A toe tap sent Jared flickering aside, the venom missing by inches. His left hand formed a seal, and his Heart-Focusing Mantra Ignited, a pale gold beam burst from his palm and smashed into the wyrm’s skull.
The cavern shuddered beneath the creature’s shriek. Writhing in agony, it thrashed through the pool, sending sheets of water across every rock face.
Flaxseed poured everything into the emerald badge, and the spear-like beam of white light stabbed through the wyrm’s eyes. Blinded, the beast lurched and toppled toward the bank.
“Now!” Jared’s eyes flashed.
The Dragonslayer Sword became a streak of light and pierced the creature’s single vital node. Black blood geysered across the stone. The body twitched once, twice, then sagged into stillness. Only then did the two men exhale. They collapsed onto the slick rock, lungs heaving.
“That wyrm was nearly a third-tier Earthly Immortal Realm cultivator,” Flaxseed muttered, still staring at the corpse. “The Abyss of Fallen Demons has only opened. If this were the guardian, whatever comes next will be worse.”
Jared rose, walked to the carcass, and worked his fingers into the skull until pried free a fist-sized black core. Dark miasma licked its surface, yet the power within felt startlingly pure.
“This should prove useful,” said, tucking it away. “Its inner core is vicious, but refinement will tame it. We’ll rest a minute, get our strength back, and push on.”
Across the lake, a stone dais glimmered more brightly than the cavern walls, whatever treasure lay there was surely what the wyrm had died to defend. Its death, Jared realized, had opened only the first door in their long descent.
After the demon wyrm died, the underground pool gradually calmed, yet the once jade-green water now carried oily streaks of black and a stench thick enough to make the rock walls groan.
Jared sat cross-legged on the shore, breathing in the lingering demonic aura to replenish the power the battle had drained from him, while Flaxseed wandered across the stone bridge toward a low altar on the far side.
Dust lay thick on the altar, and in its center rested a bronze casket etched with the same runes that shimmered on Flaxseed‘s emerald badge, though here the pattern looked far more intricate.
“Don’t touch it! There’s a restriction on that box.” Jared approached, brow furrowing as traced the glowing runes.
“These seals belong to the Flaxseed clan,” murmured. “Whoever forged the casket meant it for your people… My clanspeople left this here? Then what on earth is inside?”
“Hard to say…” Gathering a thread of spiritual energy at his fingertip, Jared brushed the runes. “They look simple, yet one wrong move will trigger a backlash. Have you ever seen a rune formation like this?”
Flaxseed knelt, set his emerald badge beside the box, and watched as the white light inside the gem answered the casket’s sigils, nudging them into a slow, deliberate spin.
“Those markings… I’ve only seen them in our clan’s oldest sketches. They test blood, only someone of Flaxseed blood can break the seal.”
Following the ancient instructions, pricked a finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the pendant.
Light flared, poured into the bronze, and the carved runes came alive, sliding along hidden grooves until the lid parted with a soft click.
The box held no jewels, only a yellowed roll of beast skin and a black token engraved with the character for “Flaxseed”, its rim studded with tiny crystals that whispered of dormant power.
