As Nan Huairen finished recounting the origin of Divine Raven Peak, Li Qiye's lips curved slightly.
The so‑called "Divine Raven" was nothing more than a tribute by Emperor Mingren's generals to commemorate him — the ancient EternalRaven himself.
### The Black Triangular Hall
The Triangular Hall at the peak was not large, yet its entire body was black as ink, as though forged from divine black iron — dense, heavy, and eternal.
None in the sect knew what it was made of; they only knew that no force could scar it. It had endured endless eras unbroken.
Li Qiye and Nan Huairen stood before the dark hall, a quiet awe rising within.
Empires had fallen, mountains crumbled — but this hall stood forever.
Its mystery was beyond mortal comprehension.
Yet what drew Li Qiye's eye was not the hall itself, but the towering shrine before it.
Seated within that shrine was a man —
broad‑shouldered, unkempt, his face lost beneath a beard and tangled hair. He sat motionless as stone, grass even growing upon his shoulders.
Had his chest not moved slightly with breath, one would think him a corpse of ages past.
The most striking sight was the thick black chains bound around his limbs — chains of Black‑Spider Cold Iron. Even Marquis‑rank masters rarely saw such material; its name alone was enough to shake the world.
To use such precious metal for imprisonment — what sort of being could warrant this?
More curiously, his calm demeanor suggested willing confinement rather than force.
"That's the Guardian of the Triangular Hall," Nan Huairen whispered. "No one knows his story. Only that he's been there longer than memory."
"Why the chains?" Li Qiye asked quietly.
"No one knows," Nan replied. "Some say he committed an unforgivable crime; others say he chains himself as penance. Even my master doesn't know how long."
Li Qiye nodded lightly, ending the topic, and stepped into the hall.
### The Watcher Awakens
The moment he and Nan crossed the threshold, the man in the shrine opened his eyes.
Instantly — light as cold as blades pierced the sky.
That gaze cut through ages, splitting the shroud of eternity itself.
Even a Marquis King would shudder before that silent will.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the light vanished. His eyes closed again, as if nothing had ever happened.
### Within the Triangular Hall
The hall looked small from outside, but inside was a different world.
The moment they stepped in, space expanded vastly — tens of thousands of mu in area. Three immense buildings rose in a triangular formation, each connected by glowing corridors of divine runes.
It had been refined long ago through peerless art, its inner realm a separate heaven.
Nan Huairen guided him.
"That's the Scripture Vault, that's the Armory, and the last one is the Treasure Hall. Each holds a Protector to guard its contents — manuals, weapons, and divine materials respectively. No disciple may take from them without a Protector's seal."
"Which first, Senior Brother?"
"The Scripture Vault," Li Qiye answered, his tone casual.
### The Scripture Vault
Eight elite disciples watched the entrance, while a Protector personally verified the Grand Elder's order before granting entry.
Inside, Li Qiye stood amid a sea of books and scrolls —
towering columns, endless shelves, rows that disappeared into fog.
Even now, its grandeur spoke of how magnificent the Washing‑Dust Sect had once been.
Several disciples roamed between shelves, searching for techniques.
Nan Huairen, ever amiable, greeted each with a smile.
Li Qiye, however, was a different story — the newly appointed Chief Disciple, a controversial figure whispered about in every corner.
Though the sect was a shadow of its glory, its holier‑than‑thou pride remained.
A mortal body, mortal wheel, mortal fate — made Chief Disciple? An insult, they thought.
Many of the third‑generation disciples, talented and battle‑tested, had never been offered such a title. Now it belonged to a boy they deemed worthless — resentment was inevitable.
They would not dare challenge the elders' orders openly, but none bothered to greet him with respect.
Whispers spread as soon as he entered.
"So that's Li Qiye?" one muttered, watching like a collector eyeing a curiosity.
"Heard he got his Ancient Order by cozying up to Elder Sanxiao."
"Not just that," another snorted. "They say he pampered the old pervert for ten days straight at the Crimson Fragrance House."
"Ten days? Get it right — it was ten years! He reserved the whole brothel, two twin courtesans included! Three years of service for that Ancient Order!"
Their tales grew more outlandish with each tongue, spreading like smoke through the vault — from ten days to ten years, from one favor to debauched legend.
To them, Li Qiye had risen not through ability, but through shameless corruption.
Mocking smiles, taunting eyes, and soft snickers floated through the air like dust.
And yet Li Qiye's expression did not change.
His gaze was calm, his breath even — as if their noise were nothing but wind on stone.
Let them talk; to him, it was all just ashes in the breeze.