Chen Wuya's fingers still rested on the stone stele, a faint tremor reaching his fingertips. The outline of the character "gate" had yet to fade from before his eyes, but his attention had already shifted to the Blood Banner on the ground. Mo Feng was closing the jade box, while Bai Zhi's gaze remained fixed on the Demonic Cult remnants still kneeling on the ground.
Just then, the Blood Banner moved on its own.
One corner of the previously curled banner slowly unfurled. Red light seeped from its charred cracks, as though something within were awakening. A deep voice emerged from the banner, broken and intermittent, yet clearly audible:
"This seat... was only a chess piece... The Heavenly Machine Scroll is... the true key..."
Chen Wuya's pupils contracted. This was not a replay of the scene from before, but a deeper fragment of memory. Rather than withdraw his hand, he let the perception of his Misreading domain extend along the connection of vital currents between the stele and the Blood Banner.
The image changed.
It was no longer a scene of rubble and falling stones, but a sealed chamber. Runes covered all four walls. In the center stood an iron pillar stretching all the way to the ceiling, thick iron chains coiled around it. Someone was firmly bound there, both hands raised overhead, his back to the viewer.
The man wore fitted black clothes, a silver sash at his waist, and black boots—exactly like Mo Feng's attire.
The viewpoint slowly turned, revealing the man's face.
Lively brows and eyes, lips that dipped slightly at the corners, a canine tooth faintly visible on his right cheek. He looked exactly like Mo Feng.
"What is this?" Mo Feng stumbled back two steps, his voice tightening. "I've never been in a place like