Lord of the void realm

Raizen stood at the edge of a crumbled cliff, wind howling through the gaps in the stone like the cries of spirits too tired to move on. The forest behind him had gone silent—too silent. Even the insects seemed to know not to follow him here.

Before him stretched a barren ridge overlooking the northern edge of the Spiritwild Continent, where cracked rocks bled faint traces of void energy into the air. A place whispered about in wandering cultivator camps and old scrolls alike: Whisperscar Plateau.

He didn't come here by choice.

He was being hunted.

Not by beasts. Not by sects. But by a masked man who hadn't spoken a single word since he appeared two days ago. The man had followed Raizen through valleys, forests, rivers—even void-shifted zones. No aura. No name. Just a relentless chase. Raizen didn't know why. But he knew one thing: the man wasn't ordinary.

He could survive Raizen's void traps.

And he was getting closer.

Raizen turned from the cliff and vanished. A flicker. Space twisted. He reappeared on a narrow bridge of stone stretching between two broken hills, then again behind a boulder covered in claw marks.

"Just go away already."

He didn't mean it for the man.

He meant it for the damn pressure growing in his chest—the kind that warned him this wasn't just a normal chase. The kind that meant something bigger was watching.

Suddenly, a flicker of black mist brushed the corner of his vision.

He spun—nothing.

No, not nothing. A ripple in space.

He gritted his teeth. Again?

This was the third one today. Not a person. Not an attack. Just a... tear.

He moved closer, cautious. It hovered above a dead tree stump like a scar in the air, pulsing faintly with void light. Unlike his own portals, this one was unstable—alive and twitching like something wanted to crawl out of it.

Raizen frowned. "You're not one of mine."

He raised his hand. The void around his palm condensed sharply, forming a blade of compressed dimensional energy. One swing—and the tear sealed shut with a shriek like a crying beast.

The air quieted again. Too quiet.

Then came the voice.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Raizen's eyes narrowed. It wasn't the masked man's voice. This one was layered—like multiple people speaking in unison. Male. Female. Child. Ancient.

He turned slowly.

There, standing atop a blackened ridge, was a figure draped in robes that looked stitched from shadows. No face. Just a white mask with a single vertical slit.

"You've drawn the Plateau's gaze," it said.

Raizen didn't answer. He didn't need to. Instead, he opened a void anchor beneath his foot, shifted forward, and slashed—straight for the masked figure's throat.

But when his blade struck, it passed through smoke.

Illusion?

No—projection.

Raizen leapt back, crouched low.

"Who are you?"

The mask turned slightly. "A memory. Left behind for those who think they can wield the void without price."

Raizen's eye twitched. So it's tied to this place after all.

He'd come to Whisperscar Plateau chasing a clue about the Vault of Silence, said to be one of the oldest void sanctums in the world—untouched, unbroken, and abandoned long before the Immortal Sects fractured. But now it seemed the land itself had its own guardians... or curses.

"You think I'm afraid of a memory?" Raizen asked flatly.

The masked figure raised a hand and pointed behind him.

The wind shifted.

Raizen turned—

And froze.

The masked man.

He was standing there now, just a few meters away.

Still silent.

Still watching.

But this time... Raizen could feel it.

The man was no longer hunting.

He was waiting.

For the Plateau to decide.

The ground trembled. Thin cracks split across the dirt, forming an ancient symbol—one Raizen didn't recognize.

The masked memory spoke again.

"Step forward, and the Vault may open. Step back, and it will vanish for another thousand years."

Raizen's eyes narrowed.

Another trap?

Another test?

He didn't care.

He stepped forward.

And the world dropped.

—

He landed inside a pitch-dark cavern, void energy coiling around him like smoke from a smothered fire. Ahead, twin obelisks stood on either side of a massive stone gate. Carvings of stars, dragons, and shattered realms pulsed with dim light. The Vault of Silence.

Raizen walked slowly, hand on his side, ready for anything.

If this was a true void inheritance, he might not survive.

But if he did...

He would no longer be a threat to the world.

He would be the reason the world trembled.