The morning sun stretched lazily over the rugged peaks of the Jade Dragon Mountains, bathing the ancient temple in a golden haze. Mist drifted like whispers through the pines, scented faintly with incense and fresh mountain soil. In the open courtyard, four young disciples moved in silent rhythm, their bodies flowing with elegance and purpose beneath the watchful gaze of their master.
Li Wei's movements were swift yet precise, his fists slicing through the air as he practiced the Wind Spirit Fist. His breath synced with the rustling breeze, every strike a quiet promise of discipline. Beside him, Mei Ling raised her hands gently, summoning translucent spirits of wind that danced around her like living silk. Nearby, Zhao Jian grounded himself firmly, each punch radiating with earth-bound Qi that cracked the courtyard tiles. Bao Long's sword, wreathed in flame, cut dazzling arcs through the mist, the heat trailing behind like dragon fire.
Master Shen observed them quietly. His wrinkled face held the calm of still waters, but his eyes — sharp as eagle's — missed nothing. Decades of guarding ancient secrets had etched wisdom deep into his very bones.
Then, the mountain trembled.
Subtle at first — a vibration beneath their feet, like the heartbeat of something ancient waking from slumber. The air shifted. The mist thickened. Li Wei halted mid-strike, brow furrowing.
"Did you feel that?" he whispered.
Master Shen's gaze darkened as he turned toward the mountain's edge. "A disturbance in the Qi… something unnatural."
Before they could question further, a sharp wind swept through the courtyard, carrying a chill that did not belong to this world. From the forest's edge, shadows slithered and took form — cloaked figures, their bodies wrapped in dark aura, eyes glowing with malice.
"The Shadow Serpent's followers," Master Shen murmured grimly.
The disciples barely had time to react before the dark warriors surged forward. Mei Ling's wind spirits burst into motion, slicing through the air with precision. Zhao Jian stomped, sending jagged earth spears into the charging enemy. Bao Long became a blur of steel and fire, his sword roaring with flame as he cut down shadow after shadow.
Li Wei's Qi stirred deep within. Inhaling sharply, he pushed his spirit into alignment, slipping partially into the Spirit Realm. His body shimmered between planes, fists moving like echoes through ghostly dimensions. Some enemies missed him entirely; others were struck by force they could not predict.
But then… the roar came.
A bone-deep, chilling sound that silenced the storm.
From the smoke emerged the Shadow Serpent — cloaked in rippling black Qi, his presence warping the air like a fever dream. His hood shadowed a twisted face, but his eyes burned like molten coal.
He lifted a hand. Wards placed by Master Shen shuddered, then shattered with a crack like thunder.
And chaos reigned.
More minions poured in — faster, stronger. At the heart of the temple, a single figure broke from the pack and darted toward the sacred altar.
Yan Xiu — the serpent's right hand.
His fingers, blackened by corrupted Qi, closed around the Dragon Heart Pearl. The orb glowed with blue-green brilliance for a heartbeat before flashing violently. A shockwave blasted outward, sending everyone flying.
Master Shen rose to his feet, voice hoarse but resolute. "Retreat! Protect the knowledge! The Pearl must not fall!"
Li Wei turned toward the altar, locking eyes with the Shadow Serpent in that instant — a silent vow exchanged between warrior and villain. Then, he and the others fled into the mist, leaving behind only fire, ruin, and memory.
---
Dawn broke again, but it brought no peace.
The temple lay in ruins. Smoke drifted in pale curls over scorched stones. The courtyard, once a place of balance and serenity, bore the scars of a dark invasion.
In the forest's edge, survivors gathered. Li Wei. Mei Ling. Zhao Jian. Bao Long. Their faces were tired, streaked with sweat and ash. No words passed — only silence and the soft cries of spirits unsettled by the destruction.
Master Shen joined them, holding the empty cloth where the Pearl once rested. "It's gone," he said softly.
Mei Ling stepped forward, defiant. "Then we take it back."
Zhao Jian wiped blood from his brow. "If the Shadow Serpent succeeds, both realms will fall."
Li Wei looked up, heart pounding. "What must we do, Master?"
Shen met his eyes, the glint of hope not yet lost. "Li Wei, you are chosen. You must journey beyond these mountains. Into the Spirit Realm. To face the darkness and restore what has been broken."
Fear surged in Li Wei's chest — but with it came a rising fire. "I'll go. I won't fail."
Master Shen nodded once. "Then prepare. The road ahead will test everything you are. But know this — the fate of the worlds rests in your hands."
As the first true rays of sunlight pierced the mist, Li Wei felt the weight of destiny settle on his shoulders. The quest had begun.
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