The sun rose over Qingyang Town, spilling gold across the rooftops and mist-laced fields.
At the edge of the Lin compound, a small crowd gathered — family, servants, and a few curious villagers. Lin Dong stood among them, travel pack slung over his shoulder, the iron token hanging from his neck like a promise.
He glanced back once more. The courtyard where lightning had fallen was still scarred, blackened stone webbed with cracks. Every mark whispered remember.
"Dong'er," Lin Xiao said, clasping his shoulder. "The road to Yan City is long — three days by cart, if the weather holds. But you'll go alone. You need to learn the world's weight on your own back."
Lin Dong nodded, voice quiet but steady.
"I will."
From the doorway, Qingtan — his younger sister — ran forward, holding out a small jade charm tied with a red thread.
"For protection," she said shyly. "Grandmother said it'll keep bad spirits away."
He smiled, taking it gently.
"Then I'll keep it close."
As he turned to go, she caught his hand. Her voice trembled.
"Come back soon, big brother."
He looked at her — at the innocence, the fear, the belief — and for the first time since the storm, his eyes softened.
"I will. Stronger than before."
He set off down the dirt road as the first gust of morning wind swept through the valley. The Lin compound faded behind him, swallowed by the light. Ahead, the mountains opened like the jaws of a waiting beast.
Hours passed. The path wound through dense bamboo forests and winding ridges, where mist clung low and the cry of unseen beasts echoed faintly.
Each step was both liberation and burden — freedom, but with the weight of destiny pressing at his spine.
By noon, Lin Dong paused by a stream to rest. He washed his face in the cold water, studying the faint glint of the rune reflected beneath his collar.
It pulsed once — softly, like it was listening.
A rustle.
He froze.
From the trees emerged a small caravan — three wagons, a dozen travelers. Merchants, judging by the sigil of the Red Leaf Caravan painted on their carts. But the men guarding them… their movements were too sharp, too coordinated.
One of them, a woman with a bow slung over her shoulder and a scar across her cheek, called out:
"You there! Alone on this road? Brave — or foolish?"
Lin Dong straightened slowly. "Just passing through."
The woman studied him, eyes narrowing on the iron token around his neck.
"Yan City Martial Hall, eh? Then you're walking the wrong road. Beasts roam this stretch — and worse."
Another guard laughed. "Let him be, Li Yan. If the beasts don't eat him, bandits will."
Lin Dong's gaze flicked past them — to the forest beyond, where something was watching. A ripple of shadow, too fluid to be mere light.
The rune beneath his skin warmed.
"Something's coming," he said quietly.
The woman frowned. "What—?"
A roar shattered the air.
Trees exploded outward as a Windfang Wolf, twice the size of a horse, burst from the treeline — its fur rippling with black wind, eyes gleaming with hunger.
The caravan erupted into chaos. Horses screamed, men shouted, arrows flew.
Lin Dong didn't think. His body moved.
He leapt forward, drawing a crude iron staff from his pack. The wolf lunged — a blur of fangs and storm.
Time slowed. Again, that pulse in his chest — golden, alive. He swung the staff upward.
CLANG!
The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing. The beast staggered back, more surprised than hurt. Lin Dong's arms shook with pain, but the rune responded — a flash of light along the weapon's length, reinforcing it.
The woman, Li Yan, shouted,
"He's channeling Qi—? No, that's something else!"
The wolf roared again, wind whipping into a cyclone. Lin Dong ducked beneath its claws, rolled, and slammed the glowing staff into its jaw.
With a final, bone-splintering crack, the beast crashed into the riverbank and went still.
Silence fell — broken only by the sound of rushing water.
Lin Dong stood over it, chest heaving, steam rising from his skin. The rune dimmed, fading back into his veins like nothing had happened.
The caravan guards stared, weapons half-raised, unsure whether to thank him or fear him.
Li Yan stepped forward first.
"Not bad for a boy walking alone."
He wiped the blood from his cheek. "I didn't come here to die."
She smirked. "Then maybe you'll make it to Yan City after all. Come with us — safer in numbers."
Lin Dong hesitated, then nodded.
As the caravan rolled on, he glanced back once more at the forest, where the wolf had fallen.
Its blood shimmered faintly — and in that shimmer, something dark stirred, vanishing into the soil.
Far away, beyond the mountains, a pair of unseen eyes opened in the void. Watching.
"The seal is weakening," a voice whispered. "And the boy has found the first spark."
The wind carried the words into silence.