The mountain groaned as though something ancient within it struggled to wake. Dust trembled down from the broken beams of the hermitage roof. Leng Yue's blade was already half-drawn when Li Wei raised a hand for silence. His eyes were half-lidded, fixed on the faint quiver of runes beneath the temple floor.
"Evidently," he murmured, "the commotion from below must be addressed. It is only a matter of time before the serpent incarnate rises."
His fingers wove through the air, the gestures precise and deliberate. Each movement ignited faint sigils in the air—runes that shimmered gold before fading into the stone. The old mechanism beneath the seal clicked, deep and resonant. ~Krrkkk… thunk…~
The floor parted in a slow spiral, releasing a breath of air so cold it froze the ground beneath their feet. A staircase of cool black stone revealed itself, descending into the heart of Mount Lian.
