Silent Majesty

He shifted his gaze to Kibito, calm-eyed yet carrying an authority that could not be challenged.

"I can sense that he isn't lying." After saying that, he paused, his fingertips lightly rubbing the edge of his robe.

The soft rustling sounded especially clear in the silence.

"And—" He looked up, his gaze passing over Chen Hao's shoulder toward a stone pillar shrouded in distant shadow. "If he truly meant to harm us, our strength wouldn't be enough to stop him."

Kibito opened his mouth, his lips moving a few times like a fish dragged onto shore. His fingers clenched and loosened, and in the end, he merely lowered his head, his fists hanging limply at his sides.

He said nothing.

Shin turned and headed deeper into the temple, the hem of his robe whipping behind him and trailing a dark shadow.

His footsteps were light, yet every step seemed to fall upon an ancient rhythm, tightening everyone's chest.

Chen Hao held Android 18's hand, his fingers clasped around her palm as he felt that it was still a little cold.

He glanced sideways at her—she bit her lip, her brow furrowed, but she did not struggle, allowing him to lead her into the dark corridor.

The three of them passed through the temple's long hallway. The stone walls on both sides were covered in faded murals depicting ancient wars and sacrifices.

All the color had peeled away, leaving only blurred outlines.

Their footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, each one seeming to reach out from another world.

Candle flames flickered in the wall niches, stretching the shadows until they twisted and intertwined across the walls.

The air carried the scent of sandalwood mixed with dust, along with something even more ancient—the bitter tang of metal and stone steeped in the passage of time.

At last, they arrived before a massive stone door.

The stone door stood roughly thirty feet tall, its surface densely engraved with runes and geometric patterns. Every groove looked as though it had been chiseled bit by bit with a blade, so deep it made one's skin crawl.

Dark red rust stained the seams of the door, like dried blood—or perhaps the mark of something imprisoned.

Shin raised a hand and pressed his palm against the cold door, his five fingers spreading slightly.

He closed his eyes and quietly recited an ancient incantation.

The syllables were deep and heavy, utterly alien to this world, and even the air trembled with his voice.

Dust sifted down from the crack in the door.

The light dimmed for an instant, then suddenly flared bright again.

The stone door slowly opened with a dull roar, like the low growl of some colossal beast.

As the hinges turned, fragments of stone fell from above, striking the floor and kicking up dust.

The gap widened, revealing a dim room.

The light was thin as mist, barely enough to make out the room's shape.

At the center of the room stood a silver-white longsword.

Its blade pierced straight into the ground, its tip embedded in a stone pedestal. Around it lay a faint, transparent barrier—like ripples left in the air after it had been scorched.

The blade was four feet long, with pale golden light flowing over its surface, speeding up and slowing down along the sword's patterns as though it were breathing.

The hilt was forged from some unidentifiable metal, silver-gray with a hint of blue-black sheen, like a hidden reef in the deep sea.

A fist-sized blue gemstone was set into its pommel. Fine points of starlight slowly revolved within it, like a tiny sleeping galaxy.

"This is the Z Sword." Shin's voice was low, and even his tone carried a solemn gravity. "It can cut through anything—not just matter, but souls, karma, and dimensions." He pointed at the sword, tracing a small arc with his finger.

"But it has a will of its own. Not just anyone can wield it."

Chen Hao stepped forward, his stride steady.

He stopped three feet away, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the blade. Then he reached out and firmly gripped the hilt.

His fingers tightened until his knuckles turned white as he stared directly at the sword without the slightest hesitation.

Bzzzz—

A powerful surge of energy instantly flooded into his body, like a bolt of lightning piercing through his spine.

His body jolted, his shoulders tensing as his spine gave a faint creak.

Energy surged through his veins. Scorching lava and freezing aurora crashed into his nerves at once.

His grip tightened further. Veins bulged at the base of his thumb, while a streak of golden light flashed beneath his skin.

Old Kai... I can sense him.

Like a volcano that had slumbered for hundreds of millions of years, awakened by this sword.

Android 18 watched him nervously, both hands clenched before her chest, her knuckles white from the force.

She drew in a sharp breath, her voice trembling faintly. "Chen Hao?"

Chen Hao did not answer.

He closed his eyes. A trace of golden light shimmered beneath his lashes, his breathing long and steady, as if he had entered another dimension.

He could "see" a figure sealed within the sword—an elderly man with a burly frame, muscles like stone, and a long, thick silver-white beard hanging to his chest, every strand giving off a faint glow.

The old man sat cross-legged in endless darkness, surrounded by boundless void. There was not a trace of light, yet he radiated a blazing presence, like the flames born with the universe.

He sat with his eyes closed, hands folded over his knees. With every breath, even the darkness seemed to pulse in rhythm.

"Have you come at last..." The old man's voice echoed in Chen Hao's mind, deep and resonant, carrying the reverberation of rocks colliding. "I've been waiting for a very long time." He slowly opened his eyes, golden light surging in his pupils like two blazing suns.

Chen Hao slowly released his hand, as if the lingering warmth of gripping a sword still remained between his fingers.

He raised his eyes and looked at the silver-white longsword before him.

The blade stood silently, cold and pure, like congealed moonlight.

Fine patterns flowed along the sword's spine like ancient runes, flickering in and out of view beneath the light.

The air around them seemed heavier, and even each breath carried a metallic chill.

"You've come..." Old Kai's voice exploded in Chen Hao's mind, low and distant, as though it had crossed an abyss spanning ten thousand years. "I've waited for this moment... for far too long." His voice was filled with age and urgency, like someone imprisoned for ages finally catching sight of a sliver of dawn.

Chen Hao merely frowned.

He ignored the old man's call from within the sword and instead turned to Shin. "Who's sealed inside this sword?" he asked calmly, as though discussing something ordinary.

Shin froze for a moment, his pupils suddenly contracting. "What?"

"There's an old man sealed inside the sword." Chen Hao enunciated every word, his gaze as sharp as a blade as he stared at Shin and Kibito. "There's a living being hidden inside your weapon, yet you know nothing about it. You worship it as a sacred relic day and night, never realizing that it's actually a prison."

Kibito's face immediately turned livid, his jaw tightening as his fists clenched involuntarily. "Nonsense! The Z Sword is a sacred blade, passed down through countless eras. How could it possibly have some living being sealed inside it?!" His voice trembled with rage. "You're desecrating the gods!"

Shin did not refute him immediately.

He frowned, doubt glinting in his eyes as he stepped forward, bent down, and carefully examined the silver-white longsword.

His fingers gently brushed the blade, feeling its faintly cool surface.

The edge was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting his hesitant face.

Golden light flowed through the sword, like divine power slowly swimming within it. It looked completely normal—perhaps even too perfect.

"You're saying there's someone sealed inside the sword?" Shin raised his head hesitantly, uncertainty in his voice.

Chen Hao nodded, his gaze unwavering. "An old man with a long beard. He's thin and withered, yet his presence is astonishing. He should be the Old Kai."