A child's scream shattered everything.
A boy no older than ten came running into the hall, tears streaming, his face pale with terror.
"T-they're… they're killing everyone…!"
"Father… they killed him! They killed mother too..."
The boy ran straight to Mo Yan, grabbing his sleeve, sobbing uncontrollably.
Mo turned.
His world cracked again.
He crouched, placing his hands on the boy's trembling shoulders.
"What happened? Who did this?"
"T-they had red robes… golden emblems… they said… they said this land belongs to Tiyang Sect now…"
Mo's eyes darkened like thunderclouds.
He stood up slowly, turned..and looked straight at Lin Chaoyuan.
Still standing. Still smiling.
"So you've joined hands with them," Mo said, his voice barely human now.
"You've betrayed the kingdom… the people… just to claim a broken throne."
Lin Chaoyuan stepped forward, mocking applause in his hands.
"Tiyang Sect has already taken the outer territories.
The palaces have fallen.
Your precious clans… are finished."
"Oh, and Mo Yan.."
"Now it's your turn."
The Flame That Never Breaks
Smoke rose in the distance. The kingdom had fallen into chaos. Fires burned through the once peaceful lands.
In the shadows of the ancient woods, the last hope of the realm fled barefoot...bleeding, breathless, and barely alive.
Master Fung Shu Ri, Master Chui Yong, the injured Master Kin Lishuan, and Mo Yan...along with the young boy...ran for their lives, pursued by the soldiers of the traitor Lin Chaoyuan and the Tiyang Sect.
"Don't stop!" Fung Shu Ri shouted. "Into the trees!"
Their robes torn, feet sliced by stone and root, they ran until the forest swallowed them. Then..finally..a crumbling old temple ruin appeared, half-covered in ivy and moss.
They rushed inside, barely daring to breathe.
Outside, the soldiers passed by, unaware.
In the dim stillness, Mo Yan leaned against the broken altar, his chest heaving. Blood oozed from the wound on his leg.
"I'm going," he said, voice low but firm.
The elders turned to him in shock.
"Going… where?" Chui Yong asked.