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Chapter 6: The One Who Remembered
Laughter echoed through the Celestial Assembly Hall—a place older than time, where judgment shaped entire civilizations.
High above, celestial judges floated on pedestals of heavenly jade, draped in glowing silks, surrounded by clouds made of karma-thread. Golden law mirrors circled them like orbiting verdicts.
> "Femboys?" one chuckled, sipping starfruit wine.
"An erotic cult built on silk and seduction? Is this what passes for a calamity now?"
"Should we next fear rogue bathhouse cultivators?"
Several laughed. A few even conjured illusions of the black pamphlet and read it aloud mockingly.
But not all.
At the center of the court, the Senior Arbiter of Silence, a faceless figure of pure law, spoke coldly:
> "Enough."
The laughter died immediately.
> "You speak as children who've never heard thunder. You forget history… because it was carved out of your bones."
Silence thickened. His next words hit like a divine gavel.
> "Awaken the one who remembers."
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🕯️ The Coffin of Shenmu
High above the divine archive vault, nine golden seals unraveled one by one. Dust fell like ash from a sky that had not opened in sixty thousand years.
From the coffin rose Shenmu, the Hollow-Bark Prophet. Wrapped in dry robes, with a face drawn in agony and wisdom, he blinked into a world that had long tried to forget him.
> "You have summoned me," he rasped. "Because the Sutra... has bloomed again."
A hush swept across the court.
The judges straightened. Even the youngest among them dropped all jest.
The Sutra's name itself made the air thicken. Some cultivation pearls cracked in silence. A few blood seals faded on their own.
Shenmu leaned forward, frail as roots—but heavy with memory.
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⚠️ His Warning
> "This is not the first time it has emerged."
"We faced it once before—when the Upper Realms were younger, softer."
"The Sutra of the Blooming Void does not conquer with force. It unravels."
"It reshapes men into beauty—souls into offerings. It demands devotion, discards tradition, and infects the realms through desire.In exchange, it gives them power...savage, undeniable, unrivaled."
A cold whisper traveled through the court.
"How was it sealed?" someone asked quietly.
"Not by strength. By sacrifice. We destroyed three whole realms—entire species, sacred temples, even bloodlines of judges—to lock it away. And still... it has appeared again."
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Shenmu looked downward, as if remembering something terrifying.
"Last time, the wielder was consumed. He was powerful… but not immune. His form softened. His will frayed. He became what the Sutra shaped him to be.That was the only respite we had in the entire mess. Our only hope"
He looked up now. His clouded eyes gleamed with fear.
"This time… the wielder is untouched."
Gasps echoed quietly.
"He remains masculine. Whole. Unconverted. It's not confirmed yet, but if he was even a bit corrupted by it, we would have noticed his presence. Such complete control implies complete obedience of the sutra."
"This means the Sutra does not shape him. He shapes it."
And that meant only one thing.
The Sutra had, for the first time, found a perfect vessel. It's true master—one who commands without corruption.
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No judge spoke.
No questions were asked.
There was nothing left to doubt.
Shenmu, once feared, once forgotten, now stood as the only being in the hall whose voice felt heavier than law itself.
"He has already sealed himself behind reality. You will not find him."
"You will not trace him."
"You will not even remember his name in full, once this meeting ends."
A shiver passed through the mirror court.
"And if you wait too long… you will not have the right to stop him."
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No voice answered.
Only the sound of celestial rain beginning to fall—each drop an omen the stars could no longer hide.
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