The moon hung high in the sky, its pale glow casting eerie shadows over the Jiang Clan estate. The whispers of the night had not faded. If anything, they had grown stronger, more insidious, slithering into the minds of the guards and servants like a plague.
Jiang Tian sat rigidly in his chamber, his hands clenched into fists. Despite his outward bravado, he could not deny the growing unease in his heart. The air felt heavy, charged with an unseen presence. His instincts screamed at him—something was coming.
Outside, his most trusted guards patrolled in doubled numbers. Cultivators stood at every entrance, their senses heightened. The Jiang Clan was prepared for war.
But their enemy was not one who fought conventionally.
Shao Xian moved like a phantom through the outer courtyard. His presence was a whisper, his movements unseen. The Jiang Clan had built their defenses well, but they were built to stop assassins, bandits, and rival clans—not him.
Not a monster who had once ruled over realms.
He stood at the edge of the inner sanctum, his gaze cold and calculating. Killing Jiang Tian immediately would be too simple, too merciful.
No. Jiang Tian would suffer first.
Shao Xian lifted his hand, channeling a sliver of his vast energy into the air. A ripple spread across the estate, barely perceptible yet potent. The effects were immediate.
The shadows shifted.
The flames of the torches flickered unnaturally. A cold wind swept through the corridors, carrying with it a sound that had not been heard in centuries—a low, echoing murmur, like the distant voices of the damned.
The guards tensed, their hands tightening around their weapons.
Then, one of them froze.
A cold breath brushed against the back of his neck.
His body stiffened. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Slowly, he turned—
Nothing.
Just the empty courtyard.
Yet, the feeling did not fade. It only grew stronger.
Another guard, stationed on the eastern wall, saw something move in the corner of his vision. A flicker of darkness that should not have been there. He blinked, straining his eyes.
A mistake.
The darkness lunged at him. A thin, razor-sharp force sliced across his throat before he could even scream. Blood sprayed onto the stone wall. His body crumpled soundlessly to the ground.
No alarm was raised.
No one noticed.
Shao Xian continued his silent descent into the heart of the Jiang estate. He was not here for battle—he was here for slaughter.
Lin Feng, hidden in the shadows near the outer courtyard, observed with widened eyes. His master had instructed him to stay behind, to watch and learn.
And what he saw shook him to his core.
This was not brute force. This was not reckless carnage.
This was fear woven into reality.
Guards disappeared one by one, their corpses left in places where they would be found just late enough to spread panic. Doors creaked open without a source. Shadows moved without reason.
Then, the whispering began again.
The surviving guards huddled together, their fear palpable. "It's a ghost," one of them gasped, his knuckles white around his sword. "This isn't human."
"Shut up!" another snapped, but his voice wavered. "It's just a trick. Someone is toying with us."
Then—
"Jiang Tian."
A voice, disembodied and chilling, drifted through the night.
The men paled.
The wind howled, carrying the voice further. "Jiang Tian. You cannot escape me."
One guard, already at his limit, turned and ran.
He did not make it three steps before an unseen force crushed his chest. His ribs shattered. Blood sprayed from his mouth. He collapsed in a heap.
The others screamed.
The Jiang estate was no longer a fortress.
It was a nightmare.
---
Inside his chamber, Jiang Tian's breathing quickened. He had heard the voice. It echoed within his very bones.
The elders of the Jiang Clan had gathered hastily, their faces drawn with fear. "Lord Jiang," one of them stammered, "we must leave. Now."
Jiang Tian slammed his fist onto the table. "Cowards! We do not flee from shadows!"
But even as he said it, sweat dripped down his temple.
He knew who it was.
He had known from the moment the whispers started.
Shao Xian.
The name he had buried. The past he had erased. The man he had betrayed.
He was back.
Jiang Tian forced himself to remain composed. "Summon the grand protector. Have the array masters reinforce the barriers. Whoever dares enter my domain will be torn apart."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances, but obeyed.
Jiang Tian exhaled sharply. No one could rise from the dead.
Shao Xian was gone.
He repeated the thought in his mind, willing himself to believe it.
Then—
The candles in the room flickered.
And one by one, they went out.
A gust of frigid air swept through the chamber, and a whisper—low, taunting—caressed Jiang Tian's ear.
"I have returned."
Jiang Tian's breath caught.
The shadows at the edge of the room deepened.
And then, for the first time in years—
Jiang Tian felt true terror.
---
Shao Xian did not enter the chamber. Not yet.
This was merely the beginning.
The night belonged to him, and by dawn, Jiang Tian would know—
There was nowhere left to hide.