The road east bent away from mountains and rivers into a land that seemed forgotten by Heaven itself. The Borderlands.
Once, long ago, these plains had been the breadbasket of the southern kingdoms, rich with wheat and millet, flocks of sheep and cattle grazing under open skies. Now they stretched bare and cracked, villages abandoned or smoldering. The wind carried only the cries of carrion crows.
Chen Feng walked in silence among his Brothers. For days they had passed burnt homesteads, toppled shrines, fields salted by raiders. His young heart had hardened with each mile. He had thought Yun Valley's tragedy was unique, but here every step revealed it was only one wound in a body riddled with scars.
"They do not just poison rivers," Zhao Ming muttered, his scholar's eyes grim. "They starve the earth itself."
"The Lotus Sect thrives where hope dies," Wu Zhen intoned. "A starving man is easily bent to darkness."
The Brothers pressed onward.
By the third evening, they reached the town of Jiuyuan or what remained of it. Once fortified by thick wooden walls, the palisades now lay in splinters. The streets stank of blood. Shops were gutted, doors torn from hinges, bodies left to rot where they fell.
Chen Feng's breath caught. He had seen slaughter before, but Jiuyuan was not burned in anger. It had been harvested. Women, children, even animals had been neatly lined and cut down, as if in some grotesque ritual.
Luo Yan crouched by a corpse, brushing dirt from its skin. The body's chest bore the carved lotus symbol. His eyes narrowed. "They mark even the dead. A warning, or a prayer."
"Not prayer," Shen Kuan corrected, pale beneath his hood. "Fuel. Their blood feeds the same net we saw at the shrine."
Chen Feng clenched his fists. His sword begged to be drawn, but against who? The killers were gone, shadows fleeing deeper into the Borderlands.
"Stay sharp," Li Heng ordered. "Where there are corpses, scavengers follow and not just beasts."
As if summoned by his words, the sound of hoofbeats rose beyond the walls. A dust cloud rolled toward the ruined gates. At its head rode a band of men in patchwork armor, crimson rags tied to their spears. Bandits but too disciplined, too many.
Their leader, a scarred brute with a bronze helm, raised his axe high and shouted, "Looters in Jiuyuan? Then the spoils are ours!"
The warband charged.
The Ten Brothers moved as one.
Guo Tian strode to the front, hammer swinging in arcs that shattered spears like twigs. Luo Yan's blade flashed, each strike felling a rider before he could cry out. Feng Wuyue loosed arrow after arrow, each finding an eye or throat even through the chaos.
Zhou Ke vanished into shadow, reappearing behind the enemy commander to slash at his tendons. Shen Kuan scattered vials that burst into choking smoke, breaking the charge into confusion. Zhao Ming, standing behind them all, scrawled quick sigils upon slips of paper, tossing them into the air explosions rocked the gate as talismans ignited.
Wu Zhen's chants rose, steady and calm amid blood. His staff struck down those who strayed near, his voice anchoring the Brothers' hearts.
And Li Heng was everywhere, his sword a blur, his orders sharp as steel.
But it was Chen Feng who drew the eyes of Jiuyuan's dead.
He leapt into the fray with a cry, blade flashing. His training under Luo Yan and Guo Tian burned through his body speed, strength, fire in every strike. He cut down one rider, then another, moving with reckless fury.
"Chen Feng!" Li Heng barked. "Hold your line!"
But the boy surged forward, driving deeper, chasing the bandit leader. He could not stop himself every face of every dead villager screamed for justice in his mind.
The bronze-helmed brute wheeled his horse, sneering. His axe came down like a falling tree. Chen Feng barely caught it on his sword, the impact rattling his bones.
"Little whelp," the man snarled. "I'll crack you in two!"
The axe rose again but before it fell, Luo Yan was there, blade sliding across the man's throat. Blood sprayed. The leader toppled from his horse, gurgling.
Chen Feng staggered back, panting. His brothers closed in around him, finishing the fight. The remaining bandits broke and fled into the plains.
Silence fell over Jiuyuan once more, broken only by the moans of the dying.
Li Heng turned on Chen Feng, eyes hard as stone.
"You broke formation. You disobeyed my order. Do you think battle is won by charging like a rabid dog?"
Chen Feng's face flushed. He wanted to shout that he had to fight, that he could not stand idle. But his words died under Li Heng's gaze.
"I" he began, but his voice faltered.
Wu Zhen placed a hand between them. "He is young. Fire must be tempered, not snuffed. Let him learn."
