The moon hung low above the Ten Sun Sect, casting long silver shadows that spilled over stone tiles and ancient rooftops. It was late, and most of the sect slept—but not Yao Yi.
He stood before the mission board at the Inner Sect Hall, hands folded behind his back, reading the parchment slips fluttering gently in the night breeze. Behind him, others stirred. Disciples in varying robes—white-banded outer disciples, green-robed initiates, and a handful of core members—passed in silence, offering him the occasional glance before moving on.
He was used to the looks now. Fearful. Curious. Envious.
But tonight, something different shimmered in the air—anticipation.
There was a mission labeled in red ink.
"Beast Incursion. Level 3 threat. Verified casualty count: 7. Location: Blackwater Ravine."
Below, a note in a firmer hand: "Volunteers will be rewarded with three merit tokens and spiritual-grade weapons upon completion."
Yao Yi reached forward—and before his fingers could brush the parchment, another hand snatched it.
He turned.
It was Jiang Yuan—third-ranked among the new Inner Sect initiates. Tall, graceful, and sharp-eyed. His father was a deacon. His sword arts were deadly precise.
He smiled at Yao Yi with casual contempt. "Too dangerous for you, Mirror Boy."
Yao Yi didn't respond. He simply held out his hand.
A pause. Tension curled like mist.
Jiang Yuan hesitated—but then, as if playing a game, slowly passed him the mission slip.
"Try not to die," he said, voice dripping with amusement. "The sect's already tired of rumors about you."
Yao Yi tucked the slip into his sleeve.
He walked away without another word.
The next morning, six disciples gathered at the southeastern gate, armed and armored. Their breaths fogged in the early dawn chill.
The leader was Core Disciple Ru Lan—a woman in her late twenties, silver spear slung across her back. Her expression was calm, her tone clipped.
"You've all seen the report. Beast incursions are increasing—intelligently coordinated. This is not a routine cleanup. Stay sharp. Watch your qi levels. And if you see a crow…"
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
Yao Yi's hand brushed the mirror tied to his waist. It pulsed once. Almost... eagerly.
Blackwater Ravine was a chasm cleaved into the earth, wreathed in thick black mist even in daylight. The trees around it had twisted trunks, and the air held the scent of old blood and iron.
They moved in formation—two scouts ahead, Ru Lan at center, the rest forming a loose ring.
Yao Yi walked rear-guard.
He noticed the corpses first.
Animals at first—foxes, deer, even a mountain ape. All desiccated, as if drained from within.
Then, the human bodies.
One was slumped against a rock, eyes wide in horror. His hands were raised as if to shield against something unseen. His skin was dry. Brittle.
Ru Lan crouched beside the corpse, fingers brushing the man's robe.
"Still warm," she said. "They're close."
From the mist, came a whisper.
Then silence.
Then—a shriek.
A shape exploded from the treeline—a six-limbed beast, like a panther made of shadows, its eyes burning violet.
It struck fast.
Jiang Yuan reacted first, leaping forward, blade gleaming with green flame. "I'll take care of this—"
But as his sword struck the beast's flank, it passed through. The creature flickered—and reappeared behind him.
Jiang Yuan turned—too slow.
The beast swiped, claws raking down his back. He cried out, collapsing to the ground.
Before it could finish him, Ru Lan's spear cracked through the air and buried itself into the beast's shoulder.
The thing hissed, its form destabilizing. Shadow peeled away like burning cloth.
"Formation shift!" Ru Lan barked. "Protect the wounded!"
Yao Yi stepped forward.
The mirror at his waist pulsed.
Then—his eyes glazed white.
For a moment, the world split into layers. He saw not just the creature, but the fold it emerged from. A rift between realms—thin, but bleeding.
And behind it, more.
Without thinking, he lifted the mirror and aimed it forward.
A beam of silver light lanced out.
The rift screamed.
It wasn't sound—it was memory. Pain. Echoes of creatures that had died long ago.
Then silence.
The beast evaporated into ash.
The mist around them recoiled, hissing like boiling water.
The others stared at Yao Yi.
Ru Lan lowered her spear.
"What in the Emperor's name was that?"
Yao Yi breathed hard, but said nothing.
Inside the mirror, a voice whispered—not to him, but within him.
"This one remembers. This one consumes. This one evolves."
They set up camp just beyond the ravine, near an abandoned shrine where the stone fox statues had cracked faces.
Jiang Yuan lay on a blanket, bandaged but unconscious. One of the disciples stood watch. Ru Lan sat across the fire from Yao Yi.
She studied him in silence for a long time.
"Where did you learn that technique?"
"I didn't," he said honestly. "The mirror… reacts. It shows me."
Ru Lan's gaze narrowed. "It's not a spirit tool, is it? It's something older."
Yao Yi said nothing.
"You should report it to the elders."
He looked up.
"Would you?"
Ru Lan's lips tightened.
"No," she said eventually. "But I would be careful. That kind of power doesn't come without cost."
He nodded. Then, after a pause: "What do you know about Elder Silvermoon?"
Her expression shifted slightly.
"He was once a sect heir," she said. "But he gave up his seat—voluntarily. After the Eastern War. Rumors say he came back different."
Yao Yi frowned. "Different how?"
Ru Lan looked into the fire.
"Quieter. Angrier. He started mentoring odd disciples—ones the sect didn't want. Like Ling Yue."
Yao Yi stiffened.
Ru Lan noticed. "She's involved, isn't she?"
Yao Yi didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
That night, he dreamt.
Not of beasts. Not of war.
But of the mirror.
It floated before him, vast and full of stars.
In its depths, he saw a shadow walking backward through time. He saw a temple burning. He saw his father standing atop a mountain, holding a shattered mirror—and weeping.
And then, a voice—not whispering now, but commanding.
"Awaken what sleeps in your blood. Or it will awaken without you."
Yao Yi jolted awake.
The moon was high. The shrine was silent.
But behind him, deep in the forest, he heard it again—
the cry of a crow.