Chapter 72: Records of the World Part 1
A veil of silver mist parted before Li Wei and Leng Yue as they stepped from the shadowy threshold of the ancient crypt. A hush fell—so deep it felt as though even the pulse of the world paused to offer reverence.
Li Wei’s breath caught at the spectacle: the ancestral coffin, ornate beyond mortal hands, lay before them. It was hewn from jade-black stone, overlaid in fine gold filigree and studded with rubies and sapphires that gleamed like captive stars. Surrounding it were scrolls, parchments, and bound tomes—archives older than any living clan—each one a vessel of truth concerning this world’s hidden domains.
A low rattle of parchment followed Li Wei’s deliberate movement. Heedless of material wealth, he seized the nearest scroll—a compact archive titled Records of the Martial World: Unabridged. It slipped open in his grip, its paper cracking softly like ancient bone. He drank in the words hungrily, the scent of aged ink and whispered power drawing his spirit deeper.
"There are yet so many martial domains..." he murmured, tracing a Chapter of places thick with spiritual qi, life energy unseen by the common eye. These were not simply landmarks—they were thresholds to ascension.
Li Wei’s finger paused atop a meticulously drawn map. "Mount Heaven Peak," he read aloud. "A sacred mountain hosting the Celestial Lotus Sect. Though its masters have changed, its qi remains untainted. The path to the peak is steep—few manage the final ascent without disruption from its tempest winds."
Leng Yue leaned in, eyes glinting. "A test of body and will. Only the resolute prevail." A gust rattled through the crypt, as though echoing her words.
Li Wei’s eyes flicked to a new section. "Misty Lotus Valley," he whispered. "A place shrouded in eternally rising fog...houses clans of silent assassins, their blades dyed in shadow."
Leng Yue raised an eyebrow. "One must be wary of beauty that conceals death." The scroll’s illustration depicted lotus blossoms floating in mist, but beneath them—tiny silhouettes of cloaked figures poised in stillness.
Leng Yue unfurled another parchment. At its center was a jagged mountain range, jagged peaks lancing into swirling clouds. "The Thunder Mountain Range," she read.
A distant thunderclap suddenly rolled through the crypt —BOOM—. Both froze. Then resumed.