The echo of Li Shen's footsteps rang through the vast corridor of the Immortal Temple. Though the trial of shadow had passed, the lingering sensation of darkness still clung to his skin like smoke. His mind was heavy but clearer than ever before. He had embraced a part of himself that he once feared—and now, the Lotus within him pulsed in harmony with his soul.
He descended deeper into the temple, guided only by the faint glow of floating lanterns that hung suspended in the air. They gave no warmth, only cold light, illuminating ancient murals etched into the walls. The carvings told stories of cultivators who had ascended beyond mortality, whose bodies had turned to starlight, whose voices had become the wind. But many of the figures in the murals were cracked, faded, as if time itself had forgotten them.
Suddenly, the corridor widened, opening into a grand chamber unlike any he had seen before.
It was a hall of mirrors.
Hundreds of tall, perfectly polished mirrors lined the walls, floor, and ceiling. They reflected not only his physical form, but fragments of his memories, visions of the past, of battles fought, of friends lost and moments of hesitation. It was disorienting, walking into a space where reality and memory overlapped like ripples in a pond.
As he stepped into the chamber, the Lotus inside him stirred. Its rhythm shifted, slower now, cautious. Something was different here.
Then, without warning, the temperature dropped.
The mirrors pulsed with a faint, bluish glow. From their depths, figures began to emerge—twisted, distorted versions of Li Shen himself. Each one bore his face, his clothes, even his sword. But their eyes… their eyes were empty. Hollow.
One of the reflections stepped forward.
"You think you understand the Lotus?" it asked, its voice flat, yet heavy with scorn. "You've tasted only a drop of its truth."
Li Shen stood still, sword at his side. "I've faced my fear. I've embraced the darkness within me."
Another reflection stepped forward, this one older, wearier. "You call that strength? You couldn't save your master. You left your village to burn. You let them die so you could chase glory."
Li Shen's breath caught. The images in the mirrors shifted—flashes of Xiao Ming's final lesson, his village in flames, the lifeless gaze of his childhood friend lying in the rubble. Shame flickered in his chest like a dying flame.
A third version of himself stepped out, calm but cold. "You don't seek truth. You seek validation. You want the world to recognize your pain and call it power."
The accusations were sharp, cutting deeper than any blade.
For the first time, Li Shen faltered.
The mirrors around him darkened, swirling with energy, and the three doppelgängers raised their swords, identical to his own. One by one, they circled him like wolves, blades gleaming with ill intent.
"This is your next trial," came a voice—not from the mirrors, but from within him. The Lotus.
"To master me, you must confront not only fear, but your truth. Fight not your enemies, but the parts of yourself you've buried."
Li Shen clenched his jaw.
He was tired of running. Tired of doubting.
He raised his sword and dropped into a fighting stance.
"If this is the cost of truth," he said quietly, "then I'll pay it in blood
Parfait ! Voici la deuxième moitié du Chapitre 7 de "Chronicles of the Eternal Lotus" (~1000 mots), suite directe de la première partie :
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Chapter 7: The Temple of Mirrors (Part 2)
The first reflection attacked without warning.
Its movement was a perfect mimic of Li Shen's—sharp, precise, unrelenting. Their blades clashed, sparks erupting as metal met metal. Li Shen grunted under the force of the strike. This version of himself was fast—faster than any opponent he had faced—but he knew its strength. It was his strength.
He pivoted, parried the next blow, and swept low to break its stance, but the doppelgänger leapt into the air and spun, landing behind him. Its blade traced a shallow line across his shoulder. Pain blossomed, sharp and hot.
Before he could recover, the second version came forward—this one slower, more deliberate, but with every strike came a weight that felt like guilt. With every clash of their swords, Li Shen saw the faces of those he had failed: his childhood friend, his mentor, the villagers he couldn't save. The second doppelgänger didn't just fight physically—it fought with memory.
"You left them all behind," it hissed. "You told yourself it was destiny. But it was fear."
Li Shen gritted his teeth. "I couldn't save them. I wasn't strong enough."
The doppelgänger smiled, cold and cruel. "But now you think strength will redeem you?"
The third version circled around, untouched. Its stance was almost relaxed. "What are you really fighting for, Li Shen?" it asked calmly. "The truth? Or the chance to be seen as more than a broken boy chasing power?"
"I fight for balance," Li Shen snarled, blade flashing as he struck toward the second version, who blocked and shoved him back. "I fight to control the Lotus—not be consumed by it."
"Then prove it," the calm doppelgänger said, vanishing into the shadows.
Only two remained now.
Li Shen knew what he had to do.
He closed his eyes—not to retreat, but to look inward. He no longer swung blindly at his pain. He had to understand it. The reflections were not enemies. They were fragments. Echoes.
The second doppelgänger struck again, but this time, Li Shen didn't block. He stepped into the attack.
The blade cut his side, but he didn't falter. He grabbed the copy by the wrist and drove his sword not into its heart—but into the mirror behind it.
The glass shattered.
In that moment, the second doppelgänger blinked, as though seeing something for the first time.
"I'm sorry," Li Shen whispered—not to the reflection, but to himself. To the version of him that carried guilt for so long.
The second figure faded into mist.
Now only the first remained—the one full of rage and fear. It charged again, silent and deadly. This time, Li Shen met it blow for blow, not with anger, but with clarity.
"You are not my enemy," Li Shen said through gritted teeth, parrying a strike to his ribs. "You are my instinct. My survival. My fear of weakness."
The reflection hesitated. Its blade trembled.
"You kept me alive," Li Shen continued, lowering his weapon. "But I no longer need to be afraid."
The doppelgänger screamed, its body writhing in a burst of energy, then exploded into shards of dark light that scattered into the air.
Silence fell.
The mirrors around the chamber dimmed. The images within faded—no more guilt, no more doubt. Only his reflection remained. Whole. Real.
The Lotus within him stirred again, its energy calmer now. Balanced.
The trial was over.
Suddenly, the chamber shifted. The mirrors dissolved into smoke, revealing a narrow staircase winding upward. At the top, a faint glow beckoned—silver and blue, like moonlight touching still water.
He climbed slowly, his limbs sore but steady. At the summit, he found himself on a stone platform beneath the open sky. Stars stretched above him like scattered diamonds. In the center of the platform sat an ancient cultivator, cross-legged, eyes closed, floating inches above the ground.
Their robe shimmered like starlight, and their voice echoed without their lips moving.
"You have passed the Trial of the Self."
Li Shen bowed low. "What comes next?"
The cultivator's eyes opened—silver and ancient. "Now, you begin the path of Lotus Fusion."
Li Shen's breath caught.
"You do not wield the Lotus," the elder said. "You become
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