Warmth Of Winter – Part 5

A loud crashing sound reverberated throughout the cavern and Zhurong quickly pressed himself against the narrow wall of the cave to avoid the sharp icy pike that fell upon the rocky floor and shattered into a thousand shards.

The orange flame in Zhurong's hands flickered as his heartbeat fastened in response to the adrenaline running in his veins. With eyes wide in trepidation, the silver haired boy looked around sharply, looking for more dangerous icy stalactites waiting to take his life.

'…What the hell is wrong with this place…? The cavern out was not this cold…' The flame of Infinite Pure Yang had settled snugly once more, in his fist. And as the only source of light in the shadowy cave, it burned brightly as a beacon, often attracting the attention of a few cave dwelling bats.

Zhurong would have shivered as he went deeper and deeper into the cave, exploring dark underground passages untouched by humanity, if not for the rigorous Yang Chi in his body. As he went deeper, the cold chilling sensation eventually became more prominent, and a lone gale from somewhere deep inside often left Zhurong tittering his teeth.

The silver haired boy really would have been frozen to a popsicle by now, if not for the bright flame in his hands and the vigorous vitality of Yang inside his body. FrostMoon Art's Chi though, seemed to be positively vibrating ever since he had entered the cavern. He could feel it in his bones, that the cold Yin Chi was quite abundant here.

As Zhurong turned away from another forked pathway, one of which was closed off by a few fallen rocks, he scrunched up his nose in disgust as the smell of cave-dwelling bats and something else entered his nostrils.

'Ew…This smells worse than Mortuaries back then…Formalin smells better than this…'

Fond memories of his time as a doctor once again made him let out a sigh. It was a familiar smell…The smell of rotting corpse –

Zhurong's heart literally leapt out of his chest and into his throat when he realized exactly what that smell entailed. Eyes widened as sudden realization dawned upon him and he hurriedly looked around the icy cavern for dead bodies.

He found none though, to his silent relief. Only frozen over rocks coated with a thin sheen of permafrost, and icy stalactites hanging from the ceiling of the cave. Just to make sure, he waved around the fire in his hands to get a view of every corner.

Although that made him realize that he was in an antechamber of some kind. It was a wide portion of the cavern where he stood now, walls, nearly circular were coated with ice that shone in the light of the fire. Light reflected off the frozen ice, brightening up the whole chamber.

Zhurong nervously gulped a thick wad of saliva that was building up in his mouth. This wasn't some bossfight scene…Was it?

 As he continued looking around in the limelight of the orange flame, he had to scrunch up his nose once more, as the smell of rot thickened. Nervousness once more gripped his mind, as the silver haired boy looked around the chamber for the source.

Narrowing his eyes when a small crack in a nearby wall came before his eyes, he inspected the unfrozen rock of the wall. Something wasn't adding up here. The whole chamber was frozen solid except for the walls near this crack. Zhurong peered into the crack, which was only big enough to fit his head, and saw ice. Pure, deep blue ice, clearly different from the whitish snow that coated the rest of the chamber blocked the…door. That was legitimately the only explanation, as the crack seemed to be made from rocks not actually a part of the walls, rather independently fallen rocks almost guarding something.

Crystal blue eyes shone in realization.

'…This…this is a tomb. Someone is buried in there…And if there really are any Martial Arts, I'd bet it's in there…'

Zhurong took a deep breath in as he closely inspected the guarding rocks for some kind of seal or array. If this really was a tomb like he suspected, there must be some array over the rocks.

Before he could finish the inspection though, a sudden cold chilly gale nearly blew out the ball of fire in his fist, almost reducing it to mere embers. Zhurong's eyes widened in horror as his earlier prediction seemed to be becoming more accurate by the minute. This did seem like a bossfight scene…

The light illuminating the cavern went out, when more wintry breaths from the core of the antechamber blew totally blew out the fire, covering the silver haired boy and cave in pitch black darkness.

To be honest, Zhurong was scared. His breaths shortened, panic starting to settle in with the darkness and creeping cold all over his body. The fire was no longer present to provide either warmth or light –

A cold chill travelled down his spine as another gale carrying the scent of winter swept throughout the whole antechamber, and despite his situation, it was almost comforting. The cold didn't bother Zhurong as much as it did initially. Frosty Yin Chi in his body seemed to resonate with the…entire place really.

Soft blue Chi started to emerge out of Zhurong, beginning from his shoulders and travelling down to his waist, enlightening the frozen sheen of the antechamber in a dim blue light.

A comforting chill went down his spine, as the silver haired boy let out a soft sigh. He brought up his hand, and clearly, tiny gentle snowflakes were forming in his palm, as the blue Chi (signature of the FrostMoon Art) travelled up and up, from his palm and grew tall enough to reach the apparent door to the tomb.

The entire chamber glowed with an ethereal blue light, when a tremor went through the entire cavern. Zhurong almost lost his footing and was about to cover his head with his arms when another loud tremor went through the chamber as the two frozen rocks guarding the tomb started shaking.

The uncontrolled frosty Yin Chi that was automatically emerging from his hands seemed to tone down, and coalesce into a ball of glowing blue Chi, emanating soft wintry energy from it in the shape of flames.

