CHAPTER 54: THE SEALED WILL

The governor’s estate stood quieter than usual. No clang of steel in the courtyard, no shouts from sparring soldiers, no scent of fresh-burnt alchemical herbs drifting from Seraphine’s chambers.

The day was still. Cold. Waiting.

Inside the central hall, Lan stood before an open window, long dark robes rustling faintly in the wind that whistled through the broken shutters.

His eyes followed the distant hills to the south—the path to the mines.

They were to visit it today, but he knew it would be a worthless endeavor. There was only one way to get what they wanted from it.

Reports from recent expeditions had barely scratched the surface of what lay beneath. Already, they’d encountered strange crystals and violent reactions to mana presence. Going deeper without preparation would be suicide.

He raised a hand and summoned the panel.

[Spiritual Will: Ascendant (Locked)]

His eyes narrowed.

That was the first chain.

The second?

Talisman paper.

"Seraphine should be ready," he muttered to himself.

Turning from the window, Lan made his way through the stone corridors, the estate now refurbished from the dusty mess it once was.

Guards from both the Mad Vipers and the Black Fangs bowed respectfully as he passed—some still bearing the signs of recent battles, others wearing the Soul Brand etched onto their necks.

He found Seraphine hunched over a table in her alchemy chamber, ink-stained fingers delicately sorting fine-spun reeds and pulped bark fibers into bowls.

Her golden braid was tucked under a soot-black cloth, her robe sleeves rolled above her elbows.

"You look like a ghost," Lan said.

"I feel like one," she muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. "But I assume you’re not here to compliment my lack of sleep."

"No," Lan said. "I need your help."

He explained what he needed: special talisman paper, capable of holding spiritual impressions without crumbling under the strain of formation drawing.

Her eyes lit up before he was even halfway through.

"I’ve already been working on something similar," she said, moving to the corner where she’d stacked various dried barks and fibrous sheets. "It won’t be perfect—not yet—but I’ve discovered a process using Everleaf pulp and snowroot ash. It’s stable and resonant... and more importantly, it doesn’t burn when Qi is channeled into it."

Lan raised a brow. "And how soon can I get a dozen?"

"Give me two days," she said confidently.

He nodded. "Then begin at once."

She turned, already returning to her workbench with a flurry of tools in her hands. But he hesitated before turning away.

"There’s something else," he said. "I won’t be around."

She looked over her shoulder.

"I’m going into seclusion. A week, maybe more. I need to break into the next realm—and I can’t risk distractions. While I’m gone, I’m leaving everything in your hands."

Seraphine blinked, then offered a tired smile. "So I’m the regent now?"

He smirked faintly. "Don’t let it get to your head."

She rummaged through one of her locked drawers and pulled out a small, ornate box. Within were six golden pills, glowing faintly with embedded Qi threads.

"These were never meant to be used yet," she said, "but they’ll do more good now than sitting on a shelf." She handed the box to him.

Lan took them reverently. "Thank you."

—

Later that afternoon, Lan stood before the gathered leaders of the Vipers and the Fangs in the main hall.

Venom stepped forward. "Everything’s quiet on the southern roads. The Black Fangs are already reinforcing the watch towers along the trade route."

"Good," Lan said. "For the next seven days, I’ll be in seclusion. You’re to continue patrols, fortify the mines’ entrance, and keep the central district calm. If any trouble comes, deal with it—quietly."

"What about the Ash Tongue remnants?" Bragg asked, arms crossed.

Lan’s eyes hardened. "If they crawl back from the shadows, sever their roots. But don’t pursue them beyond our borders yet. We need to consolidate."

Bragg nodded once, no more questions.

Lan’s gaze moved over the room. All of them had changed in the past days. Where once stood mercenaries, bandits, and broken swords—now stood warriors shaped by discipline, and more importantly, by vision.

His vision.

He offered one last command.

"If I’m not out by the eighth day—send Seraphine."

—

The chamber was deep in the earth, carved beneath the stone foundations of the estate—a relic from a time when Solaris nobles had built hidden shelters and vaults during the old wars.

Now, it was to be Lan’s crucible.

The door closed with a whisper.

Lan seated himself on a stone platform in the center. He placed the six pills at the edge of his meditation ring and inhaled slowly.

These were Black Dragon Elixirs, they’d cost him two dozen fortunes to acquire in his last world, and yet Seraphine just gave it to him.

His mind calmed. His breath slowed. His heartbeat faded to a whisper.

He saw the panel behind his eyes.

[Current Realm: Foundation Establishment – Tier II]

[Progress to Core Formation: 58%]

[Spiritual Will: Ascendant (Locked)]

The room dimmed as if the world exhaled.

A low hum filled his bones, a vibration that ran through the floor, his body, and the spiritual sea within him.

He took the first pill.

The energy exploded within, pure and potent. It wasn’t a burn—it flooded. His veins expanded, meridians opening wider as they accepted the surge of refined Qi.

And then he felt it—the beginning of compression. His spiritual sea began to swirl, slowly collapsing inward like a whirlpool.

That was the sign he was ready for Core Formation.

But he still had a chain binding him.

[Spiritual Will: Ascendant – Locked.]

Without it, the core would be unstable. It would crack under its own weight. Lan shut his eyes.

The world turned black.

And from that darkness... a light emerged.

Ghostly. Mirror-like.

Xie Wuchen stood before him again, hovering slightly above the stone platform, hands behind his back, eyes gleaming with cosmic weight.

"Back again," Wuchen said.

Lan didn’t reply. He simply bowed his head slightly.

Xie smiled faintly. "Then let us begin."

The spirit raised one hand, and a veil of stars poured from his palm—symbols of ancient understanding, diagrams of internal cultivation, maps of spiritual oceans.

Xie Wuchen’s voice echoed in the chamber, low and resonant.

"This time to ascend... you must be willing to allow collapse."

Lan breathed in. The second pill shimmered in his palm.

And he swallowed it.