a soft hum, it compressed.
Breakthrough.
Meridian Forging – Mid Stage.
The world around him shifted. He felt it: the subtle pulse of the heavens, the whisper of Qi in the wind, the hum of spiritual threads hidden beneath the surface of stone and wood.
It was not violent. Chaos did not scream. It assimilated.
---
The next morning, as he tended the stone garden, a small sound caught his ear.
Footsteps.
Familiar ones.
His grandfather stood at the gate, hands behind his back.
> "You've advanced again," the old man said, watching him with a quiet smile. "Even without guidance, you find the path."
> "It's not without guidance," Lin Ho replied. "I owe it to you."
The old man nodded.
> "Walk with me."
They strolled down a winding trail along the mountain's edge. Cherry blossoms drifted in the breeze. Distant bells rang from training fields.
> "I haven't told you everything," his grandfather said finally. "About your parents. About why they left."
Lin Ho's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
The old man reached into his robe and pulled out a small jade token shaped like a crescent moon.
> "This opens a hidden chamber below the old Lin estate. Only you can access it. Your father prepared it long ago. He left something behind."
> "A message?"
> "And more. Instructions. Memories. Perhaps even warnings."
Lin Ho took the token with both hands. It pulsed faintly with familiar warmth — the same aura his father once carried.
> "Why now?"
> "Because I believe… someone else has begun to move."
The old man looked out toward the horizon, his voice low.
> "Those who fear the bloodline you carry… they are not of this world."
Lin Ho's eyes flickered gold and black.
> "Then it's time I stop walking quietly."
---
That night, he stood alone at the old Lin estate — long-abandoned, yet untouched. He stepped into the underground chamber, placed the jade token into the stone basin, and waited.
With a soft click, the wall opened, revealing a room lit with ancient formations. Floating scrolls hovered in stasis. A single orb pulsed at the center — projecting a phantom image of his father.
> "Lin Ho," the voice said, calm and deep. "If you're seeing this, you've awakened the bloodline. Good. That means you're ready. But know this…"
The voice sharpened.
> "We didn't leave. We were called. And now… the stars stir again. If you want to see us—if you want the truth—you must ascend to the God Realm."
The message flickered once, then continued:
> "Until then, don't speak of your bloodline. The true enemy listens. And chaos… chaos was never meant to be tamed."
Lin Ho stood still, fists clenched at his side, eyes burning with resolve.
> "Then I'll walk the path no one dares."
---
End of Chapter 12