The ruined village was silent, save for the faint hiss of smoldering embers. Ash drifted through the air like pale snow, clinging to charred timbers and broken stones. The stench of burnt flesh turned the stomach, and the once vibrant fields that had sustained the villagers lay trampled into mud and blood.
Luo Tian stood at the edge of the carnage, his fists trembling at his sides. His body still ached from the last battle, wounds poorly healed, but his fury dulled the pain. His eyes, usually calm and sharp, now blazed like a forge threatening to burst.
Beside him, Mei Yue pressed her sleeve against her mouth, trying to block the smell. Her steps faltered as she recognized the remnants of familiar homes. She had traded herbs here. She had laughed with the wives who sold dried fish and rice. Now those same walls were collapsed, their families nothing but ash.
"Luo Tian…" her voice quivered, barely audible over the oppressive silence. "Why? Why would they do this? These people had nothing to do with us…"
"They had everything to do with us." His tone was low, harsh. "They refused to betray me. And for that, the sect punished them."
He knelt, brushing his hand against the scorched wall of a home. Beneath the char, he traced the mark carved deep into the wood: the jagged sigil of the sect. It mocked him, carved like a brand of ownership, as though declaring, This is the fate of those who defy us.
Luo Tian's jaw tightened. "This is not just about me. This is their rule, Mei Yue. Anyone who resists their chains is condemned to burn."
As they searched the ruins, a faint sound reached Luo Tian's ears. A ragged breath. A cough.
"Someone's alive." He hurried toward the collapsed beams of a house, ignoring the stab of pain in his ribs. Shoving aside debris with trembling strength, he uncovered a small form: a boy, no older than ten, half-buried beneath charred planks. His face was streaked with soot, his body marred by burns, yet his chest still rose in shallow gasps.
Mei Yue dropped to her knees, pressing her hands to the child's skin. "He's burning with fever. We need water, herbs—"
But the boy's hand twitched, clutching at Luo Tian's sleeve with surprising force. His lips moved, cracked and dry.
"They… they came… for you." His voice was no louder than a whisper.
Luo Tian froze.
The boy's eyes rolled, but he forced the words out, each syllable tearing through his scorched throat. "They asked… where the stray was. We… we didn't know. They didn't believe us. They said… all children would be taken. The rest…" His words trailed into a sob that shook his frail chest.
Mei Yue's face went pale. "Taken? What do they want with the children?"
The boy coughed, blood flecking his lips. "To… to train them. Break them. Or sell them. I don't know. Please… please stop them…" His grip tightened once more before it weakened.
"Save your strength," Mei Yue urged, tears spilling down her cheeks. She pressed crushed herbs against his wounds, but even she knew it was futile. The boy's spirit flickered like a candle in the wind.
Luo Tian leaned close, his voice firm though his heart ached. "I will stop them. I swear it."
The boy's lips curved faintly, as though comforted by those words. His chest rose once, twice more… then stilled.
Mei Yue let out a choked sob, covering her mouth with her hand. Her body shook with helpless grief.
Luo Tian lowered the boy gently to the ground, closing his eyes with a trembling hand. For a long moment, he remained kneeling in the ashes, silent.
Then he spoke, his voice low but carrying a weight that seemed to press upon the very air.
"I swear… by the threads of my soul, by the blood in my veins… I will tear the sect down. For every village they burn, for every child they steal, for every life they crush beneath their heel—I will repay them a thousandfold. Until nothing remains but dust and echoes."
Ling Xi materialized nearby, her expression unreadable. Her silver eyes regarded him with a strange mixture of caution and respect.
"Hatred can forge steel," she said quietly. "But it can also shatter it. Walk carefully, boy. The path you vow to tread is one lined with corpses—not only your enemies', but perhaps your own."
Luo Tian's gaze did not waver. "Then let it be lined with corpses. So long as they are not the innocent."
Ling Xi's lips pressed into a thin line. She said no more.
That evening, Luo Tian and Mei Yue worked in silence. They dug shallow graves in the hardened earth, their hands blistered, their bodies aching. For hours, they buried what remained of the villagers—men, women, and elders—while the forest grew darker around them.
When they laid the boy to rest, Mei Yue's tears fell freely. Her hands lingered on the fresh mound of soil, fingers curling into the dirt as though she could hold him here.
Finally, she turned to Luo Tian. Her eyes were red, her voice raw, but her expression carried a new resolve.
"I'll stay with you," she whispered. "Even if I'm afraid. Even if the road ahead is nothing but blood and ash. I'll walk beside you."
Luo Tian's breath caught. He looked at her, this fragile yet unyielding girl who had already lost so much, and something within him shifted. The world had tried to break her, yet she chose to stand with him still.
He nodded slowly. "Then we'll walk it together."
Far away, within a sect encampment, Wei Chen sharpened his blade. Sparks flew as steel met stone, the sound sharp and grating in the still night.
Before him knelt a trembling villager, bruised and bloodied.
"Tell me again," Wei Chen said, his tone light, almost conversational. "Where did the boy go?"
The villager sobbed, words tumbling from broken lips. "He—he fled north! Into the deep forest! Please, I don't know more—"
Wei Chen's smile was cruel. "Of course you don't." He rose in one fluid motion, his blade flashing. The man's plea ended in silence.
Wei Chen wiped the blade clean, his smirk widening. "So the Loom's stray runs north. Good. It will give me the pleasure of hunting him longer. And when I catch him, I'll drag him back broken."
Around him, a dozen inner disciples bowed, their faces pale with both respect and fear. Wei Chen's cruelty was legend among them. His ambition was sharper than his sword, and his hunger for glory endless.
Luo Tian, to him, was nothing more than a stepping stone.
Back at the graves, Luo Tian stood before the last mound of earth. His hands were raw from digging, his nails torn, but he did not feel the pain. The golden brand on his chest pulsed softly, threads of faint light flickering around him like fireflies.
He stared at the graves until the moon rose high, casting silver light upon the ruins.
"Mei Yue," he said softly, "I will not ask you to swear what I have. But know this—I will not stop. Not until the sect lies shattered. Even if heaven itself blocks my path, I will cut it down."
Mei Yue stepped closer, her small hand slipping into his. Her grip was warm despite the chill. "Then I'll share that burden with you."
The words settled over him like a promise, binding them together beneath the silent sky.
As the night deepened, Luo Tian felt the Loom's threads stir faintly once more, brushing against his soul like whispers of the future. Power slept within him, waiting for the moment it would awaken.
And when it did, the sect would tremble.