The battlefield was not yet silent.
Ji Xuan lay sprawled on the ground, his robes soaked in blood, his body trembling. His once-arrogant gaze was now filled with terror as he stared at the crimson-haired man before him.
Yao Yan.
The sword spirit who shouldn't exist.
The monster who had toyed with him like a child breaking a fragile toy.
Ji Xuan coughed, his breath uneven. His meridians were shattered, his dantian fractured beyond repair. He was crippled.
But Yao Yan wasn't done.
Crack!
Ji Xuan's body spasmed as Yao Yan's foot came down on his wrist, crushing it under sheer force.
He let out a hoarse scream.
"Did that hurt?" Yao Yan's voice was calm, eerily soft. "That's funny, because I seem to recall you hurting someone else not too long ago."
He twisted his foot slightly, and another sickening crunch echoed in the air.
Ji Xuan howled.
Qing'er watched from the side, her heart pounding. She should stop him. She knew she should.
But…
Her fingers trembled as she clenched her sword.
"He deserves it."
Ji Xuan had attacked her. He had nearly taken her life. He had hurt innocent people for his own gain.
If not for Yao Yan, she would be dead.
A part of her wanted to look away.
But another part—a darker part—wanted to see him suffer.
Yao Yan crouched beside Ji Xuan, grabbing a fistful of his bloodied robes. He leaned in close, his golden eyes glowing with cold amusement.
"How does it feel, Ji Xuan?" he murmured. "To be powerless? To know that no one will save you?"
Ji Xuan gasped, his lips trembling. "P-please…"
Yao Yan's gaze darkened.
"Please?" he echoed. "Did Qing'er beg when you tried to kill her?"
Ji Xuan's breath hitched.
Yao Yan raised his hand, fingers curling into a claw. A wave of crimson energy surged around him.
"If she wants you dead," he whispered, "I will erase your name from this world."
He turned to Qing'er, his expression unreadable.
"Say the word."
Qing'er's breath hitched.
This was it.
The moment she had to decide.
Ji Xuan was the heir of the Ji Clan. If she killed him, the clan would never stop hunting her. But if she let him go, he would return. Stronger.
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
Yao Yan watched her carefully, his grip tightening on Ji Xuan's robe. "You hesitate," he said softly.
"I…" Qing'er's fingers dug into her palms. "I don't know."
Yao Yan's gaze softened, just slightly.
He released Ji Xuan, standing up.
"Then let me make it easier for you."
He turned back to Ji Xuan and placed his hand over his forehead.
A thin, red flame ignited at Yao Yan's fingertips.
Ji Xuan screamed.
His soul burned—but he did not die.
Qing'er watched in shock as Yao Yan branded him, carving a mark onto his forehead.
When the light faded, Ji Xuan collapsed, panting.
"What did you do?" Qing'er whispered.
Yao Yan dusted off his robes. "He won't be able to cultivate ever again," he said simply.
Qing'er's eyes widened.
A fate worse than death.
Yao Yan turned to her, his voice gentle. "I told you before, Qing'er… if I'm alive, no one will hurt you."
Ji Xuan whimpered on the ground, his body twitching.
Yao Yan tilted his head. "If you ever come near her again…"
His golden eyes flashed.
"I'll make sure you wish I had killed you today."
Ji Xuan let out a strangled sob, his once-proud form reduced to nothing more than a broken shell of a man.
Yao Yan turned away. "Come, Qing'er. We're done here."
Qing'er hesitated before stepping forward, her gaze lingering on Ji Xuan's trembling body.
Then, without another word, she followed Yao Yan into the night.
The battle was over.
But the war had only just begun.