329 Crown of the Forgotten

The name’s Da Wei, and I’m handsome… er… ahem… a dog… Yeah, that. My fur glowed faintly under the sun, each strand thrumming with divine energy, but the mind inhabiting this body was split between two idiots… me, and the other me.

“Can we chase that butterfly?” asked the Animal Soul, voice bubbling in my head with that restless, childlike curiosity.

“No,” I muttered aloud, my jaw moving though no one could hear.

“The squirrel under the tree then? It’s fat. I bet it tastes divine.”

“No,” I said again, more firmly this time. “I don’t care how much of a foodie you are, like me, but no. We need to focus, buddy. Okay?”

The golden retriever inside me groaned like I’d just told him the world’s greatest tragedy. I, meanwhile, was trying to maintain altitude. Zealot’s Stride carried me through the skies, golden light blooming beneath my paws with every leap, the world below stretching like a rolling carpet of forest and distant rivers. The wind sang against my ears, and the scent of the Hollowed World was crisp, alive, but whispering of something hidden beneath.

Tao Long had already left with Dave and Joan. He promised to help them reach New Willow. I hoped he’d keep his word. Tao Long wasn’t the sort to break promises, but in times like these, even good dragons could get distracted. Joan, poor girl, still couldn’t recall much, her eyes searching for memories that refused to return. Dave, now bound as a Summoned Holy Spirit, was a pale echo of his old power.

I wanted them both in Riverfall, for the final battle. But for now, their paths diverged from mine.

My mission was clear: recover the Hollow Star.

The Animal Soul fidgeted within, its golden essence rippling through my limbs. “We’ve been flying for hours,” it complained. “How about a break? A short one? There’s a bird over there with really shiny feathers—”

“Focus,” I interrupted, my tone sharp enough to cut the wind. “People’s lives are at stake. The Hollow Star doesn’t have time for us to play fetch with destiny.”

The horizon stretched into folds of mist and gold, but my eyes weren’t on the clouds. I was comparing and matching the landscape before me with the one Zai Ai had shown through her consciousness technique. The deal had been simple: her disciple for the Hollow Star. In exchange for giving Mao Xian back, she revealed the location of the Hollow Star.

I would’ve appreciated it more if she’d decided to tag along and show me exactly where it was, but no. She had to flit off with her disciple like a mother hen protecting her chick. Not that I blamed her entirely. If I were her, I wouldn’t want to stare at my own enemy’s mug either, dog-faced or not.

Still, the valley matched the vision. I slowed, descending through layered mists until the ground revealed itself, a scarred basin of crumbling rock and cracked qi veins. In the center of the valley was a pit, hidden beneath piles of ancient stone. Even with my powers, the thing eluded my mind for a moment, a whisper of dread clawing at my chest. Illusions pressed at the edge of my thoughts, soft voices urging me to turn back, leave, and forget.

“Nice try.”

Unfortunately for whatever ancient magic was trying to keep secrets, my Divine Sense was superior. I stepped through the deceit like a curtain of smoke and hovered over the pit’s mouth.

It was deep, bottomless almost, and the moment my paws crossed the boundary, I felt time itself twist around me. The distortion gnawed at my life force, like unseen fangs chewing through the edges of my being. Thankfully, it wasn’t lifespan that was being devoured, just life force. I cast Blessed Regeneration, feeling divine light refill my core, replenishing what the pit greedily ate away.

Hovering just above the ground, I took in the sight below: rivers of draconic veins pulsing with power, each vein exhaling wisps of shimmering qi that rose like smoke. They converged in the center, where ancient runes glowed faintly.

The characters carved in the stone were simple, yet heavy with meaning: 海豹—seal.

Zai Ai had told me that to unlock it, one must recite the passphrase aloud, and it must be spoken with emotion.

I sighed, summoning my true form with the spell, Summon: Holy Spirit. My spirit burst free from the golden retriever, coalescing into the familiar green-robed figure with dark hair flowing around me. The Animal Soul’s golden form sat obediently nearby, tail wagging.

“What’s next?” it asked, ears twitching.

“Stay,” I replied.

