The smoke hung low over the valley, a thin grey shroud curling through the ruins of what had been the Red Leaf Caravan. The once vibrant trail, filled with laughter and the rhythm of hooves, was now a graveyard of splintered carts and ash.
Lin Dong stood in the center of it all, his hands still faintly glowing from the aftershock of the rune's awakening. Every breath felt like fire in his lungs. The morning sun had risen — pale and cold, slicing through the lingering haze.
Beside him, Li Yan moved silently, bow slung over her shoulder, her hair matted with soot and blood. She crouched by a fallen guard, eyes hard but steady, and pulled a crimson scarf from her belt to cover the man's face.
"There were twenty of us," she said quietly. "Now there are six."
Her voice cracked only slightly.
Lin Dong knelt beside another fallen traveler — an old merchant who had shared his food with them the night before. He pressed a trembling hand to the man's chest, closed his eyes, and whispered something that was neither prayer nor spell, just a wordless apology.
The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the creak of settling wood and the distant cry of crows.
"You did what you had to," Li Yan said finally, straightening. "If you hadn't unleashed that power, we'd all be dead."
Lin Dong shook his head. "I didn't control it. It just… took over. Like something inside me wanted to fight back."
He touched the faint mark glowing under his shirt — the rune had dimmed to a quiet gold, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Li Yan glanced at it, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "That thing… it's ancient, isn't it? Not a common cultivation mark."
He hesitated. "I don't know what it is. My father found it in the mountains when I was little. Said it was a good luck charm."
"Good luck?" she snorted softly. "It just burned a Spirit-Stage beast out of the sky. That's more than luck, Lin Dong."
Before he could reply, a sound drifted from the eastern ridge — the rhythmic crunch of boots on gravel. Instantly, Li Yan reached for her bow.
From the mist, a figure emerged — tall, cloaked, leaning on a crooked staff. His face was mostly hidden beneath a broad hat, but the glint of his eyes — sharp, ancient — caught the sunlight like shards of ice.
He stopped a few feet from them, gaze sweeping the carnage. Then he sighed, long and weary.
"So it's awakened again."
Li Yan raised her weapon. "State your name, stranger."
He didn't flinch. "Names are useless to the dead. And many here will soon wish they were." His voice was soft, almost kind, but it carried a weight that made even the wind pause.
Lin Dong stepped forward. "You know about the rune?"
The stranger studied him. "I know of it. Few still remember the days when such power walked the earth. Fewer survived it."
He bent down, touching the scorched soil where the beast had fallen. His fingers traced the faint imprint of the symbol left behind — the same one that had flared from Lin Dong's chest.
"Heavenly Talisman Seal," he murmured. "I never thought I'd see it again."
Li Yan frowned. "Then you do know what it is."
The old man straightened slowly. "It's not what it is that matters, girl. It's what it calls. You think this was random? That beast didn't attack by chance. The moment the Talisman's light touched the world again, everything that hunts power felt it."
He turned to Lin Dong, his tone grave.
"You've painted a target on your soul, boy. And there are things far worse than that enforcer who will come for it."
Lin Dong felt a chill crawl down his spine. "Then tell me how to stop it."
The man's lips curved into something between a smile and pity. "You don't stop the heavens, Lin Dong. You earn your place among them."
He took a step closer, and for a fleeting instant, Lin Dong saw beneath the hat's shadow — a scar running down the man's left eye, faint lines of glowing script etched into his skin. A cultivator… but unlike any he'd seen.
"You're from the Ancient Alliance," Lin Dong said slowly.
The old man's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Once. A long time ago."
He looked toward the sky — the same direction the beast had vanished — and his expression hardened.
"The balance is shifting again. If you want to survive, you'll need a master before that mark devours you from the inside out."
Li Yan stepped between them. "You mean you want to train him?"
A low chuckle. "Train him? No. I wouldn't dare. The boy's destiny is his own. But I can tell him where to start."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a fragment of jade — small, cracked, engraved with a familiar sigil. When he tossed it, Lin Dong caught it instinctively. The rune within his chest responded, glowing faintly in sync with the stone.
"Head north," the stranger said. "Through the Gale Mountains. There's a place called the Stone Dragon Cavern. The first piece of your fate waits there."
Lin Dong looked down at the jade, then back up — but the man was already walking away.
"Wait!" Lin Dong called. "Who are you?"
The old man paused at the ridge. "A shadow of someone who failed to protect the world last time. Don't make the same mistake."
And then he was gone — fading into the mist as if swallowed by it.
For a long moment, the two stood in silence.
Li Yan finally exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Well, that was unsettling."
Lin Dong turned the jade over in his palm, watching how the sunlight caught the faint crack across it. "Stone Dragon Cavern…" he murmured. "If this thing's tied to me, then that's where I'll find out why."
Li Yan looked at him, eyes sharp with both caution and curiosity. "You're really going after it?"
He nodded. "If I don't, someone else will. And I can't let them use it to destroy everything."
She smirked faintly. "You're either brave or stupid."
"Maybe both."
For the first time since the battle, a small smile ghosted across his face. He slid the jade into his belt pouch and looked toward the mountains, where thunder rolled faintly in the distance.
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of storm and smoke.
And as the two survivors began walking north, the broken trail behind them slowly faded into silence — leaving only ashes and the faint echo of a heartbeat in the earth.