The mist was thinner today.
Lee noticed it the moment he stepped into the forest's outer ring. The trees didn't whisper. They watched.
Something was off.
Then he heard it — the faint rustle of armor and the telltale ring of deliberate silence.
Soldiers.
He dropped low, melting into the brush. His aura folded inward like a coiled breath. Watching.
There, marching along the hollow deer trail, came six men — no, five men and a woman — all wearing Earth Kingdom patrol colors, though their armor was worn and customized. Veterans. Not conscripts.
Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked hair and sharp eyes, held a scroll in one hand and a stone carving in the other — shaped like a curved horn. A relic.
Lee's eyes narrowed. That belonged to the shaman.
The one I burned.
He rose calmly from the undergrowth, brushing off leaves. No attempt to hide anymore.
The soldiers froze, hands on hilts.
The leader took a slow step forward. "Boy."
Lee smiled politely. "Good afternoon."
"What are you doing here?"
"I live nearby."
"In this forest?"
"I like the quiet. And the company." He glanced at the trees, where unseen spirits lingered like old smoke.
The woman, younger than the others, squinted. "You're Lee, aren't you? Lee Wunshin?"
His smile didn't fade. "You know me?"
"My aunt lives in the village. Said you were a respectful kid. Bit odd. Disappears a lot."
"She exaggerates."
The leader lowered his stone. "We're looking for someone. A shaman. He went missing months ago. Old friend of mine. Said he was following spiritual disturbances in this region."
Lee's voice remained calm. "He may have gotten lost. The forest is... deep."
The man's gaze hardened. "He wasn't the kind to get lost. Neither was his friend — a retired martial artist. Said he trained a boy here. That you?"
"I trained with someone once. We fell out."
"Where is he now?"
Lee's head tilted slightly. "Gone."
The woman shifted. "Gone where?"
Lee took a slow step forward, now just ten paces away.
"I buried them both. One beneath stone. The other beneath ash."
The group tensed. One man reached for his blade.
But Lee kept walking, hands open.
"They were good men. Brave, loyal. But they got too curious." His voice softened — not apologetic, but sincere. "And curiosity, here, is a blade without a handle."
"You killed them."
"I ended them," Lee said. "There's a difference. They came at me with answers I couldn't afford to let live."
The silence between them was thick.
Finally, the woman stepped forward. "We should arrest him."
Lee smiled. "You could try."
The mist shifted.
The pressure changed.
Every soldier felt it — a cold, coiling dread crawling up their spine. Not panic. Not pain.
Doubt.
The kind that made hands shake before a duel. That made legs feel heavy.
Lee let them feel the edge of his presence.
Just enough.
"I won't stop you," he said softly, "but know this: if you fight me, you'll lose more than your mission. You'll lose the right to say goodbye to the men you came to honor."
He stepped aside and gestured toward the path ahead.
"I built them a grave."
The patrol walked in silence.
Past the burnt trees. Past the blackened roots.
To a small rise in the charcoal soil, where two stones stood:
Kaishen of the Veil – Walker Between Worlds
He sought truth in the dark and found fire.
Master Yoru of the Iron Wind
Here lies a man who cared — more than I ever deserved.
The old commander stood still, lips pressed thin. The woman stared at the graves, brows furrowed.
The others said nothing.
Lee sat on a low rock, eyes closed.
Let them mourn.
Let them misunderstand.
Finally, the leader spoke. "Are you going to do this to others?"
Lee opened his eyes. "Only those who force me to."
"And if we tell someone?"
Lee looked at him calmly. "Then I become your problem again. But next time, I won't offer a grave."
The wind passed through the trees, soft and dry.
The patrol turned.
And left.
That night, as the mist returned, Lee stepped into his summoning circle.
Everything was in place.
Hei Bai would come.
And this time, Lee wouldn't just dance with spirits.
He would devour them.