Year 4129 of the Central CalendarMonth of Summer Rain, Day 30Iron Fall City — Landing Plaza
The skyship's shadow slid across Iron Fall City before it descended onto the landing plaza. Its hull groaned as crystalline propellers slowed, runes glowing faint blue as refined Shadow Snake Qi pulsed through the sails.
Iron Fall City was a fortress of steel and fire. Blackstone walls rose high, their surfaces etched with the family's crest—two hammers crossed beneath a mountain. For the first time in weeks, Jian smelled the tang of smoke and molten iron through the wrappings that sealed his senses. The forge-song of the city was relentless: clang, clang, hiss, the rhythm of blades being born.
Mark jumped down first, boots striking the plaza with practiced ease. His grin was as wide as the gates themselves.
Mark: "Iron Fall! Hear that, Jian? Even the air here smells like steel. My kind of perfume."
Jian followed, steps measured, his blindfold still tied across his eyes, ears muffled by talismanic wrappings. Despite it, his body moved with quiet precision, guided by the faint ripples of Natural Qi brushing against the world around him.
A figure detached from the crowd waiting at the plaza's edge. She walked with elegance, her braid catching sparks of forge-light, her cloak embroidered in silver thread. Her expression was neither warm nor cold, but sharp, calculating.
Mark's Sister: "So, my brother returns after years abroad… and he brings this boy."
Mark's grin broadened. He opened his arms and pulled her into a hug before she could resist.
Mark: "Still sharp-tongued as ever, sis. Missed you too."
She wrinkled her nose but didn't push him away. Instead, her gaze shifted toward Jian, studying the strange cloth binding his face, the silence of his presence.
Mark's Sister: "Blindfolded. Ears covered. Tell me, is he broken… or pretending?"
Jian's chin tilted slightly, his voice low and even.
Jian: "Training."
A scoff escaped her lips. She stepped closer, circling him with deliberate, measured steps, like a smith appraising flawed metal.
Mark's Sister: "Training? By sealing yourself from the world? Sounds like weakness dressed up as mysticism."
She stopped three paces behind him, waiting for a reaction. Jian turned his head slightly, his words as sharp as his restraint.
Jian: "Three steps. Left."
Her eyes widened. He had tracked her movement flawlessly, blind.
Mark threw his head back and laughed, the sound booming across the plaza.
Mark: "Hah! Told you, sis. He's not blind—he's mad enough to make the wind his eyes."
Her arms folded across her chest, irritation battling curiosity.
Mark's Sister: "Madness, more like. You never trained me that strictly, brother. Why him?"
For the first time, Mark's humor softened into something more protective. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
Mark: "Because you're my sister. He's my student. Care takes different shapes."
Jian stood silent, but under the blindfold his head dipped slightly, acknowledging both statement and bond.
Later that Evening — Steel Family Hall
The hall glowed with the red heart of forges. Walls of black iron reflected firelight as smiths hammered in the distance, their strikes ringing like bells. Jian sat cross-legged near the hearth, his posture still as stone. Mark lounged against a pillar, while his sister leaned forward, eyes narrowed.
Mark's Sister: "Tell me, Feng Jian. Why bind your eyes and ears? Why give up sight when sight is a gift?"
Jian's fingers brushed the hilt of his blade. He spoke slowly, measured.
Jian: "Clarity. Without senses, I lean only on Qi. The world becomes… sharper."
Her lips pursed.
Mark's Sister: "Or maybe you're hiding weakness. A blade too fragile to show its edge."
For a moment, silence stretched. Then Jian's lips curved faintly, gone in an instant.
Jian: "Maybe."
Mark snorted, waving a hand.
Mark: "Don't bother, sis. Kid's stoic as a mountain. You could throw fire at his face and he'd just blink—well, if he could."
Mark's Sister: "Hmph. And yet you're proud of him."
Mark leaned back, eyes glinting with warmth.
Mark: "Of course. He listens. He learns. He survives. That's more than I can say for most of my past students."
Jian's silence spoke louder than words.
Next Morning — Market Streets of Iron Fall
The three walked through the bustling arteries of the city. Stalls overflowed with weapons: glaives humming with enchantment, daggers glowing faint red from embedded monster cores. The air was thick with coal smoke and sparks.
Citizens greeted Mark warmly.
Smith: "Master Mark! You've returned! And who's this quiet shadow following you?"
Mark: "My headache. My pride. My student."
Laughter rippled, but Mark's sister didn't join. She kept her eyes on Jian.
Mark's Sister: "Tell me, are you aiming for the Seven-Star Academy?"
Jian's head inclined.
Mark's Sister: "And if you fail?"
His answer was immediate, unshaken.
Jian: "Then I train more."
She stopped in her tracks, exhaling in frustration that sounded suspiciously like admiration.
Mark's Sister: "You really are his student. Single-minded. Reckless."
Mark grinned, hands behind his head as he walked on.
Mark: "Nah. Worse. He actually listens."