They did not leave the village immediately.
Not because Li Tian wanted to stay—but because the village could not yet let go of them.
Morning arrived slowly, as if even dawn was unsure it was welcome. People moved through the streets in low voices, avoiding the places where shadows had lingered the night before.
Doors remained half-closed. Children were kept indoors. No one spoke of what they had seen, but everyone felt it.
Li Tian stood near the edge of the settlement, watching the hills.
Mei Lin joined him, arms folded. "They won't forget this."
"No," he said. "They'll tell others. Some will exaggerate. Some will lie. But the important ones will listen."
"And come looking," she finished.
"Yes."
They were quiet for a while.
Then Mei Lin said, "You didn't kill all of them last night."
Li Tian didn't turn. "No."
"You could have," she pressed. "That blade… it scared them."
"They weren't here to die," he replied. "They were here to learn."
"And you let them."
Li Tian finally looked at her. "I didn't have a choice."
She searched his face, then nodded once. "Then we should move before the next lesson arrives."
They left before noon.
No one tried to stop them.
As they walked away, Li Tian felt eyes on his back—not hostile, not pleading, just heavy with expectation. He had become a marker. Wherever he passed, things changed.
The road ahead climbed into higher ground. The air thinned, carrying a faint chill even under the sun. With every step, the pressure inside Li Tian's chest grew—not pain, but density, like memories pressing against a door that refused to open fully.
By late afternoon, they reached a narrow pass between two ridges.
Li Tian slowed.
Mei Lin noticed immediately. "What is it?"
"This place," he said. "It's close."
"To what?"
He exhaled. "To me."
The System stirred faintly.
Not an alert.
A hesitation.
That worried him more than any warning.
They moved deeper into the pass. The stone walls rose higher, closing out the sky. Sound dulled again. Even their footsteps felt muted, like echoes swallowed before forming.
Mei Lin touched the hilt of her blade. "This feels like last night."
"It's related," Li Tian said. "But older."
They reached a bend where the path widened into a natural hollow. At its center stood a stone slab half-buried in earth, covered in worn carvings.
Li Tian froze.
His breath caught.
The symbols on the stone weren't unfamiliar.
They were his handwriting.
Not from this life.
From before.
Mei Lin stepped closer. "You recognize it."
"Yes."
He knelt slowly, brushing dirt from the surface.
The carvings depicted a circle broken by jagged lines—veils tearing, reforming, tearing again. At the center was a single mark, etched deeper than the rest.
A seal.
"This is a warning," Mei Lin said softly.
"No," Li Tian replied. "It's an apology."
Her head snapped toward him.
He closed his eyes.
And remembered.
Not everything.
But enough.
A gathering.
Not of enemies—but allies.
A decision made under pressure.
A choice between letting the world burn… or locking something away.
Himself included.
Li Tian's hands trembled.
"I wasn't sealed because I was weak," he said quietly. "Or because I lost."
Mei Lin waited.
"I agreed to it," he continued. "I helped design it."
The words felt heavy once spoken.
"You chose to be erased?" she asked.
"I chose delay," Li Tian corrected. "Time."
"For what?"
He opened his eyes, gaze distant. "For the world to forget why it needed me."
The System finally spoke.
[Memory Threshold Reached: Partial Recall Stabilized]
[Status: Emotional Load High]
[Recommendation: Do not force further recovery]
Li Tian laughed softly. "Even you think this is dangerous."
Mei Lin placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then stop."
He shook his head. "I can't. Not anymore."
The men without footprints.
The observers.
The envoys.
They weren't reacting to his power.
They were reacting to his return.
"Whatever I was before," Li Tian said, standing, "I wasn't just another cultivator."
Mei Lin met his eyes. "And whatever you sealed… it's waking up with you."
"Yes."
They didn't speak after that.
They moved on as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the path. But now Li Tian noticed something else—his shadow did not always align with his steps.
Sometimes, it lagged.
Sometimes, it leaned in the wrong direction.
Night fell.
They made camp near a cliff overlooking a vast expanse of forest. Far below, faint lights glimmered—another settlement, another place that might soon feel his presence.
Mei Lin sat by the fire, watching him carefully.
"You're changing," she said.
"So are you," he replied.
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't ask me to stop," Li Tian said. "You didn't ask what I'd become."
Mei Lin looked into the flames. "Because I already know the answer."
He waited.
"You'll become something dangerous," she said calmly. "But not cruel. Not careless."
She looked up. "And if you cross that line… I'll be the one to pull you back."
Li Tian studied her for a long moment.
Then he nodded. "Good."
The stars overhead flickered faintly, as if disturbed.
Far away, beyond sight and sound, something ancient shifted its posture—not curious now, not cautious.
Interested.
The seal was not breaking all at once.
It was unwinding.
And with every step Li Tian took, the world edged closer to remembering why it had once feared the name he no longer fully remembered.