Li Heng's frown deepened, but he said no more.
Chen Feng bowed his head, shame burning hotter than his wounds. Yet deep inside, a voice whispered: You are strong enough. Why follow when you could lead?
He clenched his fists. Not revenge, not yet but neither would he remain a child forever.
That night, they searched Jiuyuan for survivors. Amidst the ruins, a girl no older than ten stumbled from hiding, her face streaked with soot. She clutched a bundle of cloth to her chest.
Inside the bundle was not a doll, but a scrap of crimson silk embroidered with the lotus sigil.
"They made us carry these," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Said if we did not, they would burn us alive. They said the Lotus is the new Heaven."
Wu Zhen's hands shook as he took the cloth. "Blasphemy."
Zhao Ming studied it. "No. Propaganda. They brand fear into the hearts of the living. Each survivor becomes their herald."
Chen Feng knelt before the girl, speaking gently. "You're safe now. We will protect you."
Her wide, hollow eyes fixed on him. "Will you? Or will you die like the others?"
Her words cut him deeper than any blade.
At dawn, the Brothers buried Jiuyuan's dead. The girl remained with them, refusing to leave. She said nothing, only clutching the crimson cloth as if it were a curse she could not throw away.
As they departed, Chen Feng looked back one last time at the ruined town. He thought of his mother, of Hanxi, of all the villages still waiting to fall.
The Borderlands were a wound bleeding into the earth, and the Crimson Lotus fed on every drop.
The Brothers pressed on, but in Chen Feng's heart a new fire sparked not of vengeance, but of resolve. He would not be the boy who chased blindly. He would become the man who could stand in the fire and not break.
The plains stretched empty for three more days, but no emptiness lasts in the Borderlands. The emptiness is only silence before the storm.
On the fourth morning, as the Brothers camped in a hollow beside the ruins of an old watchtower, riders appeared on the horizon. Not bandits this time soldiers.
Their banners were tattered, but the mark upon them was clear a black serpent coiled around a broken spear. The emblem of the Black Viper Company, mercenaries infamous throughout the southern kingdoms.
"Mercenaries," Zhou Ke spat. "Paid killers, loyal to whoever fills their purse."
"Or," Zhao Ming corrected, "whoever terrifies them enough to fight for free."
The riders halted a stone's throw away. Their commander, a lean man with hawk-like eyes and armor lacquered black, raised a hand in salute.
"I am Captain Jiao Ren of the Black Vipers," he called. His voice carried across the plains, calm and steady. "I know who you are. The Ten Brothers. The Crimson Lotus has put a price on your heads that could buy a kingdom."
The air thickened.
Guo Tian gripped his hammer. "Then come try and take it."
But the captain only smiled faintly. "Not today. I am no fool. My company numbers a thousand. You are ten. To strike here would be costly for us both. Better to speak."
Li Heng stepped forward, his sword at his side but his stance unyielding. "Then speak quickly. What does the Lotus pay mercenaries to murder peasants and poison rivers?"
Jiao Ren's gaze hardened. "We fight where the tide turns. The Lotus are not a sect now they are a movement. Kings rot upon their thrones while people starve. Armies betray their masters. The Lotus offers order, purpose. And yes, gold. Why should we refuse?"
Wu Zhen's voice rumbled low. "Order built on corpses is no order at all."
The mercenary captain shrugged. "Perhaps. But corpses already fill these lands, and my men will eat whether Heaven smiles or not. Tell me, Brothers, what can you offer? What do you stand for, beyond wandering and striking at shadows?"
The question hung like a blade.
Chen Feng felt the sting of it more than the others. He had thought of vengeance, of honor, of fire but what did they truly fight for? What could they give to the starving, the broken?
Li Heng answered, voice steady as steel. "We offer nothing but truth. The Lotus does not seek order, but dominion. They spread rot, not life. If you kneel to them, you will not eat you will be eaten."
Jiao Ren studied him, then gave a slow nod. "Perhaps. But I am not a zealot. I am a man who weighs risk and reward. For now, my coin lies with the Lotus. When the tide turns, perhaps it will not. Until then, do not cross our path."
He raised his hand. The Black Vipers wheeled as one and rode away, their banners trailing dust.
Chen Feng exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. Yet the captain's words gnawed at him. What do we stand for?
That night, the Brothers sat around their fire. The girl from Jiuyuan slept nearby, wrapped in Shen Kuan's cloak.
"They will come for us again," Luo Yan said flatly. "Mercenaries, assassins, whole armies. The Lotus grows fat while kingdoms look away."
