Chapter 30: Kunlun Sacred Tree

                   

Yan Dan felt herself falling endlessly, chaos swirling like a gray corridor with no end. Suddenly, light pierced her eyes, pain seared her bones, as if something had been torn away.

A branch lashed out from the towering sacred tree, wrapping her waist. More vines burst from the ground, binding her hands and feet. She whispered a spell; flames crackled along the cane—but the fire avoided her.

This was the Kunlun Sacred Tree. Except for one in the heavenly court’s southernmost end, none existed elsewhere. Could they have fallen into the Heavenly Court itself?

The branches slammed her down, strangling her breath. Tang Zhou and Yu Mo fell nearby. Tang Zhou, mortal, could not imagine a tree threatening lives. Yan Dan pinned her hopes on Yu Mo.

Yu Mo steadied himself mid‑air, sparks igniting at his fingertips. Before he finished his spell, branches whipped toward him, wrapping his wrist. He cut them with his dagger, but more erupted, trapping him tightly. His dagger slipped, trembling in the soil.

Yan Dan sighed: “What a pity…”

All three were bound. A thick trunk rose, watching them.

“Yan Dan.” Yu Mo’s voice was calm. She turned to see him smiling faintly, like a breeze. At death’s edge, true hearts are revealed.

Tang Zhou looked upward. “Someone is coming down.”

A figure descended gracefully—prepared, unlike them. Yan Dan’s heart sank. The Shenxiao Palace Master.

Branches whipped at him, but his sword flashed unseen. With a soft snort, the branches fell severed. The tree roared in fury, flames erupted, and the sacred tree fled like a blazing fireball.

Yan Dan slapped sparks from her clothes, furious. “Do I have a feud with you?! You deliberately trouble me again and again!”

The Palace Master brushed dust from his sleeves. “You’re thinking too much.”

Yan Dan trembled with rage, but Yu Mo held her back, covering her eyes. “You cannot kill him. Be at ease.”

The Palace Master explained: “This is the demonic phase caused by the ancient artifact Paper Ink. We are in our own consciousness. Shadows vanish here.”

Yan Dan reasoned: “So our memories shape what appears. The Kunlun Sacred Tree came because we had seen it before.”

Yu Mo agreed. “You need a pure soul to unlock Paper Ink’s seal, to lessen danger.”

The Palace Master admitted: “I intended to wait until you reached the end, but you managed even the Kunlun Tree.”

They lit a bonfire in the desolate land. Tang Zhou asked why they felt no hunger. Yan Dan explained: “We walk in consciousness. An hour outside may feel like a day here.”

Yu Mo called softly: “Yan Dan.” She rested her head on his lap. He adjusted her pillow, blushing faintly.

Tang Zhou polished his sword, its light dazzling. Yu Mo covered Yan Dan’s eyes. “Sleep. Tomorrow we must hurry.”

In dreams, Yan Dan saw a figure in blue, cutting his hand, blood turning into crimson sculptures that flew at her. She woke, Yu Mo’s dark eyes watching.

“We all heard a voice,” Yu Mo said. “Yet only wind surrounds us.”

The Palace Master spoke solemnly: “Four ancient artifacts—Seven Yao, Paper Ink, Earth Stop, and Lichen. Left by Pangu, later held by the Nine Emperors, lost in the battle of immortals and demons. If three belong to Heaven, the fourth may be of the Demon Realm. Paper Ink is likely such.”

Yan Dan burned with anger. “You deceived us into this demonic phase and now dismiss it with a sentence!”

Yu Mo soothed her. “It is easy to be irritable here. Calm yourself.”

The Palace Master gazed upward. “The seal says: the devil is born from the heart. Everything here is born from memory. I need Paper Ink to remember the past. That is why I brought you here.”

For the first time, Yan Dan saw him smile—sadly. “If I could recall the past, I would walk the mountain of knives and sea of fire.”

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