Author's Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapters Are Still Under Construction.

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"This place…" Victor whispered.

It didn't feel like a residence.

It felt old.

Older than the four decades that the Kahr'uun had been here.

And dangerous.

But Rhozan was inside, so Victor approached the archway and descended the stairwell that spiraled into darkness.

The air grew colder... so cold frost formed on Victor's eyelashes. This time he actually felt it a little...

At the bottom was a narrow corridor stretching straight ahead, utterly unlit except for a thin bar of light at the far end.

Victor slowed and approached carefully. This felt like a place that seemed restricted to outsiders but nonetheless he approached.

The Kahr'uun people had nothing to hide, right?

There was a slightly open massive double doors at the end of the corridor.

As he neared the slightly open door, a soft whirring filled his ears. He felt like he had heard something similar when he was walking through the temple of eternity.

Victor narrowed his eyes because through the small gaps of the slightly ajar doors, he could see a beam of bright, crystalline light within.

It was like a pillar but it seemed as though there was something in it.

He stepped closer, curiously.

But just as he leaned forward in preparation to push the doors further open, a tap landed on his shoulder.

Victor spun instantly, unleashing his qi and ready to send a Gale Strike at the source of the tap...

Only to freeze mid-attack.

Standing behind him was none other than Rhozan.

---ss

The moment Victor turned around, his hand already halfway to his sword, he froze.

Standing behind him was Rhozan—not a guard, not an attendant, but the Rhozan himself. His tall, imposing figure cast a long shadow across the icy hallway, and the faint glow of the runic crystals embedded in the walls reflected off the elder's pale-blue skin and dark, swirling tattoos.

"You move far too quietly for someone your size," Victor muttered, loosening his grip on his blade.

Rhozan did not laugh. His expression was tense—more tense than Victor had ever seen it. "Come," he said, placing a hand on Victor's shoulder. "There are… matters we must discuss away from listening ears."

Victor frowned but followed. Rhozan's footsteps carried an unusual urgency, and Victor's eyes wandered once more to those massive sealed doors—the same ones Rhozan seemed hell-bent on keeping him away from.

They walked past them, but Victor stopped.

"Rhozan," he said firmly. "I saw what happened earlier. You were anxious—truly anxious—when you realized I was walking near those doors. What's behind them?"

Rhozan's neck stiffened. "It is nothing important."

"That's a terrible lie."

The Kahr'uun leader sighed deeply, turning his back to Victor. "It is simply… a traditional room. A sacred space meant only for myself and the priest. It is restricted to everyone else."

Victor narrowed his eyes. "A sacred room guarded by heavy runes and a spiritual pressure strong enough to make my senses twitch? And you expect me to believe it's just a tradition?"

Rhozan turned sharply, eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and fear. "Victor, please. There are things even you do not wish to be entangled with. Let us leave it at that."

Victor held his gaze for several seconds, searching for cracks in the man's expression. There were none—only genuine dread.

Whatever is behind those doors… even he fears it.

He swallowed, then nodded slowly. "Fine. I'll shelve it—for now."

The relief on Rhozan's face was unmistakable. He immediately resumed walking, leading Victor through several winding corridors until they reached a small, rune-lit chamber where no one else was present.

Victor folded his arms. "Alright. You dragged me here. What now?"

Rhozan exhaled, then straightened with a solemn expression.

"You said you had made your decision… is that true? You will help us?"

Victor nodded. "I will. That corrupted creature—whatever came into this world with your people—it's a threat to humanity too. And it needs to be dealt with."

Rhozan's stern face cracked into a visible expression of relief and joy. His shoulders relaxed, and he clasped Victor's forearm with genuine gratitude.

"You have no idea how much this means to my people," he said. "For generations we have fought this thing. Died to it. Buried our warriors because of it. But you… you might be the first hope we've had in decades."

Victor brushed dust off his robe and gave a faint smirk. "Alright, enough flattery. Let's focus on the problem. How do we find it?"

Rhozan's joyous expression dimmed.

"We don't."

Victor blinked. "What?"

"We never know where it is until it strikes." Rhozan shook his head. "Its presence in this world is unnatural. It drifts, hides, moves through the frozen lands without leaving any clear trace. When it wishes to kill, it reveals itself. Until then, it is as though it does not exist."

