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Chapter 14 - OMEN OF BLOOD

Lethean walked silently beside his mother, his small hand clutching hers as if it were a lifeline. His gaze kept drifting to her profile, a deep, unshakable dread coiling in his gut like a serpent.

"What's wrong, Le'er? You seem troubled," Caiyi asked gently, her voice a soft counterpoint to the eerie silence of the slave quarters. The day's work was done, and the only sounds were the distant thump-thump-thump of a few dedicated children practicing their forms on straw dummies.

"No," Lethean murmured, shaking his head as if to dislodge the oppressive worry. "It's nothing."

"You can always talk to me," she insisted, her tone laced with concern.

"I'm just… blanking out," he said, the lie feeling hollow.

A sharp wind blew, whipping his long silver hair across his face. He tilted his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. "Mom."

"Yes, Lethean? I'm listening." Her voice was a gentle promise.

"Promise you won't leave me." The words tore from him, and as they did, a painful lump formed in his throat. His eyes stung with unbidden tears.

Caiyi's heart ached. "What are you saying, Le'er? I will never leave you. I promise. Nothing can separate us." She squeezed his hand, offering a tender smile. "Unless you decide to get married one day, of course."

"Hmm," he hummed, the sound small and vulnerable. He gripped her hand tighter, a anchor in the swirling sea of his anxiety.

"Bastard. Trash. Whore. Tsk."

The vile whisper sliced through the tender moment like a knife.

Lethean's head snapped toward the sound. A fifteen-year-old boy leaned casually against a withered tree, a sneer plastered on his face. Their eyes met.

In that instant, something in Lethean shattered.

A brutal, freezing killing intent erupted from his small frame, so potent it seemed to solidify the very air. The boy's sneer vanished, replaced by pure, primal terror. He began to shiver violently, every hair on his body standing on end.

"Ah!" Caiyi gasped, feeling the chilling aura emanating from her son. The gentle boy was gone, replaced by a creature of pure rage. His face, usually a mask of calm, was now twisted into something feral and terrifying.

"Le'er, what's wrong? Don't scare Mommy! Ignore him, let's go home!" She tugged at his arm, but he was a statue, unyielding. The anger that had been simmering in him for days had finally found its target.

His vision began to tinge with red, his mother's pleading voice fading into a distant echo. All he could see was the boy. All he could feel was a boiling, abysmal rage rushing to his head, demanding release.

CRAAAHHHHHH!!!!

The crow's screech was the trigger.

It was as if a dam broke. Scarlet fury consumed his vision entirely. With a violent wrench of his wrist, he broke free from his mother's grasp and launched himself forward with the speed of a pouncing tiger.

"LETHEAN!" Caiyi's horror-filled scream was lost to the roar of blood in his ears.

He closed the distance in a heartbeat. A vicious kick, accompanied by the sound of splitting wind, slammed into the stunned boy's face.

BANG!

The impact was sickening. Blood erupted from the boy's nose. Before he could even cry out, a savage jab to his abdomen forced the air from his lungs, followed by a spray of crimson.

BANG!

Another punch, this time to the jaw, snapped his head to the side, leaving a dark, instant bruise. The boy's body crumpled to the ground with a crunch of breaking bone.

Lethean was on him in an instant. He planted a foot on the boy's mouth, grinding his lips into the dirt, forcing the blood back down his throat.

"Say… it… again…" Lethean growled, his voice a guttural, inhuman sound. "…if… you… DARE!!!"

"LETHEAN, STOP!" Caiyi finally reached them, her face pale with terror. She saw the life fading from the boy's eyes. With strength born of desperation, she wrapped her arms around her son, pulling his thrashing body against her chest.

As she struggled to restrain him, she frantically forced a healing pill into the boy's mouth, guiding its energy with her own qi to keep him from dying.

"Lethean, wake up!" she cried, her voice breaking with pain and fear.

Ahhh! She cried out as a searing pain shot through her arm. Lethean, in his blind rage, had sunk his teeth into her flesh, drawing blood.

The taste of copper—his mother's blood—hit his tongue.

It was like a splash of cold water.

The red haze receded. Clarity returned. He looked down in horror at the deep, bloody bite mark on his mother's arm. Then he saw the broken, bleeding boy at his feet, and his mother's face, contorted in pain as she desperately tried to save a life while still holding him close.

He fell silent, shock and overwhelming guilt crashing down on him.

CRAHHH!

He turned slowly. The crow was there, perched nearby, its blood-red eyes staring directly into his soul. It seemed to examine him, this small boy covered in violence, before letting out another piercing shriek and vanishing into the sky.

"Le'er… are you alright?" Caiyi asked, her voice trembling but still gentle. Despite her own pain, her first concern was for him.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice small, unable to meet her eyes.

"Don't blame yourself. I know you didn't mean it," she soothed, her love unwavering.

The boy on the ground groaned, consciousness returning. He took one look at Lethean's now-innocent face, let out a strangled cry of pure terror, and scrambled to his feet, fleeing for his life.

As he disappeared, Caiyi turned back to her son, pulling him into a deep hug. "What happened to you?" she asked, her voice a mixture of tenderness and deep worry.

"I don't know," Lethean said, his own confusion mirroring hers. He truly didn't.

Holding him tight, she led him back toward their dilapidated courtyard, leaving the scene of violence behind, the taste of blood and the memory of a crow's cry hanging heavy in the air.

---

PATRIARCH! The two Sect Masters request an audience!

A guard knelt in the hall, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

"Bring them to the meeting hall," Fen Jeuchen commanded. He was already adorned in magnificent silver armor etched with swirling wind symbols, looking every bit the majestic patriarch ready for war. Yet, a sinister light flickered intermittently in the depths of his pupils.

Soon, the heavy doors swung open with a bang, and two men radiating immense power strode in.

"Patriarch Fen," began Hua Piao, the Sword Spirit Sect Master, his tone laced with displeasure. "Is this how you welcome allies? We are your guests."

Beside him, Beast Flame Sect Master Hua Yan remained silent, but his furrowed, fiery brows spoke volumes of his shared irritation.

Fen Jeuchen offered a cold, hollow laugh. "My friends, I did not invite you. You requested this audience. Remember your place."

"Cut the crap," Hua Yan snapped, his impatience boiling over. "Our forces are assembled at the rendezvous point. When do we strike?"

"There is no need for such haste, Beast Flame Sect Master," Fen Jeuchen said dismissively.

"Hmph. The one who insisted on this very night, who refused any delay no matter the cost, was you," Hua Piao retorted, his voice dripping with ridicule.

Fen Jeuchen's eyes narrowed. "Tsk."

"Enough fooling around, Fen Jeuchen!" Hua Yan barked, the air around him shimmering with heat. "Give us the time!"

"We converge at the rendezvous at 8 o'clock," Fen Jeuchen stated stiffly. "Do not be late."

"We will see you there, Fen Clan Patriarch," Hua Piao said with a curt nod.

"Hmph." Fen Jeuchen waved a hand, shooing them away. "I have preparations to complete. If there is nothing else, you are dismissed."

The two sect masters exchanged a glance, grunted in unison, and strode out, their powerful auras fading as they disappeared from sight.

"Fools," Fen Jeuchen spat the moment they were gone, his eyes filled with mockery.

Then his gaze turned westward, and all ridicule vanished, replaced by a darkness as deep and cold as the abyss.

"Qi Clan…" he whispered, the name a curse on his lips. His voice dropped to a venomous, rasping promise that chilled the very air in the hall.

"Your… end… is… NIGH."

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