The moment Yun stepped inside the ninth chamber of the Celestial Under-Hall, the air felt… thicker. Heavy like wet paint that hadn't dried for ten thousand years. Even breathing felt like dragging color into his lungs.

Shen Yu walked two steps behind him, silent, watching his every move like a hawk that had personally raised the chick now learning to fly. Zhen and Mu Qing stayed near the entrance—Mu Qing trembling slightly, Zhen pretending he wasn't scared but his hands said otherwise.

The walls began to glow.

Not with light but with strokes.

Brush strokes.

Long ones, short ones, curled ones, slashed ones, some gentle like poems, others sharp like anger. The whole chamber felt alive, like someone angry had once drawn reality here and it hadn't stopped breathing since.

Yun swallowed hard. "So… this is the Bound Brush Echo?"

Shen Yu didn't answer. He just pointed forward.

And the floor cracked.

Out of the cracks spilled ink—black, violent, moving like snakes. It slithered up into a shape slowly forming… into a man. Or at least a man-shaped shadow, built entirely of brush strokes, each line trembling as if wanting to erase itself.

It didn't have a face.

Just an outline.

But Yun felt like it was staring straight into him anyway.

The Bound Brush Echo.

A remnant of the ancient Daiost Brush Master's power

The echo of his will, his regrets, his unfinished fury.

And it smelled Yun's bloodline. It froze.

Then trembled.

Then pointed straight at him.

"Why does it look like it knows you?" Zhen whispered.

Yun didn't know.

But the Echo lunged.

The Echo attacked like a storm—every movement was a brush stroke, every swipe left glowing trails that cut through stone like paper.

Yun barely dodged the first strike. The second grazed his cheek, drawing a line of shimmering gold blood.

The Echo stopped for a moment, shocked.

Shen Yu inhaled sharply. "…It really recognizes your lineage."

Before Yun could ask what that meant, the Echo moved again—faster, sharper, the lines shaping into weapons:

twin spear-strokes

sword-slashes

calligraphy symbols that exploded like fireworks

Yun countered instinctively. His awakened bloodline surged up his spine, heat pouring into his veins.

Not flame

but silver lightning, the mark of the Celestial Progenitor.

He drew a shape in the air the same way the Brush Master did.

A crooked line.

A messy, slightly shaky line.

But the air pulsed.

A silver arc blasted outward. The impact shattered the Echo's left arm into black dust.

Zhen shouted, "THAT WAS AMAZING— wait no it's reforming—YUN RUN—"

The arm reassembled instantly.

Yun grinned despite himself. "Good! Then it won't break too easy."

His grin was definitely the kind Shen Yu hated.

Because it meant Yun was about to do something stupid.

Right when the Echo raised its blade-like arm again, a streak of pale-blue light crashed into the chamber.

A figure rolled into existence, coughing and shaking ink off their hair.

A girl. Around Yun's age, maybe slightly older. Wearing ink-stained robes from the illusion world. Eyes bright like moonlit water.

Yun recognized her instantly —

The girl created from the third illusion layer.

The one who fought beside him against the White Lotus Beast.

The one he accidentally saved when everything collapsed.

She looked at Yun, eyes widening.

"…So this is real?" she whispered. "I wasn't supposed to survive that illusion…"

Shen Yu almost choked. "Why—why is an illusion projection manifesting physically?!"

The girl smiled faintly. "Maybe because someone pulled me out."

She looked at Yun.

Yun looked away, ears red.

Zhen leaned to Mu Qing and whispered, "Ahhh he's blushing—Shen Yu's gonna tease him"

Shen Yu did open his mouth to tease

But the Bound Brush Echo roared and cut the air.

Ink blades flew toward them.

The illusion-born girl raised her hand—

and an elegant brush-stroke barrier bloomed before her.

She blocked the attack cleanly.

Yun's jaw dropped.

Shen Yu rubbed his temples.

Zhen screamed internally.

"Who are you?!" Zhen shouted.

She bowed politely. "My name is Lan'ruo. And in the illusion, Yun saved my life. So I… came with him."

Yun scratched his head. "Uh… I didn't mean to bring you out actually. It just kinda… happened when the illusion exploded."

Lan'ruo smiled. "Even accidents can be fate."

Now Yun REALLY looked away.

Meanwhile…

Far beyond the Celestial Sky, in the dark void where stars bled old memories, Yun's parents were fighting for their lives.

Seven Hunters descended on their territory, each one wrapped in shifting void-skins that devoured light.

His father clashed with one, shaking constellations.

His mother swept her sleeve, cutting entire nebula arms.

But even so

They were being pushed back.

Yueran wiped cosmic dust from her cheek, breath uneven. "They're smarter this time. They know we're weakened after forcing open that illusion corridor to watch Yun."

Lianxing growled, "Let them come. I'll erase them all myself."

But then the dimensional crystal in his palm flickered.

He froze.

"That energy… Yun awakened another stage."

Yueran's eyes widened. "So soon? That means the Brush Echo—"

"He's facing it right now." His father's voice trembled not with fear but pride. "Good. Let him struggle. Let him grow."

A Hunter's blade pierced his shoulder.

He didn't even look at it.

While Yun fought the Echo, his blood began to hum again.

But this time, it wasn't warmth.

It wasn't fire.

It wasn't lightning.

It was… a voice.

No, a memory.

Not his memory.

One older than empires.

Older than stars.

Older than history.

A deep voice whispered inside him:

"Little Star… return."

Yun staggered.

Lan'ruo shouted his name.

Shen Yu reached for him.

But Yun couldn't hear them clearly.

Because suddenly he wasn't in his body.

He was standing somewhere else—

A throne room made of galaxies.

A crown floating above a broken seat.

And a colossal figure sitting in darkness.

A figure with eyes like his own.

"Come home," the voice whispered again.

The Calling.

The truth behind the dreams.

Behind the illusions.

Behind his bloodline.

He tried to speak, but the world shattered around him—

And he returned to the chamber just in time for the Echo's final attack.

The Bound Brush Echo raised both arms.

Ink boiled around it.

It was preparing a massive, final stroke.

Yun wiped the blood from his lip.

"Shen Yu. Zhen. Mu Qing. Lan'ruo."

They all looked at him.

He grinned a bit crookedly. "I have an idea. It's probably stupid. But it'll work."

Shen Yu sighed. "Those two sentences contradict each other—"

But Yun was already moving.

He remembered something from the illusions:

The Echo wasn't alive.

It was instinct.

It reacted to brush strokes.

So Yun lifted his hand and—

He made a terrible, ugly, shaky, uneven stroke in the air.

It was SO BAD that Shen Yu flinched physically.

The Echo froze, confused.

It tilted its head like a dog hearing a new noise.

Yun whispered, "Lan'ruo, hit it now."

She did.

Her clean, perfect stroke shattered the Echo's core.

The entire being ripped apart, dissolving into ribbons of ink that faded into smoke.

Silence.

Then Zhen shouted:

"WAH—HE BEAT IT WITH UGLINESS!!"

Shen Yu rubbed his temples. "That… was cunning. Horrifying. But cunning."

Lan'ruo laughed softly. "It worked. That's what matters."

Yun exhaled shakily. "Yeah. It worked."

But inside his chest

The Calling whispered again.

"Come home, little star..."

And Yun shivered.

Because now he understood something:

The Calling wasn't just a whisper.

It was a command.

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