Landing gently upon the cracked stone, I felt the dense qi crawl along my skin like living mist. I placed my hand on the rune and, with the grandest sense of solemnity I could muster, spoke the password aloud, the poem Zai Ai had burned into my mind.

“Once I loved, now I loathe,

Faith betrayed by silk and oath.

My heart was pure, yet left to rot,

Nongmin, you bastard, may you eat shit and choke a lot.”

I stared at the seal. The seal stared back. The air was still.

Absolutely nothing happened.

I blinked once. Twice. “Well,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck, “either the seal doesn’t appreciate poetry… or Zai Ai was having a particularly vindictive day.”

Somewhere deep within the pit, a faint thrum echoed, so faint I almost missed it. But it wasn’t enough to call movement. Just… a heartbeat. I folded my arms and sighed. “Figures. The one time I’m forced to recite poetry about betrayal, fate still finds a way to ignore me.”

Suddenly, the ground beneath me trembled like a living thing. The dragon veins roared, the stones pulsed with light, and from the fissures in the earth, golden mist erupted upward. The qi spiraled, coalescing into a familiar figure, a silhouette that shimmered like glass before forming flesh and color.

Zai Ai.

Well… a younger Zai Ai.

She blinked at me, her expression unreadable.

“I see…” she murmured. “You have come.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Her gaze swept over me, and her brow furrowed. “I don’t know who you are, but flee this pit. The power of the Hollow Star is immense, and the world is not ready for it.”

“I need it, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

She stepped closer, light rippling with every movement. “Wielding it would allow you to move the entire world,” she continued, “but at a hefty price.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A price, huh? And what kind of ‘hefty price’ are we talking about?”

Her tone grew heavy, almost motherly. “Unfathomable torment… and possibly, death.”

She paused, lowering her gaze as if remembering something or someone. “Emperor Nongmin entrusted me with the duty of safeguarding this item. Even if his majesty sent you, I cannot simply hand it over. You must first convince me that your cause outweighs the consequences.”

I couldn’t help but snort. “Nongmin, huh? You’re still calling him his majesty?”

Strange. The real Zai Ai practically spat his name like poison when she mentioned him. But this version, this memory, held reverence in her voice. Warmth, even. I suppose this illusion was born from an earlier, purer time… before betrayal turned affection into bitterness.

The illusion’s eyes sharpened. “The importance of this artifact cannot be overstated. Nongmin himself erased his memory of its existence, as did my original self. The only reason you’ve found this place is because you carry a fragment of need within you… a reason that surpasses greed or ambition.”

She took a step forward, the air trembling around her. “Now, tell me, cultivator… what is it that you seek? What drives you to awaken the Hollow Star?”

I hesitated.

For a moment, I thought of lying and telling her something simple, something that might bypass whatever conditions bound this illusion. But the pit’s air was alive with truth-binding qi; deceit would only rebound upon me.

So I spoke plainly.

“The Empire bleeds,” I said. “Civil war tears through the lands. Factions devour each other for power, and the world itself trembles beneath the weight of their greed.”

I lifted my gaze to meet hers.

“And soon,” I said softly, “a World War will come, one that will raze everything to ruin.”

I didn’t tell the Zai Ai in front of me that all of this, the slaughter, the war, and the slow self-destruction of the Empire could have been avoided if I’d just played along at the Summit. I could’ve walked away. I could’ve turned my back and left their filthy practices alone. But how could I? They’d been practicing genocide as though it was a ritual, a rite of governance. Whole peoples erased from existence simply because they didn’t fit the script the Heavenly Temple had written for the world.

It was wrong. It would always be wrong.

And yet… looking at the Zai Ai in front of me, I didn’t know what she felt about any of it. Maybe she was complicit back then. Maybe she believed it was necessary. This wasn’t the same Zai Ai who’d stared me down with bitter eyes. This was a shadow of her past self.

So I danced around the topic, and kept my tongue on a leash.

The Sundering of the Summit… that was an entirely different story. Too much blood spilled there to use as leverage now. Instead, I appealed to her emotions. It was all I could do.

