A deep gong echoed across the void, sending ripples through the air like invisible brushstrokes.
This time, the system space was different. It did not bloom or blaze.
Instead, it bled.
Ink poured in slow plumes across a boundless scroll that stretched beneath his feet — as if he stood atop an infinite piece of rice paper stretching into eternity.
Ink bled across the distance in long, deliberate strokes — some delicate, some furious. Others simply existed like ghosts of forgotten thoughts. The air pulsed with tension, like the moment just before a master signs his name.
A brushstroke appeared overhead — midair, blazing crimson — slicing silently through the sky like shooting stars. The air smelled of old paper, burnt lacquer, and something else… something ancient.
[SYSTEM PROMPT: ELEVENTH DESCENT INITIATED]
Instructor: Qi Sheng – The Blade of the Ink
Skills: Line Flow, Negative Space, Narrative Contour, Brush Control
