Silence engulfed the Water Palace.
Ling Luo's question, "Why is it also draining your Long Qi?", hung in the desolate air. It was like a stone thrown into a lake still for a thousand years.
Xuan Yuan, the god who had accepted his fate as a matter of course, was now truly seeing her.
The flicker of confusion, of profound shock, lasted only a second before it was instantly extinguished. It was replaced by a coldness more terrifying than before—the coldness of order violated.
"You," the sound resonated in her mind, no longer flat, but carrying a distinct threat, "what did you see?"
"I saw it draining your energy!" Ling Luo recoiled, yet her voice was resolute. "It's not just taking the offerings' souls. It's devouring you! Didn't you know?"
"Be silent!"
Xuan Yuan roared. It was not a mere sound; it was a psychic tremor.
The entire Water Palace shook. The water pressure, maintained by his Long Qi, suddenly intensified. Ling Luo felt an invisible hand gripping her throat. She crumpled onto the stone floor, her chest aching, struggling to breathe.
"Mortals do not question the will of the Celestials." Xuan Yuan's voice was now ice. He had withdrawn behind the mask of an impassive god. He was furious.
"Then... you knew?" Ling Luo forced the words out, her throat raw.
"I know I am the Seal. I know I must suppress the Drought Demon. I know the offerings are the fuel. That is The Order." He spoke, seemingly convincing himself more than answering her. "Your curiosity is meaningless. It will only bring you death."
"Death?" A broken laugh escaped Ling Luo's throat. She pushed herself up. "I was sent here to die. I am not afraid of death. I only refuse a meaningless one!"
The faint image of her mother's soul, drained by the chains, flashed in her mind. Loss merged with rage, transforming into a desperate courage.
She stood tall, facing the chained god.
"You may be a god," she said, "but you are also a liar. Or worse... you are the fool who believed them."
"Impudent!"
The golden chains around Xuan Yuan rattled violently, their light dazzling. He was enraged, but he could not move. He could only punish her with pressure.
But Ling Luo did not retreat.
She had seen a fragment of the truth. She would find the rest.
She turned her back on Xuan Yuan, ignoring his fury. She walked straight to the chain she had touched earlier.
"I forbade you. Touch the Celestial Seal again, and your Shaman Blood will be burned to cinders!" Xuan Yuan roared.
"Then burn it!"
Ling Luo cried out, and instead of just "touching," this time she used all her strength, gripping her already bleeding hand around the ice-cold chain.
"AAAAA!"
The pain this time wasn't a shock—it was fire.
Her soul felt as if it had been cast into a furnace. She felt her blood boiling, steaming off her palm. Her flesh sizzled, adhering to the golden metal.
But she did not let go.
And through the utmost agony, she "saw" again. But it wasn't a memory.
No Master Void, no secret chamber, no greedy monologue.
She only "saw" energy.
She saw her mother's faint soul, screaming silently, being pulled into the chain. She saw Xuan Yuan's golden Long Qi, being forcibly drawn from his body.
And she saw both streams of energy... not flowing down, where the Drought Demon raged.
They were being siphoned upward.
They were being pulled toward the surface, toward the ritual altar, toward the one she had just walked past.
A wrong flow. A blatant theft.
"No..."
Ling Luo was thrown back from the chain. Her vision dissolved.
Her right hand was severely burned, the flesh charred black and fused. The bleeding had ceased. She trembled, gasping for breath, drenched in cold sweat. The price for the truth was too high.
She staggered to her feet.
She looked at Xuan Yuan. The god was watching her, his anger replaced by unconcealable bewilderment. He had felt the Seal's oscillation when she touched it.
"You didn't know," Ling Luo whispered, her voice husky. "You truly didn't know."
She no longer felt rage toward him. Only an infinite pity. A god, a prisoner, deceived for a thousand years, not even knowing his life was being stolen by the very people he protected.
"The Seal has been corrupted." She spoke, every word clear. "My mother's soul... and your Long Qi... they aren't flowing to the Drought Demon."
Xuan Yuan was silent. His golden eyes contracted.
"They are flowing upward."
The truth was laid bare. A piece of horrifying reality.
The silence in the Water Palace was now heavy with dread.
Xuan Yuan looked at her. He did not speak. He just slowly, slowly closed his eyes.
"Impossible." His voice hissed, no longer divine composure, but the denial of a cornered being. "That is the Celestial order. You... a mortal... what do you know of order?"
"I don't know about order," Ling Luo answered. "But I know my blood. I know what I saw. The one presiding over the rites... Master Void... He is stealing your life."
"BE SILENT!"
Xuan Yuan roared one last time. This rage carried no pressure, only a vast despair. The chains rattled violently.
He knew. He was merely denying it.
Ling Luo turned her back on the shattered god. She did not weep. Tears were meaningless now.
She looked down at her ruined hand. She had seen the truth. She had witnessed her mother's death—senseless, cruel. She had seen the enemy.
Her mother, before she died, had told her: "Don't trust the ritual. Trust the Shaman Blood. It will show you the 'truth'."
"Mother," Ling Luo whispered, "I understand."
She was no longer an offering. She was a Shamaness.
And Shamanesses do not pray. They fight.
Ling Luo walked toward the center of the hall, directly in front of Xuan Yuan. She sat down. Despite the searing pain, she used her uninjured left hand, biting her forefinger until fresh blood welled up.
She began to draw.
Using her own blood, she drew on the cold stone floor of the Water Palace. Ancient, complex lines, sigils of the Old Shaman Path she thought she had forgotten.
She wasn't fixing the Celestial Seal. She didn't have the power.
She was mapping the flow of energy she had just seen. A map. A testament.