Quinn exhaled again, shaking his head faintly. "I'm not your enemy. I don't even know what this thing is about, but I can tell that it has brought you nothing but troubles." He turned toward the bed and reached beneath it, pulling out the small wooden box. Its faintly carved symbols glimmered under the lantern light.
"Here," he said quietly. "Take it back."
The boy's eyes widened. "You're… returning it?"
"I don't plan to get myself killed over something that doesn't belong to me," Quinn replied, walking toward him. "Whatever mess this is, settle it before it grows worse. Just—"
He was cut off by a sudden noise — the door slamming open so hard that the hinges groaned.
Zi stood there, breathing heavily, her expression unreadable.
"Zi?" Quinn's brows furrowed. "Where have you—"
Before he could finish, several men stepped into the room behind her. They were all clad in dark crimson robes embroidered with silver threads, their movements disciplined, their faces cold and familiar — the mark of trained cultivators. The air instantly thickened with killing intent.
The boy froze on the spot, color draining from his face.
Quinn turned sharply toward Zi, his voice low and controlled. "Who are they, Zi?"
Zi didn't answer. Her eyes met his briefly — and for a fleeting moment, guilt flashed there before vanishing into calm emptiness.
"Zi," he repeated, stepping closer. "Who are these men? Why are they here?"
Before she could respond, one of the men stepped forward — tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing the insignia of a roaring phoenix on his chest. His eyes, sharp as steel, fixed on Quinn.
"We are from the Feng Clan," the man announced in a voice that filled the small room. "And the girl was the one who brought us to you."
Quinn's chest tightened. "Brought you… here?"
The man smirked faintly. "Indeed. We have come to retrieve what belongs to us." His eyes drifted to the wooden box still in Quinn's hand. "The box. Hand it over, and we may let you live."
For a long, silent moment, Quinn could only stare — first at the man, then at Zi.
She avoided his gaze.
"Zi…" His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Tell me this isn't true."
But she said nothing. Her fingers trembled faintly at her side, though she quickly hid it by clenching them into fists.
The boy stumbled backward, fear written plainly on his face. "You… you told them?" he stammered.
"I had to," Zi murmured, her tone weak but cold at the same time. "They said you were carrying something dangerous… something that could bring harm to everyone here."
Quinn's expression darkened, disbelief flickering across his face. "And you believed them?"
She flinched slightly but kept her eyes down. "I didn't have a choice."
"Yes, you did," Quinn said quietly. His hand slowly tightened around the box. "You always had a choice."
The leader of the Feng Clan took a step forward, his aura flaring like a burning storm. "Enough talk. Hand over the item now, outsider. You have no idea what you're holding."
Quinn's gaze shifted to him, cold and dangerous. "Maybe not. But you broke into my room, and you threatened my sister." His voice lowered, calm yet sharper than any blade. "You'll leave without what you came for… or not at all."
The man sneered. "Do you really think you can stop us?"
Quinn's lips curved slightly — not in amusement, but something far more dangerous. "I don't think. I know."
The room erupted with energy as the men drew their weapons. The lantern flame flickered violently, shadows moving against the walls.
Quinn handed the box swiftly to the boy. "Stay behind me," he said firmly.
The boy hesitated, gripping the box to his chest. "But—"
"Do it," Quinn ordered without looking back.
The first of the Feng Clan's men lunged forward, blade flashing.
Quinn's hand moved almost lazily, and in an instant, a black chain materialized behind him, it pulsed with spiritual energy. It lashed out with a metallic shriek, striking the man's weapon mid-swing and shattering the steel like brittle glass.
The attacker was thrown backward, slamming into the wall.
The leader narrowed his eyes. "Soul Chains? But how?"
"A dying man has no right to ask questions about what killed him," Quinn replied coolly, his eyes glinting beneath the dim light.
The other men surrounded him quickly, their spiritual energy forming a crimson barrier around the room. Zi stood frozen near the door, her breathing uneven as the air crackled with power.
Quinn didn't hesitate. He moved forward, his chain splitting into three, each one striking with perfect precision — disarming, deflecting, and retaliating all at once. Sparks filled the air as steel met spiritual force.
The floor cracked beneath their feet, wind from their clashes sending dust swirling.
The boy ducked under the table, clutching the box tightly. He could barely see past the chaos — only flashes of Quinn's movements, sharp and effortless, like shadows cutting through light.
"Enough!" the leader roared, his aura bursting outward as a phoenix of fire erupted behind him. "Let's see how long you can last against the Feng Clan's Flame Vein Technique!"
Quinn's chains retracted, coiling behind him like serpents waiting to strike. His expression didn't change. "You talk too much."
The man roared, lunging forward with flames swirling around his blade. The air grew scorching hot, the walls cracking under the heat.
Quinn lifted his hand slowly, dark chains surging upward like living creatures. "soul bind!"
The chains struck out in a blinding flash, wrapping around the phoenix flame, crushing it mid-flight. The sound of breaking metal and shattering spirit energy filled the room.
In seconds, the leader was on his knees, his blade broken, his aura flickering.
Quinn stood before him, calm and unmoved.
"I told you," he said quietly, "you should've left when you had the chance."
The man spat blood, glaring up at him. "You… you'll regret crossing the Feng Clan."
"Maybe," Quinn replied simply. "But not tonight."
He flicked his wrist. The chains struck once more — clean and swift. The man collapsed unconscious before he could even cry out.
Silence returned to the room, heavy and breathless.
Zi stood frozen in place, her lips trembling, unable to meet her brother's gaze.
Quinn turned toward her slowly, his eyes unreadable.
"Zi," he said softly, almost too calmly. "We'll talk about this later."
He turned to the boy. "Take the box and go. Now."
The boy hesitated, staring at him with wide eyes. "But what about—"
"Go!" Quinn barked.
The boy nodded and bolted through the open door.
When the footsteps faded, Quinn looked back at his sister. For the first time, she couldn't recognize the expression on his face — not anger, not disappointment, but something quieter… colder.
He walked past her, stopping only once to say, "Don't leave the inn until I return."
And then he was gone — stepping out into the night where moonlight and shadow met, leaving Zi alone amidst the wreckage she had unknowingly caused.