Chen Wuya pressed a hand against the stone wall of the passage, warmth seeping into his fingertips. He had barely taken a step when his chest suddenly jolted, as though something were awakening from deep beneath his skin. He stopped and looked down at his lapels.
The golden pattern stretching from his wrist to his chest was glowing. Its light brightened from dim to brilliant, like a fuse being lit. Sensing something amiss, Bai Zhi stepped quickly forward, her gaze dropping beneath his exposed neck.
"What is it?" she asked.
Chen Wuya said nothing, merely unfastening his outer robe. His entire chest was exposed beneath the dim light. The tattoo was no longer a broken, intermittent trace, but had fully emerged—a ancient totem, its lines intricate yet orderly. At its center was a swirling vortex-shaped sigil, ringed by six curved marks.
Mo Feng leaned in as well, setting his mechanism pack on the ground and taking out the bronze mirror in his hand. "This pattern... isn't an ordinary tattoo," he said. "It's moving."
Before his words had faded, the tattoo suddenly pulsed. A beam of golden light shot from its center and struck the ground directly. The moment it touched the floor, six large characters slowly appeared: Gather the Nine Sects, Refine Chaos.
Bai Zhi's pupils contracted slightly. She crouched, her fingers hovering above the words. A wave of heat rushed at her face, and she swiftly pulled her hand back. "It's as hot as a red-hot iron plate," she said. "This isn't a projection. It's real energy."
Chen Wuya stared at those six words, his mind utterly blank. He did not think of the blood moon, nor did he continue tracing the black-robed man's past. In that moment, every tangled thought was suppressed, leaving only that line of words