"Worse," Zhao Ming murmured, sketching on parchment. "The formation we saw… it may already stretch across half the Borderlands. If they complete it, they won't need soldiers. Heaven itself may shatter."
Wu Zhen's staff tapped the earth. "We must strike at the center. The shrine we destroyed was only a knot we must find the heart."
Chen Feng listened, fists tight. His mind replayed Jiao Ren's words: What do you stand for?
Finally, he spoke. "Then we show the people that the Lotus can bleed. We fight not only to destroy shrines, but to give hope. If the Borderlands believe only in fear, the Lotus has already won. We must be more than swords. We must be a fire."
The Brothers turned toward him. For once, no one laughed.
Li Heng's gaze lingered longest. At last, he said, "Words are easy. Fire burns bright, but also consumes. Can you carry such weight, boy?"
Chen Feng met his eyes. "I can try. If not me, then who?"
Silence stretched. Then Wu Zhen nodded slowly. "A seed of wisdom. Perhaps Heaven has chosen well."
Li Heng said nothing more.
Days later, their resolve was tested.
They reached the outpost of Shanzhou, a walled village straddling the trade road. Smoke rose above it, but not of fire of cooking. Life remained here.
But as they entered, the truth became clear. The gates bore the lotus sigil. Men in mismatched armor lounged at posts, spears in hand. Inside, the people moved like ghosts, eyes downcast, crimson rags tied around their arms.
A shrine stood at the village square, its brazier burning that same blood-red flame. Villagers approached one by one, dropping offerings of grain and coin. Guards watched, spears ready for any who hesitated.
"The Lotus taxes not with silver, but with souls," Wu Zhen murmured.
Li Heng's hand twitched toward his sword. But Chen Feng stepped forward first.
"No," he whispered. "Not yet. If we cut down their guards, more will come. We must show the people the flame can die and not bring ruin upon them in return."
The Brothers looked at him, surprise in their eyes.
Then Luo Yan smirked faintly. "The boy learns."
That night, under shadow, Zhou Ke led Chen Feng to the shrine. Together they crept past guards, silent as smoke. Chen Feng's heart pounded, but his training held.
At the brazier, the whispers rose again, tempting, hungry. His sword trembled in his grip.
Take me. Burn them. Burn them all.
He pressed the blade to the flame but this time, he did not fight alone.
Zhou Ke's hand rested on his shoulder. Wu Zhen's chants echoed in his memory. Guo Tian's laughter, Luo Yan's steel, Li Heng's piercing eyes all stood with him in spirit.
He drove the sword down. The flame shrieked and died.
The brazier cracked. The whispers fled.
A breathless silence fell.
And then, from the shadows, villagers stepped forward. They had seen. They had watched.
A murmur spread: "The flame is gone the Lotus can be broken"
For the first time in years, Shanzhou's people raised their heads.
By dawn, the Brothers had slipped away, leaving no trace but hope in the hearts of the villagers.
Chen Feng walked among them, weary but burning. His brothers said nothing, but the pride in their eyes was louder than words.
He had not only fought. He had led.
Yet even as the sun rose over the Borderlands, he knew the road ahead would darken. The Crimson Lotus had seen their shrine fall, and they would not forgive.
The Brothers had little time to savor victory at Shanzhou. By the third day of travel, smoke rose again on the horizon not from homes, but from signal fires.
"The Black Vipers," Luo Yan said grimly, watching the plumes form a chain across the plains. "They hunt us."
"They want to draw us into the open," Zhao Ming muttered. "Force us to choose between retreat and slaughter."
Li Heng's eyes narrowed. "We move east regardless. The Borderlands must be crossed. But when the trap closes, we break it, not flee."
Chen Feng's pulse quickened. This was no raid or shrine-guard. This was an army.
By dusk, the trap was sprung.
The Ten Brothers crested a ridge overlooking a ravine. Below, hundreds of mercenaries swarmed like ants, the Black Viper Company encamped in tight ranks. Spears glinted, banners whipped, war drums thundered.
And in the center, upon a raised platform, sat Captain Jiao Ren, calm as a falcon, sipping wine. His voice carried up the slope.
"Brothers! You knew this would come. You strike shrines, cut down my men, meddle in affairs beyond your reach. The Lotus commands your deaths and the Vipers obey."
He raised his cup. "But I am not without honor. Yield now, lay down your arms, and perhaps I will grant you chains instead of graves."
Guo Tian spat. "I'd sooner choke you with those chains."
