The courtyard lay silent beneath the pale moonlight. Wind whispered against the stone tiles, carrying with it the taste of rain yet to fall.
Feng Xieyun sat cross-legged, his spear across his knees. His breaths were shallow, ragged. The headache had returned—the kind that wasn't merely pain, but chains grinding against his very soul.
He pressed his fingers to his temples. "Not… again…"
The System's cold voice throbbed inside his mind.
> [Warning: Host's soul resonance is unstable.]
[Do not resist. Submit. Accept the hatred. Only hatred brings strength.]
Each word tightened the vice around his skull. Sweat ran down his cheek. For a moment, he thought he might collapse.
And then—he felt it.
A ripple of killing intent, sharp as a blade.
He opened his eyes just as the shadows moved. Figures in black emerged, silent, masked, the insignia of the Lin Clan glinting faintly on their armor.
Xieyun rose unsteadily, his hand closing around his spear. Blood pounded in his ears. "The Lin Clan… they've sent their hounds."
The leader's voice was calm, stripped of all humanity. "You should not exist. Tonight, your bloodline ends."
They attacked.
Steel sang in the night. Shadows closed in, swift and precise. Xieyun's body reacted before his thoughts could catch up—spear flashing, parrying, spinning. Sparks burst where weapons clashed, but every movement sent fire ripping through his skull.
The headache deepened. His vision split.
… Flames swallowing glass towers.
… Greedy faces in a boardroom.
… His own body burning.
He gasped, staggering back. What are these…?
Another image cut through the fire.
A silhouette—a woman standing amid chaos, her hair flowing like threads of starlight, her eyes carrying sorrow older than time.
Her voice brushed against his soul, gentle and aching.
"Yu… do not let the darkness claim you."
His chest tightened.
Steel whistled toward his heart. He jerked aside, the blade slicing across his arm. Hot blood spilled, but his spear lashed out, piercing an assassin's throat.
The System roared, its voice sharp as chains.
> [Reject the illusion. Phantom interference detected. Hatred is truth. Hatred is power.]
But her voice returned, soft yet unyielding:
"Even if you forget me… I will not forget you."
Something within him cracked. His movements grew wilder, fiercer. He fought like a beast cornered against death itself. His spear tore through the night, scattering shadows with blood.
Still, the assassins pressed harder. The leader stepped forward, his sword art merciless. One blow cut deep into Xieyun's side. He coughed blood, vision swimming.
"Die," the assassin hissed.
The world froze.
Silver light flared in Xieyun's eyes. Behind him, faint as mist, the woman's silhouette appeared—her hair like rivers of stars, her gaze filled with sorrow.
For a single breath, divinity touched the mortal realm.
The assassins froze. Their blades shook. One whispered, "That presence… impossible…"
"Retreat!" the leader barked, fear cutting his words.
In a blur, they vanished into the night, leaving behind only corpses and crimson stains.
Silence descended once more.
Xieyun dropped to one knee, clutching his wound, chest heaving. The silver glow faded from his eyes, but the ache in his chest lingered—an ache that had nothing to do with his injuries.
"Who… was that?" His whisper vanished into the night.
The System hissed coldly.
> [Warning. Interference persists.]
[Submit. Hatred is eternal.]
He ignored it. He could still feel the weight of her gaze in his soul, sorrowful yet familiar.
He staggered to his feet, bloodied but unbowed. His hands trembled around his spear, yet his eyes held fire.
"The Lin Clan…" His voice was hoarse, but steady. "If you want my life, come and take it yourselves."
The moon shone pale over the blood-stained courtyard, bearing silent witness to his defiance.
Somewhere deep inside, a chain shattered.
And though he did not yet understand her, the woman's fading voice lingered.
"Yu… wait for me...