The wind carried the scent of blood.
It was faint beneath the biting chill of the darkening sky, but I noticed it the moment we neared the gathering of disciples. The distant lanterns cast flickering shadows across the snow-covered ground, illuminating a scene that sent a chill deeper than the cold ever could.
Three bodies, wearing ragged robes and claws outstretched with the intent of massacre visible even after death.
Demonic cultists.
Their corpses lay half-buried in the frost, heads severed cleanly from their shoulders.
I stepped forward, my boots crunching against the frozen ground. The disciples who had discovered them stood in tense silence, their weapons unsheathed, eyes darting toward the treeline. I knelt by one of the bodies, fingers brushing against the exposed flesh.
The blood pooling beneath them hadn’t even fully dried.
“They were killed recently,” I murmured. “Within the past day, at most.”
Jian Feng, who stood beside me with a grim expression, nodded. “We just found them now, but whoever did this was fast and precise. No signs of a prolonged fight. No struggle.”
Nothing.
The surrounding terrain was pristine, untouched. These cultists had been cut down before they could even react.
I clenched my jaw, the implications sinking in.
Demonic cultists were not easy to kill. Even when they were outmatched, they fought to their last breath, fueled by whatever twisted madness drove them. But this was something else. They hadn’t even been able to attack, from the looks of it.
Tianyi landed beside me, her wings folding as her antennae twitched. “I didn’t hear anything.”
My eyes flicked to her. That meant even with her enhanced senses, nothing had alerted her. No distant clash. No cries of pain. No surge of hostile qi.
She would have noticed. The disciples patrolling would have noticed.
But they hadn’t.
“There’s something out there,” I said. “Someone who killed three cultists before they even had the chance to fight back.”
The thought made my blood run cold.
The demonic cultists were fanatics, but they weren’t weak. If something could take them down this easily, without so much as making a sound, then what did it mean for us?
Jian Feng adjusted his grip on his sword. “We should increase patrols. There's no telling if whoever did this is friend or foe.”
“Agreed.” I met his gaze. “Keep everyone sharp. If this is an ally, I’d like to know who. If it’s an enemy…”
Jian Feng nodded grimly. “Then we need to be ready.”
We stood there for a moment longer. Then, without another word, I turned back toward the village. The patrols would remain on high alert, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down either.
Neither were Tianyi and Windy.
As we reached my shop, Tianyi hesitated at the entrance. She didn’t go inside. Instead, she perched herself atop the rooftop, wings shifting slightly as she scanned the surroundings. Windy slithered into the garden, curling himself near the entrance, his body coiled in quiet vigilance.
They weren't planning to sleep tonight.
Neither was I.
Hours passed.
The only sounds in my shop were the faint scratch of my pen against parchment and the occasional drip of liquid into a waiting vial.
The recipe for the prototype was ready.
The Essence-Purifying Blood Detoxification Elixir. A name so absurdly long I grimaced every time I thought it. It was taking up valuable space in my head.
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I needed something better. Something easier to say.
I tapped my pen against my notebook, running through ideas. Blood-Purging Elixir? Too aggressive. Essence Cleansing Tonic? Too mild. Vital Reclamation Elixir? That sounded like something an over-ambitious sect would sell at a marked-up price.
"Hmm..."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Maybe something simple would suffice.
Just as I reached for my ingredients to begin creating the prototype, I caught movement from the corner of my eye.
Tianyi and Windy.
They darted from their posts outside, their figures vanishing into the dark outskirts of the village without hesitation.
My stomach clenched. I opened the window and shouted after them.
"HEY! Where are you guys going?!"
No response. They continued to run. I dropped what I was doing and bolted after them.
The night was cold, the air sharp against my skin as I sprinted after their retreating figures. They were moving fast. Windy glided through the snow, while Tianyi floated with every step.
Something had set them off.
We were nearing the outskirts when I spotted them.
Two hooded figures.
One about the size of an average adult. The other was large, bigger than Wang Jun, broad-shouldered and standing like a monolith against the dark.
They weren’t moving toward the village. They were moving carefully, deliberately—until Tianyi struck.
The smaller figure reacted first, brandishing a sword and stepping forward to intercept her. Their blade arced in a clean, practiced motion, aimed to deflect her strike rather than kill.
Tianyi, faster than the wind itself, shifted in midair, avoiding the edge by a hair's breadth before lashing out with a sharp, glowing wing.
The larger figure raised a fist to counter—only to reel back as Windy lunged at them, fangs bared.
I pushed myself harder, forcing my legs to move faster. The moment I arrived, I took in the stalemate.
Tianyi hovered midair, her wings shimmering faintly, poised to strike again.
Windy had coiled himself around the larger figure’s wrist, his tail tightening just enough to restrict movement but not break bone. The hooded figure held perfectly still, their stance rigid.
I narrowed my eyes. They weren’t struggling.
These weren’t demonic cultivators. There was no chance they'd sit idly. They would continue to fight until their last breath.
Even beneath the hoods, I could see the way they carried themselves. Like martial artists. Their footing was steady, their breathing controlled.
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My voice came out sharp as I closed in on them. “If it’s grain or food you want, we can give it to you.”
The figure carrying a blade stiffened slightly.
I took a slow step forward, my tone turning colder. “But don’t lose your life over it.”
I wasn’t bluffing.
