Chapter 3
The first one moved like smoke.
Shen Rui didn't see the attack—he felt it.
A silent gust of heat brushed past his cheek, and the tree behind him cracked in half, sliced cleanly through. Sap hissed on the air as it steamed against the energy blade.
Rui spun around, instinct overriding fear. The dagger in his hand felt like a twig against the mouthless monk cloaked in midnight silk, whose face was nothing but smooth, pale skin. No eyes. No mouth. Just the hint of a human that once was.
They moved in silence.
No footsteps. No breath.
Just death.
---
He ducked low as another slash came for his throat. It missed by inches, but the air screamed where the blade passed. He rolled across the wet grass and slammed into a stone basin, pain flaring in his ribs.
Think. Move. Fight.
Another monk rushed him.
He leapt back, barely dodging the blow, then lunged forward and drove the dagger deep into the attacker's shoulder.
Or tried to.
The blade didn't pierce flesh.
It stopped—midair—like the monk's body had rejected the very idea of injury.
Rui's eyes widened.
"What the hell are you?"
The monk responded by shoving a palm into his chest.
A burst of force exploded through his ribcage and hurled him across the yard. He hit the ground hard, rolling, choking on dirt and blood.
His vision blurred.
But then—the pulse inside him roared to life.
---
It wasn't a thought.
It wasn't even a decision.
It was instinct.
Rui's eyes flared gold as he pushed to his knees. The earth beneath his palms trembled.
A low growl echoed in his bones.
The air shifted.
Flames—not orange, not red, but flickering with blue and white veins—lit his veins. The Dragon Pulse he'd unlocked began to react, humming with energy. Not controlled. Not mastered.
But awake.
The monks paused.
Almost as if… startled.
That gave him two seconds.
Rui slammed his palm into the ground and shouted, "Dragon's Breath—First Form!"
A shockwave of flame burst outward in a circle, scorching the grass, tearing through the fog, and sending two monks flying back, robes aflame.
The third vanished from view—only to reappear behind him.
Too fast.
Rui turned just in time to see a blade descending.
And then—steel met steel.
Sparks exploded as Yan Zhi blocked the strike with her twin crescent blades.
She shoved the monk back, spinning smoothly and drawing blood with a slash to the side.
"You idiot," she growled. "You triggered them too early!"
Rui gasped. "I didn't—"
"Shut up and move!"
---
The monks regrouped fast.
All five of them circled, hands glowing with dark sigils. They began to chant—not with voices, but with movement. Their heads swayed rhythmically. Their palms traced symbols in the air that burned red.
"They're summoning," Yan Zhi said under her breath. "If they finish—"
"I know," Rui muttered. "Can you stop them?"
"Not all five. But maybe three."
Rui took a breath. "Then I'll handle the other two."
She raised an eyebrow. "You can barely stand."
"I don't need to stand."
He focused on the pulse inside him.
---
The Dragon Pulse was like holding a flame in his chest. One too wild to cage, too raw to control.
But if he could guide it, even briefly—
"Second Form," Rui whispered. "Rising Talon."
His feet exploded from the ground.
He launched into the air like a firecracker, twisting mid-spin, and brought his knee crashing down onto the head of one monk mid-chant.
The skull cracked beneath the force. The monk dropped instantly, melting into black smoke.
Another lunged at him, arms wide, ready to restrain.
Rui spun in the air and drove a heel into its chest, then grabbed its robe, twisted, and slammed it into the side of the well.
Yan Zhi, meanwhile, moved like water. Her twin blades flashed as she danced between the monks, cutting deep, severing arms, slicing tendons. One monk reached for her face—
She slit its wrist before the fingers touched her cheek.
"Behind you!" Rui shouted.
She turned and ducked just as another monk's blade skimmed the tip of her ear. In response, she plunged her dagger upward, right under the chin.
No blood.
Just more ash.
---
The final monk let out a long, gurgling sound—then exploded into a cloud of smoke that rose into the sky and disappeared into the clouds.
Rui leaned against a wall, panting, body trembling.
Yan Zhi didn't speak.
She crouched beside the monk's remains, examining the ash.
"I thought they were a myth," she said. "Ghost-Servants of the Hollow Sect. No mouths because they've had their souls burned out."
"Hollow Sect?"
She looked up. "One of the thirteen dead sects that shouldn't exist anymore."
"Apparently, they do now."
"No." Her voice dropped. "They don't exist on their own."
Rui stared. "Then who sent them?"
Yan Zhi rose slowly. "Someone who knows what you unlocked. And wants it."
---
They buried the girl who turned to ash.
No one in the village asked questions. Not because they didn't care—because they were used to it.
That was worse.
Rui sat at the edge of the river that night, listening to the water rush over stones. The fight had left him aching, but more than that, it left him shaken.
He had power now.
But it wasn't controlled.
And worse—people were dying because of it.
"You blame yourself," Yan Zhi said, walking up behind him.
He didn't answer.
"You shouldn't," she added. "But you will. That's how they break you."
He glanced at her. "You seem to know a lot about being broken."
"I do," she said quietly. "I also know it doesn't make you weak. Just careful."
Rui looked back at the water.
"Why did they burn the girl?"
Yan Zhi's lips thinned. "She was a witness."
He closed his eyes. "And I'm a threat."
"You're a weapon."
---
They sat in silence.
Until a voice echoed through the forest.
A voice Rui hadn't heard in weeks.
"Disciple Shen Rui," the voice said mockingly. "The sect would like a word."
Rui stood instantly, heart slamming into his ribs.
He knew that voice.
Jiang Fei.
His former master.
He stepped from the trees, robe crisp, expression unreadable.
No guards.
No monks.
Just him.
"You're alive," Rui said coldly.
"You're unstable," Jiang replied. "The Dragon Pulse has made you reckless."
"You left me to die."
"I spared the sect."
"You lied to me for ten years!"
Jiang stepped forward. "And yet, here I am. Offering you a choice."
Rui stared. "What choice?"
Jiang held up a black scroll.
"Return to the Azure Dragon Sect. Kneel. Seal the pulse. And you will be forgiven."
"And if I don't?"
Jiang unrolled the scroll.
A seal glowed red.
And behind him, the forest caught fire.
"Then," Jiang said with a smile, "we will hunt every village you hide in—until there's nowhere left for the dragon to run."