Zhurong's eyes narrowed in curiosity. The tremors had quieted down, and seal matrices were starting to come alight, Sanskritic words seemingly carved into the walls, all across the antechamber, beginning from the far wall and extending upto the guarding rocks. He curiously held up the ball of Yin Chi in his hands.

'…How odd…It looks pretty much the same as Infinite Pure Yang's fire, but it's not…It's freezing cold.'

He thought to himself as he closely inspected the blue frosty flame in his right palm. He could feel it, the cold emanating from the physical manifestation of the FrostMoon Art. He could feel the cold from the blue flames emerging over it.

The guarding rocks gave another shake and Zhurong's blue eyes somehow shining a deeper shade of the same hue inspected them for a moment before he went back to the curious…cold ball of fire in his hands.

'…Mother's FrostMoon Art always manifests as cold wind, blue Chi or snowflakes. I've never seen cold blue flames though…'

It was indeed odd. Zhurong touched his right palm with his left, and could feel how cold it was, but it was almost comforting…Despite the cold, there was a comforting warmth to it.

Almost like the comforting cool embrace of his mother's arms when he was younger. He used to be so feverish due to the Phoenix Mark back then, and Meiying would always keep FrostMoon Art on standby whenever she held the little baby in her arms. The errant thought made Zhurong smile. Cold, but warm at the same time. The comforting cool of Meiying's embrace. 

It was beautiful.

The Warmth Of Winter.

Zhurong smiled, as with another booming shake, the rocks guarding the tomb slid aside, revealing an icy pathway in front of him, dimly lit with the blue Chi of FrostMoon.

/-/-/-/-/

The smell of rot got fainter, when Zhurong finally entered the real tomb after passing through the passageway.

His eyes widened at the sheer beauty of the tomb he was in. In the midst of it all, there was a coffin encased in deep unnatural blue ice, on top of what seemed like an altar of ice.

The altar, so to speak was truly an architectural marvel. Made of pure permafrost, it had spikes jutting out in all directions in a circular manner, and in the middle of it all, laid the coffin. Icy spikes, almost arranged in a floral manner were what gave the altar its beauty. Like petals of a rose, icy structures surrounded the altar, and over it, on the frozen-over ceiling, hung a magnificent Array of Sanskritic letters beyond Zhurong's comprehension, shaped like the Crescent Moon.

His mother had talked about the carved runes, in quotes, Zhurong mused, but he had honestly paid them less mind than the real Chi technique. That fact made him a bit ashamed now, that he couldn't read the letters on the crescent Moon.

He could make out a few words, "Tender and long night, the dream of the spring river; Cold end of the year, the weather of the winter snow…"

Crystal blue eyes sadly roamed over the rest of the words, which he couldn't read. Zhurong took a step away from the altar and let his eyes wander to the coffin in the midst of it all. He extended his hand, letting the dim blue light of the ball of Yin Chi in his hands enlighten the name plaque on it.

Most of the words were blurred, and lost to the throes of time. But Zhurong could only figure out a single clear word.

Lixue.

The young boy stored the name in his mind and made a promise to ask his mother about it, as clearly, by some sick twist of fate the tomb he had chanced upon was not actually the host to some super-powered Martial Arts, rather it looked to be the tomb of some practitioner of the FrostMoon Art itself.

'…Could it be…Mother's master…? The progenitor of FrostMoon Art…? Mother doesn't talk about her past much. She avoids the topic in fact…I'll ask her later…'

The boy took a cursory look at the rest of the chamber. And as the dim blue light softly reflected off the sheen of ice covering the whole tomb, Zhurong noticed that it was just as beautiful as the altar.

Carvings in the snow, of beautiful flowers dominated the rest of the walls of the tomb. Zhurong put his left hand on a particularly intricate carving of a snowflake like flower, and a rumble went throughout the cavern. He jerked back in shock, as the carving traced upon itself, dark blue lines travelling all over the wall as some kind of hidden seal Matrix activated.

Clearly, Zhurong being the next inheritor of the FrostMoon Art, the Rune Matrices would obviously respond to his proximal Chi.

When the snowflake had traced itself all over, the snow on that particular wall started to slough off, revealing a small wooden box with intricate carvings on it, inside a crack in the frosty wall. Zhurong took the box in his hands and gave it a shake as he tried to figure out what was within.

Dull thuds responded him, and the silver haired boy had spent enough time around books, in both lives to know what was in that box was obviously made of paper. Books, or scrolls clearly.

 '…I'll open it later. Time to go back. This was eventful, even if I didn't get some OP Martial Arts. This…This is a legacy…Mother would be glad to have this.'

He looked over the carving of a snowflake on the softwood of the box and ran a hand over it. It really was, beautiful.

Zhurong smiled, as he tucked in the box inside his kimono and with a respectful bow towards the altar, he left the tomb through the same frozen passageway he had come from, dim glow of Yin Chi enlightening his path. 

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A/N : I was a bit late this time around, apologies. But here it is. Finally, the story has 15k words. Hopefully I'll get a nice ranking. How do you like it so far? Man...I'm getting a bit late on the introduction to other Leads. Hopefully next chapter. Spoiler : First FL is from the Tang Clan. Try guessing the plotline.