The shadow's roar still reverberated through the valley when the stranger unsheathed his sword. Silver light burst from the blade, tearing the mist as if ripping apart the fabric of night itself. The entire river seemed to flinch at the sound, its red froth momentarily retreating as though unwilling to touch that steel.
Li Yan staggered to her feet, clutching her chest. The fire in her veins burned hotter, searing her blood with every heartbeat. Her vision split—half the world bathed in crimson haze, half in pale silver light from the stranger's sword. She didn't know which to trust.
The shadow loomed higher, its form neither solid nor formless. It was a mountain of darkness, shaped from screams, draped in hatred. Its two burning eyes fixed upon her as though the stranger didn't exist. The voice slithered across her mind.
"Daughter… abandon the pretender. Your blood calls you. Come, inherit what was denied."
Her knees buckled. It felt as though invisible hands gripped her ribs, tugging her toward the fog. She wanted to scream, to resist, but the fire inside her throbbed in sync with that call.
The stranger's grip tightened on her arm. His voice was sharp, commanding."Li Yan! Listen to me. That thing is no father, no savior. It is corruption itself!"
"Then why… why does it feel like a part of me?" she whispered.
For the briefest second, sorrow flashed across his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by iron resolve. He raised his sword and slashed the air. Silver arcs burst outward, weaving into a barrier of light that cut between her and the fog. The screams of the shadow grew shrill, enraged, but it did not step forward.
The runes along his blade flared, and for the first time Li Yan saw them clearly—ancient characters, looping in patterns older than language. They pulsed in rhythm with the stranger's heartbeat, and faint traces of qi—the spiritual energy only cultivators could command—drifted into the night air like stardust.
"Who… who are you?" she asked, trembling.
The stranger did not answer. His focus was locked on the abomination before them. The shadow spread its arms wide, and the valley quaked. Trees snapped like twigs. The river swelled, spilling its crimson flood across the banks. From within the mist, smaller shapes began to crawl—figures twisted and broken, their faces etched with agony. They dragged themselves across the soil, whispering Li Yan's name.
Her heart nearly burst. These were not strangers. She recognized them.
The baker's wife who had died of fever when Yan was a child. The old shepherd struck down by lightning. Even the boy who had mocked her years ago, whose corpse she herself had seen buried. Their hollow eyes reached for her with desperate longing.
"No… no, this can't be real," she stammered, clutching her head.
"It's illusion," the stranger barked. "The shadow feeds on memory. Do not look!"
But she couldn't tear her eyes away. Tears blurred her sight. The fire in her blood surged, pulling her toward those familiar faces. For the first time in years, they were not cursing her, not whispering behind her back—they were calling her name, reaching for her, as though she belonged.
"Li Yan!"
The stranger's voice cracked like thunder. His sword swept forward, cleaving one of the crawling figures. It dissolved into smoke with a scream that rattled the bones. The others recoiled, but the shadow roared again, and more rose from the mist.
The valley became a battlefield.
The stranger moved with lethal grace, his blade a ribbon of silver light that cut through phantom after phantom. Each strike scattered them into nothing, yet for every one destroyed, two more clawed out of the fog. Sweat gleamed on his brow, though his eyes never wavered.
Li Yan stood frozen, her body trembling violently. Inside her chest, the fire became unbearable. It was no longer a beast clawing to escape—it was a tidal wave demanding release. Her nails dug into her palms until blood flowed.
The shadow's voice filled her skull."Yes… unleash it. The sword cannot save you. Only I can. Give yourself, and they will never hurt you again."
The stranger snarled, as though hearing the same voice. He struck his blade into the soil, and a dome of silver light expanded outward, forcing the crawling shades to stumble back. The air hummed with energy, and for the first time, Li Yan saw the scope of true cultivation. This was no village superstition—this was power carved from heaven and earth.
And yet, even the barrier shook under the shadow's rage.
"Yan!" His gaze snapped to hers, fierce and unyielding. "Listen to me. That blood inside you is dangerous, yes—but it does not define you. What matters is how you choose to wield it!"
Her breath hitched. Could it be true? Could she control the fire, instead of it controlling her?
The dome cracked. Red mist bled through.
Without warning, the shadow lunged. A colossal arm of darkness slammed against the barrier, shattering it like glass. The stranger flew backward, blood spraying from his lips, his sword barely clutched in his hand.
Li Yan screamed. Instinct overtook her. She thrust out her palms.
The fire inside her erupted.
Crimson flames burst from her skin, coiling into serpents of light. They tore through the mist, devouring the crawling phantoms in a storm of shrieks. The shadow itself reeled, its massive form twisting as if struck by an unseen hand.
For one glorious heartbeat, Li Yan felt… powerful. Free.
But then came the hunger.
Her flames did not fade. They spread, licking the trees, the soil, even the silver runes etched upon the stranger's blade. The energy within her demanded more—more fuel, more blood, more life.
"Stop!" The stranger's voice was hoarse, desperate. "Pull it back, or it will consume you!"
"I… I can't!" She fell to her knees, clutching her chest as the crimson fire devoured everything. Her vision blurred red. The shadow's laughter thundered through her skull.
"Yes… let it burn. Let the world bow before our blood."
The stranger staggered to his feet, raising his sword despite his wounds. The runes along its surface dimmed, nearly extinguished, yet he forced the blade toward her.
"I'm sorry, Li Yan," he whispered. "If you cannot control it… then I must end it before it ends us all."
Her eyes widened, tears streaming down her face. "You'd kill me?"
His sword trembled, but his gaze held steady. "Better one life lost than a thousand."
The crimson fire screamed within her veins, a beast neither tamed nor chained. She could feel it—if she released it fully, the shadow would vanish, the valley itself might survive… but at the cost of everything she was.
The stranger's blade lifted higher.
And the shadow's laughter grew louder, filling the night.