“What happened to the last cultivator that tried to seize this artifact by force?” Yao Shen’s words echoed in the sealed chamber, his tone unprecedentedly grave. His gaze remained trained upon the contents of the unsealed cauldron, a bead of sweat inadvertently running down his chin.

“The records are spotty on the matter,” Wenjun Long answered, the surprise in his words evident. “But there was at least one Elder in the distant past that tried to seek dominion over this artifact.”

“The artifact consumed his psyche,” Kang Long interrupted. “Corrupted his will, leaving behind a demon that knew only how to wreak terror on the world. The Patriarch of the Sect was powerful enough to slay the cultivator but Yao Shen, if the same were to happen today…” He trailed off, not willing to besmirch Yao Shen’s reputation.

“Do not underestimate a Soul Emperor,” Yao Shen calmly responded, his words devoid of any pride. “Rest assured, I may not be able to conquer the artifact but it does not have the capability to devour my psyche.”

Kang Long nodded, his expression relaxing.

“Leave and shut the door behind you. Until my attempt is concluded, I shall consider any attempt to encroach upon this chamber as an attack on my person. Do so at your own peril,” Yao Shen warned, his expression conveying the severity of his threat.

“Very well,” Wenjun Long acknowledged without any argument. .

The sound of the chamber’s door clicking back into place echoed out, leaving Yao Shen alone in the darkness. He observed the luminescence leave the Heaven’s Veilstone, the fleeting rare material that had been brimming with life merely moments ago, sinking back into the calm solitude it was used to.

Then, Yao Shen’s left knee buckled under the invisible pressure that was assailing him, forcing him down to one knee.

Nestled in the center of the cauldron was the seemingly inert artifact that had brought a Soul Emperor to his knees, both its design and the sheer intricacies of its make unlike any Yao Shen had witnessed before.

Forged from a mottled gray metal, a simple forging hammer no longer than the length of his arm had captured his attention. Its squared-off face was covered in lines of greater runescript, the complexity of the script leagues beyond his present understanding of the subject.

Yao Shen calmly examined the hammer in an attempt to identify the metal used to forge the esoteric artifact, only to dejectedly shake his head a single time.

An alloy was the likely answer, but unlike Earth, the Modern Sect did not have any tools to ascertain an alloy’s composition. The Dwarves likely did, but their methods were equally as far out of Yao Shen’s reach.

Though the rest of the metallic hammer seemed relatively ordinary in comparison, Yao Shen had noticed the depression its weight had left upon the cauldron’s curvature. His expression was stoic as he studied the chain that looped around the Dwarven hammer’s base, physically linking it to a second artifact.

An almost perfectly cylindrical baton lay inert next to the hammer, its diameter about the length of his wrist. Every inch of its surface was etched with lines of greater runescript, the script far more densely packed in comparison to the hammer.

While he did not understand the mechanics involved in the artifact’s design and construction, Yao Shen was not oblivious to its purpose.

Though they had not outright admitted it, both Kang Long and Wenjun Long had revealed enough for Yao Shen to understand the significance of the artifact.

The key to harnessing the potential of Lumenite Ore rested dormant before him. Only, he was certain that the greater runescript running across the dual artifacts wasn’t supposed to emanate such a malevolent carmine red light.

“I had thought my Dao of Sapience limited, confined by my own understanding of the various races. I had believed my understanding and insights limited to Humans, as it is the race that I belong to,” Yao Shen’s tone was soft and contemplative as he examined the artifact, his Human Sight clouded with a raging swirl of the same carmine red that he had noticed on the artifact, except the smothering tempest of the emotion ‘hatred’ left him reeling for breath; such being it’s intensity.

“Is it my Dao of Sapience that has a larger scope than I initially thought it to? No, I have yet to meet a Dwarf in the flesh, let alone grasp at the nuances of their language and cultural heritage. If I had to come to a conclusion….,” Yao Shen trailed off, his expression firm as he began to fight back against the all-consuming hatred that sought to devour his will; painting his psyche in the only expression it understood: destruction.

It was no wonder that the cultivators who had tried to claim the Dwarven Artifact before him had gone insane.

“....I would say that your hatred is simply very human.”

Those words seemed to serve as the catalyst for Yao Shen’s counter-offensive. If he wanted to, he could deactivate his Human Sight and free himself from the stifling pressure that seemed to want to crush him like a vise.

But no.

“I want to see who you are,” Yao Shen declared between gritted teeth as he stood back onto two feet in defiance of what he suspected to be an artifact spirit. A very powerful artifact spirit, at that.

One step.

Two steps.

A third.

And then a fourth.

“Show yourself to me, Vondar the Scholar. Tell me your story,” Yao Shen bellowed as his right hand wrapped around the hammer’s hilt, giving voice to his suspicions without holding anything back. From one Soul Emperor to another, Yao Shen had recognized the vestiges of power contained within the artifact, a Soul that matched, if not surpassed, his own in potency.

For a long moment, there was no response from the seemingly inert artifact.

Then, Yao Shen realized that his reality had been upended by an infinite landscape of red.