Kaolin woke with a sharp pain piercing from beneath his ribcage, the sudden jolt forcing a groan from his lips as his body writhed. Instinctively, his hand flew to the source, finding tightly wound bandages damp with blood spreading across the linen on his bare chest.
He clenched his jaw, taking a decisive moment to gather strength before forcing himself upright. The crushing agony left him heaving as his glassy eyes, fraught with exhaustion, took in the sight before him, causing him to arch his brows. The high-vaulted ceiling of the Huan-Yue palace towered above him, the walls etched with numerous glyphs and wards that glimmered faintly in the dimness of the chamber.
He drew a slow breath before lowering his feet to the jade floor, the chill biting into his feet and clashing with the fever that still lingered in his blood. He remained seated for a moment, trying to recall how he ended up here, and more pressing, how long he had been here when all hell was about to break loose.
His whole body trembled as he finally rose, his knees nearly giving way under him from the stabbing pain that flared with each heartbeat. Still, he pushed forwards, step by step, until his palm pressed against the ornate doorframe, and the hinges groaned as he cracked it open with all that remained of his strength.
Two Immortal guards stood flanking the threshold as he emerged, clad in golden armour. They spun in unison, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before them as Kaolin, despite his hunched and weakened state, leaned against the walls to steady himself and move forwards.
"Master Kaolin!" one of them shouted, lunging forwards and catching him just in time, his arm digging into Kaolin's side to keep him from collapsing. "You shouldn't be out of bed! His Highness gave strict orders—"
"How long have I been here? Quick, answer."
The guards exchanged an uneasy glance. "Seven days," one finally said. "You were found outside the ruins of Koryuthan by a rebel. His Highness ordered your recovery and has kept you here under warded healing ever since."
Kaolin's eyes darkened. "Seven days?" he repeated, more to himself than to them. Then, with urgency in his voice: "Where's Zhenhai? I must speak to him at once." And when the guards failed to reply, seeing red as countless harrowing thoughts bore him down. "Didn't you hear me!? Hurry, bring me to him!"
The guard who had supported him hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "This way," he said, guiding Kaolin towards the southern wing of the main building. "His Highness is at the training grounds."
The other guard joined them from behind, eyes flicking between Kaolin's laboured movements and the path ahead, silent but alert, bracing for whatever awaited them. The orders had been clear: Master Kaolin was not to leave the chamber until his wound had fully healed. Yet they knew that without him, the Jinlian Guards would stand no chance against the Demon Army, whose demonic powers, abysmal formation arts, and relentless cruelty threatened their very existence. Only Master Kaolin had the insight as well as the will to see through the demons' heinous schemes and cunning tricks, and they needed that insight more than ever now, for the demons were set to reach the northern border in less than a fortnight.
Through the hallowed halls of Huan-Yue, they passed beneath floating lanterns and portraits of the Jinlian Sect's most formidable members, their savage eyes following their every move. These were the very people whose actions had set in motion the chain of events that ultimately freed the Demon God from his chains and plunged all of Shenzhou into grave danger. And all that misery for what? For greed, for power – to crown themselves rulers over these vast lands soaked in blood at the cost of the common people's suffering!
Beyond a final gate, the courtyard spilt into the training grounds, which were full of brave warriors ready to risk their lives to keep Huan-Yue safe. Hundreds of Jinlian Guards moved as one, their footfalls striking the ground in sync as they practised intricate formations and qi-fuelled attacks with unwavering focus, following the lead of Zhenhai, who stood at the centre and forefront with a commanding aura, his robes swaying subtly with each delicate formation. But not for long.
A sudden hush passed through the ranks, and one by one, the Immortals faltered and their movements slowed as their eyes shifted towards the entrance, where Kaolin limped through the archway with the two guards behind him, clutching his bandaged chest. The morning sun caught his figure at the perfect angle, setting his long hair aglow and casting an unnaturally long shadow behind him. He looked as though death itself had marked him long ago, and yet, somehow, it had failed to claim him.
"Master Kaolin," someone whispered, breaking the sudden silence. The words spread, soft at first, then morphed into a wave of murmurs, so that weapons were lowered and every eye was fixed on him. Even the moaning wind seemed to hush in anticipation of his first words.
Zhenhai was the last to turn and froze the moment he saw Kaolin, his shock giving way to anger upon seeing his weakened state and the dark stains spreading across the linen. He surged forwards, fists clenched, his voice cutting through the prevailing silence. "Have you lost your mind!?" he snapped. "Coming here like this – you'll tear your wound open!"
"You prefer me to stay idle and watch?"
