The Charismatic Charlie Wade

Charlie was acutely aware that his pursuit was not of Morgana herself, but rather the enigmatic destination she sought.
After unveiling the portrait of Morvel Bazin, Morgana promptly silenced the Warriors Den. Her fear was palpable, yet her urgency
drove her alone to China, to the secluded Shiwan Mountain. It was a testament to her dire predicament.
Charlie suspected that Morgana’s quest likely revolved around the secrets left behind by Morvel Bazin, perhaps even the elusive
secret of immortality, hinted at by Gideon in the past. With this conviction, he resolved to follow her into the heart of the Shiwan
Mountains, regardless of the potential reward, as it wouldn’t add to his risk and held the promise of answers.
Within the depths of the Shiwan Mountains, Morgana resembled a martial arts heroine, gracefully gliding through the treetops,
effortlessly traversing the rugged terrain. The ordinary world below felt like a level playing field to her, even as she ventured
deeper into the wilderness.
As she distanced herself from the highway and ventured further into the mountains, she realized that little had changed in these
mountains over the past three centuries. The verdant hills remained untouched and desolate.
With the memories of yesteryear guiding her, Morgana continued her journey through the mountains, progressing seamlessly
even as the night’s darkness shrouded her surroundings. Moonlight and starlight struggled to penetrate the thick canopy, and
rising humidity veiled the terrain in an eerie mist.
Navigating this inhospitable landscape was challenging for mere mortals, but Morgana seemed immune to its perils. She moved
resolutely through the darkness and fog, while creatures of all kinds scurried away in her presence, yearning to avoid her.
After nearly half an hour in the mist, Morgana reached the depths of a low valley. Here, the fog grew denser, and the air hung
heavy with moisture, saturating it to the point of producing water droplets. The valley’s low elevation trapped moisture and
carbon dioxide, rendering the oxygen content dangerously low.
What made it even more treacherous was the presence of toxic gases, akin to methane, released by rotting trees and swamps
over countless years. These compounds had combined to create a toxic miasma lethal to all living creatures.
Despite the inherent dangers of this place, Morgana remained undaunted, even growing more excited. She ventured deeper into
the toxic fog, holding her breath as nausea washed over her.
At the valley’s nadir, enveloped in inky darkness, Morgana’s senses expanded, rendering the surroundings vividly clear. In this
abyss, her gaze fell upon a multitude of massive stone pillars, each measuring five to six meters in height and two to three
meters in width.

Though they appeared natural and untouched, the sheer number of stone pillars and their haphazard arrangement suggested
deliberate intent. Someone had collected and placed them here with purpose.
Morgana, far from surprised, caressed the stones with a reverent touch.
In a hushed tone, she whispered, “Master, senior, Morgana has returned.”
She ventured deeper into the stone forest, her steps guided by the ancient Nine Palaces and Bagua array set up by her master,
Morvel Bazin. This enigmatic formation concealed its exit from those unfamiliar with its secrets.
Outsiders could only break the formation by destroying all the stone pillars, an act that would alert Morvel Bazin before they
succeeded. If their assailant proved more formidable, he could use the formation’s size and the pillars’ density to gain the upper
hand and escape.
Morvel Bazin had hidden within this formation for centuries, and no one had ever breached its defenses, except for Morgana and
her senior, Lucius. Now, returning to this place, Morgana followed a familiar route, deftly navigating the labyrinthine stone forest.
After several rounds of travel, she abruptly shifted her course, revealing the exit of the Bagua Array, an artificial stone archway.
The stone gate bore engraved couplets in wild cursive calligraphy.
The first couplet spoke of eight centuries spent in seclusion, while the second alluded to nearly a millennium among the stars
and the moon.
These ordinary verses concealed an extraordinary question within their horizontal lines, “Can I live forever?”
Morgana gazed upon these words with familiarity.
She mused, “Master, what is immortality? Five hundred years or a thousand? You lived a millennium, changing your name, but
could three centuries of cultivation not defy death? Is there a path in this world to transcend the bounds of mortality?”
A sardonic smile played on her lips as she shook her head. “I’m overthinking it. How could you have known the answer? If you
had, you wouldn’t have perished three centuries ago.”
With that, Morgana pushed the stone door ajar, revealing a chamber of roughly forty square meters. She recognized this place
well, where she and Lucius had once meditated, where dried bloodstains bore witness to the moment she had plunged her
sword into his heart.

Morgana’s thoughts drifted as she touched the centuries-old bloodstains.
She whispered, “Lucius, the memory of thrusting that sword into your heart still haunts me. If you had acquiesced then, could we
have been spared these three centuries of separation? With our combined might, perhaps we could have expelled rebels long
ago, claiming dominion over this world together. It’s my fault alone, you could not foresee the future, nor the pleasures it might
bring.”
With a sigh, she murmured, “Everything before me appears unchanged from three centuries past, except for your dried blood,
proof that none has ventured here in all that time.”
Her brow furrowed as she pondered, “So the person who unveiled the portrait of Master has never been here. The Jagoan
couple hasn’t been here either. So who is this person? Where did Bruce and his wife unearth the secret of immortality?”