Victor frowned deeply. "Then how have you been hunting it?"

Rhozan walked to a stone slab table and placed his palm over a glowing rune. A map of the frozen surface appeared—vast plains of ice, jagged mountains, and swirling storm zones.

"We do not hunt it," Rhozan said grimly. "It hunts us. Always."

The weight of that statement settled heavily in the chamber.

Victor stepped closer. "If it's that aggressive, shouldn't it have found you constantly?"

"That is why we moved underground," Rhozan explained. "Our ancestors once lived on the surface. Back then, the creature attacked almost daily. Cities fell. Tribes vanished. But here—deep under the ice—it loses our trail."

Victor raised a brow. "Loses? As in… it forgets where you are?"

Rhozan nodded. "It resets. Every time we kill it, it returns to life above the surface with a scrambled memory. It knows it hates us, but not where we are. It always has to rediscover our location, and that gives us time."

Victor's heartbeat slowed.

A creature that revived itself—no, something far worse. Something corrupted, shifting, evolving.

"So if we're underground and it can't find you easily," Victor said slowly, "how do we force it to appear?"

Rhozan's face hardened.

"There is one guaranteed method. But it is… dangerous."

"Tell me."

"One of us must go to the surface. Alone."

Victor blinked again. "That's it?"

"That is enough," Rhozan replied. "The moment one of us steps into the open sky, it senses us. It feels our presence like a beacon—and it will come. Instantly."

Victor let out a low whistle. "That's quite the ability."

Rhozan nodded grimly. "And why we stay below. The more of us exposed above ground, the faster it finds us—and the more violent its attacks."

Victor paced slowly, absorbing every detail. "What about its abilities? Strength? Weaknesses? Anything I should know?"

Rhozan grimaced. "Its form is never constant. It changes. Sometimes humanoid. Sometimes beast-like. Sometimes nothing but a mass of tendrils and shadow. Corruption twists it anew every time it resurrects."

Victor felt a chill—not from the cold.

"That sounds annoying."

"And deadly," Rhozan added. "It adapts to counter whatever killed it last."

Victor's brows rose. "…Wonderful."

Rhozan placed a hand on Victor's shoulder again. "But you—your abilities, your power—give us a chance none of our warriors ever had. And knowing that you will fight, I will immediately gather a squad of our finest soldiers to accompany you to the surface."

Victor nodded. "Good. But until then, I need to prepare."

Rhozan bowed slightly. "You will have all resources you require. Train as you see fit."

He left Victor in the training hall.

---

Victor's Preparation

The chamber Rhozan provided was vast, with tall ice pillars and amplified resonance fields built for combat training. Victor drew the Legacy Sword, its metallic ring echoing beautifully across the crystalline walls. His long white hair fluttered in the cold breeze created by his own movements.

He exhaled, steadying his mind.

Void energy pulsed faintly through his veins.

He began with slow movements—sweeps, arcs, controlled strikes—feeling the familiar weight of the sword in his hand. The robes the Kahr'uun had given him flowed behind each motion like living shadows.

Then he escalated.

A boom filled the chamber as Victor activated a sliver of his Void Emperor bloodline. His presence became overwhelming, distorting the air.

He slashed—

A ripple of spatial distortion cut across the room, cleaving through ice pillars cleanly.

He pivoted—

Void energy condensed around his hand, forming a spiraling sphere of controlled death.

He stepped—

And the world blurred as he teleported a short distance, reappearing with his sword already mid-swing.

Every technique he tested was one he intended to use against the corrupted creature.

Sweat formed on his brow despite the cold.

If this thing really adapts… then the first exchange has to be devastating enough to cripple it before it learns.

He practiced for hours, refining each strike, each movement, each burst of void energy until his breathing grew heavy.

Far above him, beyond layers of ancient ice, the corrupted being existed—waiting, shifting, unknowing that its next resurrection cycle would be met by someone far more dangerous.

Victor sheathed his blade.

"I'm ready," he whispered.

And somewhere down the icy hall, Rhozan gathered warriors—completely unaware that something else, deeper in the restricted chamber, had stirred the moment Victor activated his bloodline.