The Vipers roared in laughter, war drums beating louder.
Li Heng drew his sword, eyes like winter steel. "Brothers. We carve a path through. Strike the head, and the body dies."
The Nine nodded. But Chen Feng froze. His gaze swept the camp. Hundreds of mercenaries, more than the Brothers had ever faced at once.
And yet… he remembered Shanzhou. He remembered the villagers watching the flame die, the spark of hope that had followed. If they fell here, the Lotus's shadow would swallow that spark.
"No," Chen Feng said suddenly.
All turned to him.
"We cannot just cut our way through. We'll be buried under their numbers. We need more than swords we need a plan."
Li Heng's eyes narrowed. "Then speak."
Chen Feng's heart pounded. He pointed to the ridgeline. "The ravine funnels their numbers. If we strike the drums first, we break their rhythm. Guo Tian, collapse the cliff with your hammer cut their ranks in half. Luo Yan and I take their flank, drive at Jiao Ren. Feng Wuyue rains arrows from above. Zhou Ke, shadows behind their lines. Zhao Ming, your talismans target their supplies. Shen Kuan, smoke to scatter them. Wu Zhen, keep us steady."
Silence hung heavy.
Then Luo Yan's lips curved in a rare smile. "The boy has learned to think."
Wu Zhen nodded. "A plan is not certainty, but it is a beginning."
Li Heng studied Chen Feng for a long breath. Then he spoke. "Very well. Brothers follow the Tenth."
The drums thundered. The Vipers surged into the ravine.
Guo Tian roared, his hammer smashing into stone. The cliff groaned, then collapsed, burying scores of mercenaries in dust and rubble. Their formation buckled.
Feng Wuyue's arrows fell like rain, piercing throats and eyes, sowing panic.
Zhou Ke slipped into shadows, reappearing amidst the supply carts. A torch tossed, a blade drawn fire erupted, devouring grain and tents.
Zhao Ming's talismans flashed, exploding against the drum line. The thunder faltered, soldiers stumbling without rhythm.
Shen Kuan's smoke bombs burst, choking, blinding, breaking the Vipers' cohesion.
Through the chaos, Chen Feng and Luo Yan carved the flank. Chen Feng's blade burned, each strike sharper, surer than ever. The mercenaries fell back, shocked by his ferocity.
And there the platform, Jiao Ren still seated, watching calmly as the battle shifted.
"Now!" Chen Feng shouted.
They charged.
Jiao Ren rose at last, drawing twin sabers. His eyes glinted like steel.
"So. The cub thinks himself a lion."
He moved like lightning, blades whirling in arcs that split the air. Luo Yan met him strike for strike, sparks flying as sword clashed with saber. Chen Feng darted in, his blade cutting at openings only to be parried by the captain's uncanny reflexes.
"Not bad," Jiao Ren sneered. "But fire without discipline burns itself first."
His sabers struck in a whirlwind. Chen Feng staggered, blade barely holding. He felt himself slipping until Luo Yan's voice barked, "Breathe! Flow, don't force!"
He remembered. The lessons, the drills, the scars. He let the strikes come, stepping where they sought to crush him, his blade meeting at angles, not brute force.
The fire within steadied.
He struck back.
Steel pierced flesh. Jiao Ren hissed, blood blooming across his side. For the first time, his composure cracked.
"You" he snarled, lunging.
But Luo Yan's sword was faster, cutting across his chest. Chen Feng followed, his blade driving through the mercenary's guard, biting deep.
Jiao Ren fell to his knees, eyes blazing even as life fled. "The Lotus… will drown you… all."
He collapsed, his sabers clattering into dust.
The Black Vipers froze. Their captain was dead, their camp burning, their drums silenced. Fear rippled through their ranks. Then, one by one, they broke. The ravine filled with fleeing men, abandoning banners, leaving only ash and ruin.
The Ten stood amidst the wreckage, battered but unbroken.
Chen Feng's chest heaved. His sword dripped blood, his body shook, but his spirit burned brighter than ever. He had not only fought he had led.
Li Heng approached, eyes unreadable. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he placed a hand on Chen Feng's shoulder.
"You are no longer a boy chasing shadows," he said softly. "You are one of us."
Chen Feng's throat tightened. He bowed his head, whispering, "I will not fail you."
Wu Zhen raised his staff, voice carrying across the bloodied ravine. "The Borderlands have seen their dawn. Let the Lotus know: the fire spreads."
The Brothers raised their weapons high. The sun broke the horizon, spilling light across the battlefield.