The gates of the Blood Saber Sect shook as the horse gallops resounded, crazily and uneven. Mouth-foaming horses had their sides striped with blood and perspiration. Riders didn't dismount from horses in order but hobbled half-tumbling off their horses, their faces pale as if cold hands of the grave were still gripping their throats tight. The sentries moved to cut them off, but stopped at what they read in the men's eyes. These were not the eyes of warriors returned from war, but the haunted eyes of men who had seen their commander torn apart by something no man should be expected to live through.
The great hall was already lit when they were dragged in, lanterns casting long shadows across the spindled pillars of black ironwood. Old men sat cross-legged in semicircle, whispering silk robes with the slightest of gestures. At the center, on the dais of a thousand screaming mouths, sat Mo Tian, Blood Saber Sect Master. His silver-streaked hair framed a face chiseled from stone and cruelty. His hands rested on the arms of the throne, long fingers drumming once, twice, before falling silent. When his eyes opened, the room seemed to be cut by knives of ice.
The riders dropped to their knees, brows crashing into the tiles. Their broken skin splattered the floor with blood. "Sect Master. forgive us!" one choked, his voice trembling. "Commander Wei. Commander Wei is dead!"
The words hit the hall like a clap of thunder. A couple of elders sprang to their feet, robes whipping the air. Whispers breathed like poisonous snakes. Dead? It was impossible. Wei had used the Blood Saber since he was fifteen. He'd killed rivers of men, survived three heavenly calamities. For decades he had been the Sect Master's right hand. Hearing his name and death together in the same breath was sacrilege.
Mo Tian did not move. He just gazed down at the prostrate men, and even though he had yet to say a word, their bodies trembled as if mountains' heaviness lay on their backs. "Explain," he then spoke, low and level. It was more terrifying than a roar.
The messenger swallowed. "We rode with Commander Wei to kill a cripple of the Azure Blossom Sect… but he—he was not a cripple! Heaven struck him with tribulation, and he lived on! Commander Wei fought… his sword snapped, his body pinned. The cripple—no, the man—laughed on amidst lightning and fire. We… we fled. There was no more. Nothing!"
An elderly man slapped his hand on the ground, the crack echoing. "Cowards! You dare come here alive after betraying Commander Wei?" His killing qi roared out, and the men spat out blood on the spot. One fainted, body convulsing.
Another elder raised his hand, the room going quiet. "Wait. You said this man survived Heaven's tribulation? Unlikely. His core was broken—his name written by destruction. No mortal survives such contempt."
The messenger, finding it hard to lift his head, could barely whisper, "We saw it. We saw him ascend. Heaven itself tried to take his life, and he was not vanquished. He killed Commander Wei as if fate itself chose him."
The hall fell silent. Even the torches lost their luster. Mo Tian's eyes darkened, twin knives flashing in his eyes. "His name."
"Li Xian," the messenger managed to croak out. "Of the Azure Blossom Sect.".
The elders awoke, the name spitting between their numbers like a curse. A few laughed in disbelief, others muttered prayers of vengeance. One spat on the ground. "A worm who dares to crawl into heaven. If we do not strike back, the world will think us weak."
But another, with narrowed eyes, warned, "If he has indeed endured tribulation… then Heaven itself has sealed him. To kill so great a man may invite judgment we are not ready to face.".
"Wrath?" one of the cheek-scarred old men taunted, his laughter raw. "We are the wrath. Did not the skies curse us on the day we went Saber's road? We chip power from the bone of men! A single cripple turned miracle does not intimidate me."
The argument blazed like fire to dry leaves. The voices rang out, overlapping. Some called for war, others conspired patience. One had proposed sending assassins to quietly bleed him. Another had argued twisting the Azure Blossom Sect's allies against them. Amidst the cacophony, Mo Tian was quiet, fingers drumming lazily once more. When he did raise his hand, the hall stilled.
"Enough." His words were soft, but they captivated them as surely as chains. "Wei is dead. This. Li Xian stepped in where he should have perished. By Heaven's whim or by his own arrogance, it does not matter. What matters is this: the world now waits. If we strike blindly and we lose, we shall be fools. If we delay, his power will only grow."
His lips curled, not in a smile, but in a cruel baring of teeth. "We will not tarry. Nor will we strike with blind rage. Summon the Council of Knives. Tonight, we sharpen our blades not only on his throat, but on the sect that houses him. If the Azure Blossom chooses to defend this fiend, they will be drenched in their disciple's blood."
The messengers would not risk breathing. Elders bowed, one voice. "As Sect Master commands."
There was silence far from the blood-red hall, deep in the heart of the inner mountain of the Azure Blossom Sect. The tempest had exhausted itself, leaving the heavens clean-washed. In a secret jade room, shielded by the carved arrays and walls so thick that a scream could be smothered, Li Xian gently placed Su Yao on the bed of spirit silk. She had a white face, hair plastered to her cheeks in wet, sweaty spots, her breathing ragged. She tried to roll over, but pain clutched her center, causing her to clutch her chest. He touched her shoulder, solid but not cruel.
"Rest. Don't overdo it."
She moved her head, eyes clouded with tiredness and something sterner—fear of weakness. "If I am too weak to keep up with you… if I fall behind, what space will I have next to you?"
He stared at her, expressionless face, and bent forward until his breath kissed her mouth. "You stood by me when Heaven tried to erase me. You bled for me, defended me, braved the storm with me. Su Yao, even if I gather a hundred women, if the world bends, you will remain above them. No one can take that place."
Her eyes trembled, filling with heat. "Li Xian." Her voice wavered, and her eyes pricked with tears, which she angrily blinked away. "Then show me. Demonstrate I am not just another name in your shadow."
He smiled then, a harsh, hungry crease. "Very well."
He sat beside her, drawing her against him. Their bodies were battered, centers raw, but the moment their qi met, fire and ice blazed. Su Yao screamed, the flames searing through her veins. Her fingers dug into his chest, nails scratching, half pain, half starving hunger.
He possessed her, lips against her ear, voice rough and husky. "Don't resist. Let it in. Let it devour you."
Her cry was desperate, muffled as he pressed his mouth to hers, silencing her cry. Their qi churned, collided, combined—violently raw, wilder than harmony. Each pounding drew a cry from her lips, each lunge of his energy arched her, quivering. She clung to him as if she drowned, each breath a supplication.
The jade chamber glowed with the fierce radiance of their approach, red and white flashing, shadows writhing on the walls. Her scream built, wild, his name rolling over itself, broken with gasps and shrieks. He crushed her closer, merciless, holding her not only with strength but with his will, forcing her to think that she was his and his alone.
The tempest outside passed, but in these walls, a much deeper storm was still raging on.