"There are others who can lead the training!"
"Not like I can," Kaolin retorted. "You know that too."
Zhenhai stared at him for a long moment, jaw clenched and indecisive. He knew Kaolin was right, that they needed him to see through the demons' cunning ways and attacks, but something kept him from admitting this. Perhaps it was those memories he had of the other, the bond of a past lifetime weighing him down, but whatever it was, he knew he could not let those thoughts deter him from taking the right decisions. Huan-Yue needed his leadership more than ever, and though his heart disagreed, his mind told him that there was but one way to go forwards. Thus, albeit reluctantly, he nodded.
"Very well. But promise you won't force yourself too much."
"I won't," he said, briefly scanning the training grounds before adding as a fragment of memory pressed on. "Where's that fool?"
"Fool?" repeated Zhenhai before realising who Kaolin meant. "Wei Lan left shortly after bringing you here. Said he had matters to tend to."
"Matters more pressing than the fall of Shenzhou, huh…?"
Zhenhai observed him for a while as he mumbled those words and looked away, lost momentarily in his thoughts and avoiding another grave matter on purpose. If he did not bring it up first, he knew that Kaolin would continue to feign ignorance.
"This," he said, his stern gaze softening as it settled on the wound still spilling blood and soaking through the linen, "how did it come to be?"
"You already know, so why ask?"
Zhenhai's gaze dropped. "I know, and I wish I didn't," he replied. "But what I don't understand is why, Kaolin. Why must you go through all this?"
"If I don't, who will? Weren't you the one who told me to take responsibility for the common people's suffering?" he said, adding before the other could cut in. "Why are you acting like this now?"
"And you said the path carved for you is not the path you want to follow! So, what exactly do you want to achieve by corrupting your core? Saving people? After leaving the fate of Shenzhou at the mercy of the Demon God—"
"Then what? You ask me to do nothing while more die because of me? That I ignore the blood that stains my hands?"
"You don't owe anyone anything, Kaolin… Not even me."
A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he heard this. "Isn't it a little too late for such words now? What's done is done. There's no turning back from here."
For a long moment, Zhenhai said nothing, or rather, he could not. And as the tension grew between them, Kaolin broke eye contact and turned to face the warriors watching them with both dread and awe.
Pulling his hair back in a loose tie, he folded his hands behind his back as he always did, his gaze scanning the rows of brave souls who stood before him in silence and anticipation, before his booming voice cut through the stillness with authority, each word carrying weight and commanding the full attention of everyone present.
"Steel alone will not break the Demon Army. Victory does not lie in the strength of your arms, but in the sharpness of your mind, the clarity of your spirit, and the fire of your qi. You must move as one with your energy, let it flow through you, guide your strikes, anticipate your enemy, and shield your comrades. Only then can you stand against the horrors that await you."
He paused briefly as pain tore through him with every word, causing him to wince and tense his muscles to stifle an escaping groan. But his resolve and the fire in his eyes never left, not even once, as he pressed on.
"Remember this, if nothing else: doubt is your true enemy. Doubt allows the demons' darkness to seep in, to poison your hearts before the fight even begins. No matter what happens on the battlefield, you must trust your training and your brothers beside you. Together, if we move as one, even if we fail to reclaim these lands, the demons will remember your courage and speak of a battle fought fiercely, every drop of blood given without hesitation. Now tell me, are you willing to stand as one and fight till your last breath with me!?"
"We will fight to our last breath under your command!"
The shout tore across the training grounds in a uniform roar that shook the ground beneath their feet. Swords trembled in hands, armour rattled, and the air itself pulsed with the force of their unity. One by one, the Immortal guards sank to one knee to show their unwavering trust in him, their eyes full of determination and hearts igniting with a fire that mirrored Kaolin's own. In that instant, hesitation vanished, replaced by the unbreakable resolve of warriors ready to face the Demon Army under his lead.
The speech raised the morale, which no one knew had been waning all along, and the Immortal guards trained harder than ever before, so much so that sweat soon lined their brows, and their breathing grew ragged. Kaolin pushed them harder too, correcting each posture, refining each technique, his own body moving alongside theirs despite the bloody bandages wrapped around his chest and the surge of pain coming in waves, threatening to break him.
But he had no other option but to drive the warriors harder and push them to their limits, even as the excruciating pain rippled through every fibre of his being and made him clench his jaw with every swing, every step, every flow of qi rising from his corrupted core. The Demons and Devils would show no mercy, and neither could he. There was no time to waste, not a second to spare for idle matters – all that mattered was to prepare for the war fast approaching.