“We have a plan,” I said, voice steadier than I felt. “A plan to stop the war in the Empire. The Hollow Star will play an important role in it. I only wish to save the Empire from itself. The people—” my jaw clenched “—they’ve done nothing wrong. It’s those in power who abused it. They’re the ones who have to pay. Please… you have to help us.”

Her eyes shimmered, like twin stars dimmed behind clouds. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Promise me,” she said softly, but the weight behind her voice hit like a mountain. “Promise to me that the wishes of those who perished will come true.”

I blinked. “Perish? Who?”

The visions came.

They slammed into me like a thousand knives at once. Flashes of death and ruin, of every race and realm descending upon the Hollowed World, millions of lives spilling, falling, and consumed. Screaming skies. Ash rivers. The Hollow Star itself, pulsing beneath it all, drinking in their providence, their hopes, and their despair.

I understood, in that instant, what Nongmin had meant when he called it “unfathomable.” This wasn’t just a treasure. It was a monument to extinction. A crown of everything that had died here.

When I opened my eyes, Zai Ai was gone. The illusion faded like mist under sunlight.

Floating before me was something else entirely. A crown of metallic gray, shifting with an eerie luster like steel and smoke at once. Its band was carved with endless reliefs: humans, ghosts, animals, asuras, heavenly beings, and hellish creatures, all running in a clockwise circle around it, locked in a grim eternal dance. Their faces moved as though alive, twisted in agony, longing, and supplication.

The qi around me turned still, and then the voice came. It didn’t speak in words so much as it broke into my skull, a thousand whispers crying as one:

“One wish… only one wish… the end… the end of the Supreme Beings… and all life…”

The crown pulsed, and the air around me darkened, as if the very world was holding its breath.

I reached out, and the voice wailed louder.

“One wish! One wish! End them! End it all!”

The Hollow Star had a soul, and it was begging for annihilation.

If qi was the blood of the universe, then mana was its breath. Qi circulated, nourished, and fed life; mana shaped, commanded, and gave it form. Together, they weren’t just power, they were existence itself. Quintessence.

And the crown before me… it overflowed with quintessence so violently that the barren stone floor of the pit was now crawling with grass and blooming flowers. Every second they sprouted higher, taller, faster, as though I was standing in a garden accelerated by centuries.

Each time I tried to probe it with my Divine Sense, my head pounded like a drum. A sharp, needle-like ache. It was like staring directly at the sun but with my soul.

“I can’t end all life,” I said. “You can’t make me do something so heinous.”

A thousand voices answered me, shrieking and whispering at once:

“No! No! Then we can’t be yours!”

“I can promise you this much…” My throat tightened. “…the Supreme Beings will be judged for their actions. Not now, but one day. It will happen. I swear upon my soul.”

“Your soul is not enough! Not enough!”

I winced. “Then what do you want?”

The answer came like a knife to the heart:

“YOU! WE WANT YOU!”

The air rippled beside me. I didn’t even flinch when Zai Ai appeared once more, her illusion standing like a quiet phantom at my side. “You don’t have to accept its offer,” she said softly. “Just let go…”

But I shook my head. “I do.”

The Hollow Star pulsed, if something so alien could even be said to “pulse”, and its voice became a chant, low and intoxicating:

“In the next dark moon and starless night, when the Warden is at his weakest and the fates cannot observe the crowning, you shall be named master of nothing, king of nothing, emperor of nothing, and the last champion of the lost worlds, as ordained by ancient prophecies untold. Accept me! Accept me!”

I swallowed, my hand trembling. “I accept.”

It was like being drowned in sunlight. So much power. So much quintessence. It poured over me like a floodgate tearing open. With this much, I could cast ultimate skills endlessly, break limits that bound even immortals. I might not even need my Manasouls anymore.

My Animal Soul whimpered, brushing its head against my leg, golden fur bristling as it looked up at me with wide, worried eyes. Zai Ai had already faded fully, her illusion gone.

I stared down at the strange crown as it flickered, its presence unraveling.

“Then bring me with you.”

The voices cut off abruptly. The crown lost its glow, its aura vanishing like mist. And then it simply fell, clattering noisily onto the stone floor, as if it was just an ordinary piece of metal.

The pit fell silent. Only the crown remained.