A quiet resolve settled over me. I had spent too long dealing with the aftermath of battle, too long watching others bleed, to hesitate now. If they so much as twitched wrong, I knew Tianyi and Windy would end this before they had the chance to react.
From behind me, I could already hear the distant steps of the second-class disciples.
Reinforcements were coming.
The swordsman hesitated for a fraction of a second—then, to my surprise, he dropped his sword.
His hands rose slowly in surrender.
Windy loosened his grip slightly, still coiled but no longer pressing in. She remained in place, her antennae twitching as if gauging the situation.
Then, the smaller figure reached for their hood.
Pulled it back.
And spoke my name.
"It has been a long time, Kai Liu."
My breath hitched, a strange pressure settling in my chest. No. It couldn't be. The odds were too absurd. A trick of the dark. My mind grasping at familiarity where there was none.
The hood fell back.
Moonlight sliced through the shadows, casting stark lines over sharp features, ones I almost didn’t recognize at first. The angles were familiar, but thinner, harsher. A face hardened by time, exhaustion weighing heavy beneath those dark eyes.
A face I had seen before.
A face I had never expected to see again.
The realization struck like a hammer to the chest.
"Xu Ziqing..?"
The scent of roasted tea leaves filled the air.
Lan-Yin set down the ceramic cups with a bit more force than necessary, her expression less than pleased. “Why is it always here?” she muttered, crossing her arms as she stood at the edge of our gathered group. “Of all the places, why does every important conversation happen in the Soaring Swallow?”
I offered her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Lan-Yin. The drinks here can't be beat.”
She rolled her eyes, huffing, before finally relenting and walking away, though I caught the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of her lips.
I returned my attention to Xu Ziqing and the other man beside him—Ping Hai.
Tense silence lingered between us.
Xu Ziqing was the same as I remembered—his posture disciplined, his movements precise, that same easy confidence in the way he lifted his tea cup to his lips. But something in his eyes had changed.
The sharp light they once held had dulled, replaced by something heavier, something I had seen too many times before. The look of a man who had lost more than he cared to admit.
And Ping Hai…
The last time I had seen him, he had been a towering figure already, a broad-shouldered third-class disciple built like an iron statue. But now? Now, he looked like he could take down a charging ox with his bare hands.
A deep, jagged scar now marred his face, cutting along his left eye. His arms were thicker than before, corded with muscle, his hands calloused and scarred. His very presence felt weighty, his sheer size making him one of the largest people in the room.
And yet, despite his increased size, despite how he had grown into a figure capable of shattering stone with his fists, he looked tired.
That same exhaustion sat on his features, the same quiet, haunted weight in his posture that I had noticed in Xu Ziqing.
I didn’t have to ask why.
The Silent Moon Sect was gone.
I remembered the news I had received weeks ago. The one message that left Crescent Bay City. A report of how an entire sect had been erased overnight.
Destroyed by demonic cultivators.
Xu Ziqing set his cup down, his gaze flickering to the gathered figures in the room.
Jian Feng sat to my right, his grip still resting lightly on his sword, his expression unreadable. Elder Ming was watching carefully, quiet as always.
Tianyi perched near the rafters, antennae twitching, eyes fixed on the two men like a hawk. Windy, coiled lazily near my seat, didn’t seem aggressive, but I knew better—if either of them made a wrong move, he wouldn’t hesitate to act.
The second-class disciples stood further back, their presence a silent warning.
Finally, I broke the silence.
“What are you doing here?”
Xu Ziqing took another sip of tea.
“It’s good,” he said simply, nodding in appreciation.
I exhaled, waiting.
The second-class disciple's gaze flickered across the table, lingering on me for a moment before shifting to Tianyi. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes.
“I see you’ve changed,” he remarked.
I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“The last time we met, you were strong for your level—but now, even without testing you, I can tell. Your foundation has solidified. The way you carry yourself is different. Sharper.”
He tapped a finger against his cup, then glanced up at Tianyi, who sat perched in the rafters, watching with silent vigilance.
“But more than you, I find her transformation more interesting. Just a butterfly. And now…” His eyes traced over her wings, the slight exoskeletal sheen of her skin, the way she moved with a grace both foreign and familiar. “You’ve transcended your form.”
He turned back to me, that sharp glint returning to his eyes.
“You followed my advice.”
I tensed slightly. “What advice?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“To get stronger. Lest the ones precious to you get taken.”
I didn’t respond immediately. There was nothing to say.
Because he was right.
I had fought. I had trained. I had pushed myself to the edge and beyond, all so I would never have to see my loved ones taken away.
Xu Ziqing studied me for a moment longer before exhaling softly, as if the conversation was already done in his mind.
Then, finally, he set his cup down and leaned forward slightly.
“We were on our way to Pingyao. Ping Hai's home village.”
I couldn't exactly recall, but I knew the name. Was it close by?
Xu Ziqing continued.
“The Silent Moon Sect has withdrawn its protection from the outlying regions. Every disciple who was outside of the sect was given a single order from Sect Leader Jun.”
His gaze met mine, something bitter hidden beneath his calm tone.
“To consolidate. To abandon everything and regroup.”
They had abandoned the people under their protection.
“Why? Because you guys were weakened by the invasion? By the demonic cultists?” I asked, voice steady despite the simmering frustration building beneath my skin.
“That,” he said, “is what I’m about to explain.”
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