The stone doors creaked open, revealing a vast underground chamber bathed in a dim red glow. Kalen and Sorin stepped forward cautiously, their senses heightened by the lingering energy of the trials they had just completed. The air in this chamber felt ancient, thick with untapped power and knowledge that had been locked away for centuries. Their eyes fell on the altar at the far end of the room, where an array of ancient scrolls and relics lay, shimmering faintly in the crimson light.
Sorin whistled under his breath. **"So, this is what they were protecting. The real secrets of the Crimson Conclave."**
Kalen nodded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the chamber. The feeling of being watched lingered, as though the shadows themselves were alive with some hidden force. **"Let’s not assume we’re alone just yet."**
Together, they moved towards the altar. The moment Kalen laid his hand on the first scroll, a surge of energy pulsed through him, as though the very knowledge contained within was eager to imprint itself upon him. His Frozen Flame flickered in response, reacting to the ancient power.
**"These scrolls… they’re more than just cultivation techniques,"** Kalen murmured, his voice filled with awe. **"They’re fragments of the Conclave’s deepest knowledge—an understanding of immortality itself."**
Sorin stood beside him, eyeing the scrolls carefully. **"But they won’t just hand this power over, will they? There’s always a price."**
As if in answer to Sorin’s question, the chamber began to hum with a deep, resonant sound. From the shadows, a figure emerged—one that was both familiar and foreign. It was the same robed figure from their trial, but now his form was more defined, his presence heavier.
**"You seek the secrets of the Conclave,"** the figure said, his voice echoing in the chamber. **"But with power comes responsibility, and with responsibility comes sacrifice. The path of immortality is not one of pure strength or technique. It is a journey of the soul."**
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Kalen frowned. **"We've already faced your trials. We’ve proven ourselves worthy."**
The figure nodded. **"You have passed the trials of the Conclave. But there is one final decision to be made—one that will determine not only your path but the legacy of the Conclave itself."**
Sorin folded his arms. **"And what exactly is that decision?"**
The robed figure gestured towards the altar. **"The knowledge contained here is beyond any sect, any clan. It is the culmination of thousands of years of cultivation, experimentation, and sacrifice. You can take it and use it for your own gain, or you can preserve it, becoming the guardians of this knowledge, ensuring that it is not misused."**
Kalen and Sorin exchanged glances. The weight of the decision pressed down on them. The temptation of power was strong—these were techniques and insights that could propel them to heights they had never dreamed of. But the figure’s words echoed in Kalen’s mind. The legacy of the Conclave… to guard such power, to ensure it was not misused, was a burden unlike any other.
**"What would happen if this knowledge fell into the wrong hands?"** Kalen asked, his voice steady but filled with concern.
The figure’s gaze darkened. **"It would lead to chaos. Wars would be fought over it. Entire realms could be torn apart by the greed and ambition of those who seek ultimate power without understanding its cost."**
Sorin sighed, running a hand through his hair. **"So, we either become the most powerful cultivators in existence, or we lock this all away and play the role of guardians?"**
Kalen stared at the altar, feeling the pulsing energy of the scrolls. He could sense the vast potential within them, but at the same time, he knew that power without control, power without wisdom, was dangerous.
**"I came here seeking strength to destroy my enemies, to protect those I care about,"** Kalen said softly. **"But I’ve learned that true strength isn’t about dominating others. It’s about knowing when to hold back, when to protect rather than destroy."**
Sorin glanced at him, a faint smile on his lips. **"You’ve changed, Kalen. The old you would’ve taken that power without hesitation."**
Kalen nodded. **"Maybe I have. But the path of immortality isn’t just about becoming stronger. It’s about rising above the instincts that once ruled us."**
Sorin sighed. **"Well, if you’re going to be all noble about it, I guess I can’t leave you alone to guard this place."** He turned to the figure. **"We’ll protect the knowledge. But we’ll also use what we learn to make sure no one can ever threaten us—or anyone else—again."**
The figure smiled faintly, a look of approval in his eyes. **"You have chosen wisely. The Conclave’s secrets are now yours to protect, and in doing so, you will become more than just cultivators. You will become the keepers of balance."**
With that, the robed figure began to fade, his form dissolving into the crimson light. The chamber, once filled with tension, now felt calm, almost serene. The altar remained, the scrolls still shimmering, but the weight of the decision had been lifted.
Kalen and Sorin stood in silence for a moment, both processing the gravity of what had just transpired.
**"So, what now?"** Sorin asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.
Kalen took a deep breath. **"We study. We grow. And when the time comes, we protect."**
As they turned to leave the chamber, the crimson light began to fade, and the ancient knowledge of the Crimson Conclave rested in their hands, waiting for the moment when it would be needed most.