Whatever power had created the illusion earlier had not pursued Han Yu, nor had any formation or guardian beast emerged from within.

The ruins were dormant, silent once more.

So, he decided to observe.

Han Yu chose a spot beneath a large willow-like tree near the edge of the clearing.

The drooping branches shielded him from direct sight, and the soft undergrowth muffled his presence. He used a few small concealment talismans, layering them lightly to suppress his Qi signature, and then settled in.

For the rest of that night, he watched the ruins in silence.

The faint glow of the false stars above bathed the landscape in a ghostly light. The walls stood unmoving. The mist drifted lazily. Nothing stirred.

By dawn, Han Yu's exhaustion caught up to him, and he let himself rest. When he woke, the ruins were still the same.

And so his silent vigil began...

For four days, Han Yu moved around the perimeter, never approaching too close but never leaving sight of the walls. Each day he chose a different direction: north, east, west, and south... or at least what he guessed what they were.

He had read up about tombs during this expedition, they were supposed to face the south or southeast. So if he considered the towers with the moon crest as south, the rest of the directions made sense.

He spent a night in each position to study the structure from multiple angles.

The forest around the ruins remained eerily consistent. There were no birds, no beasts, no insects. The only sounds were the faint rustle of leaves and his own breathing. Even Chitterfang seemed uneasy, rarely venturing from Han Yu's shoulder.

The small beast often buried itself inside his robes when the silence grew too heavy.

During the afternoons, when the mist thinned slightly, Han Yu took the opportunity to examine the ruins in more detail from afar. From the northern side, he noticed additional carvings on the stone towers.

They were faint, mottled from time, and partially hidden beneath vines and cracks. The patterns were intricate but hard to interpret. Some appeared to be scenes of people bowing before a radiant sphere, others resembled stars arranged in strange constellations.

Han Yu tried to sketch them roughly in his notes, but the distance made accuracy difficult. Still, even the incomplete fragments told him that this place was built with deliberate symbolism.

"Whoever made this," he murmured one evening, "they wanted to leave behind something more than just a resting place."

'At least there's nothing bad happening...' By the end of the fourth night, Han Yu felt both disappointed and relieved.

No strange lights. No voices. No movement.

Only the endless stillness of a graveyard too old for the living to disturb.

He almost convinced himself that the earlier illusion had been a lingering remnant of a broken formation, something triggered by coincidence rather than intent. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to believe it.

But on the fifth night, that illusion of calm shattered.

Han Yu chose to rest near what he had come to consider the front of the tomb, the same place where he had first seen the bleeding moon illusion. The air felt heavier that night, though he could not tell if it was his nerves or something else.

He set up a small campfire and ate quietly, Chitterfang perched beside him nibbling on a nut.

"Tomorrow, we'll move farther east," Han Yu whispered. "Just one more round, then we decide what to do."

Chitterfang squeaked softly, curling up near his arm.

The fire burned low, and soon Han Yu's eyelids grew heavy. The fatigue of several sleepless nights caught up to him, and his body demanded rest. He leaned back against a tree trunk, keeping his halberd across his lap out of habit, and slowly drifted into slumber.

Rumble

He did not know how long he had been asleep when the ground began to tremble.

At first, it was faint, like the distant roll of thunder. The earth vibrated gently beneath him, and he stirred in his sleep. Then, within seconds, the vibration intensified. The loose soil around the roots shifted, and his body jolted awake.

"Huh?!" Han Yu shot up, his eyes wide.

The trembling grew stronger, sending small stones rolling down the sloped ground. His instincts flared instantly, Qi surging to the surface as he grabbed his Halberd.

"What's happening?" he hissed.

For a terrifying moment, he thought it might be a beast tide. The image of hundreds of spirit beasts charging through the trees filled his mind. Having already experienced them during the expedition, he was wary of them and knew how terrifying they were.

Alone, he would be able to do nothing against it.

But as he extended his spiritual sense outward, he felt nothing resembling a beast's presence. The forest was still empty of life.

SQUEEEK!!~

Chitterfang leaped out of his robe, chittering in alarm. The little creature tugged sharply at his hair, forcing his head upward.

And then Han Yu saw it.

HOOOONG

From beyond the treeline, a beam of red light shot into the sky.

It pierced through the darkness like a spear of flame, bright and solid, connecting the ground to the heavens. The sheer intensity of it made his heart skip. The light was coming from within the ruins, directly from one of the tall towers.

HOOOONG HOOOONG HOOOONG

Before he could even process it, another beam erupted to the left, followed by another farther back. Within moments, a dozen crimson pillars blazed across the night sky.

Each one rose straight and unwavering, touching the illusory heavens above. The towers burned like torches of divine fire, their brilliance staining the clouds with red hues. The air pulsed with power, so strong that Han Yu could feel it vibrating in his bones.

"What in the heavens…" he whispered in awe.

The ground quaked again, heavier this time.

Dust lifted from the earth in thin clouds. The trees shivered violently, and ripples of Qi spread outward from the direction of the tomb.