The door didn't just open; it gave a sharp, metallic snap that cut through the silence like a gunshot. Instinct hit Lin Wei before his brain even fully processed the sound. His limbs felt like lead from the arena fight, and the internal warmth of the phoenix flames was currently nothing more than a dying ember in his gut. He had only been horizontal for a few minutes, the jade heir token on his chest still humming against his skin, when the world decided it wasn't done with him yet.
He stayed perfectly still. He didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't even open his eyes. Instead, he forced his breathing into a heavy, rhythmic slump, masking the way his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his ribs. He heard the whisper of leather on stone—two sets of footsteps, light as feathers.
Lin Tian's guards were supposed to be outside. How did these two walk through the front door?
The room was thick with the leftover smells of his day: ozone from summoned fire and the copper tang of blood. But as the figures drew closer, a new scent arrived—bitter, like rotted almonds and rusted iron. Poison.
The first shadow loomed over the bed. In the flickering candlelight, a curved blade caught a glint of orange. It was dripping. A dark, oily substance hissed as a single drop hit the stone floor, eating into the rock. Lin Wei didn't wait for the plunge. Drawing on the frantic "VR-sim" reflexes he'd honed back on Terranova, he threw himself into a lateral roll.
The mattress groaned as the dagger buried itself exactly where his windpipe had been a second earlier.
"Awake!" a voice hissed—thin, reedy, and full of panic.
Lin Wei didn't give them time to regroup. He snapped his fingers, and the phoenix flames didn't just flicker; they roared. A wall of white-hot fire erupted from his palm, singeing the air and sending the smell of burning silk through the room. The second assassin, caught off guard, shrieked as his cloak turned into a funeral pyre. He fell back, clawing at his hood, revealing a face mapped in jagged scars.
The primary attacker was a professional, though. He glided around the bed, drawing a second blade. "Orders are orders," the man growled, his voice sounding like grinding gravel. "The bloodline ends. The phoenix is done."
He lunged. Lin Wei dropped into a low crouch, but he wasn't fast enough. A blade whistled through the fire, biting into his shoulder. It was a shallow nick, but the effect was immediate. A freezing, numbing chill raced from the wound toward his heart. The phoenix energy flared, cauterizing the cut with a hiss of steam, but the toxin was stubborn. It felt like ice water in his veins.
I can't let this drag on, Lin Wei thought, his vision blurring slightly.
He spotted a water basin near the bed and kicked it with everything he had. The water hit the flame-wreathed second assassin, creating a sudden, blinding explosion of steam. Under the cover of the mist, Lin Wei went on the offensive. He channeled every ounce of his remaining Qi into his right fist, turning his hand into a miniature sun. He drove it forward, slamming it into the first assassin's chest.
There was a sickening crunch of ribs and the smell of burning wool.
Lin Wei scrambled up, grabbing the man by his damp, clammy throat. He pinned him against the wall, the heat from his hand making the assassin's skin blister.
"Who sent you?" Lin Wei growled, his voice raw with adrenaline. "Talk, or I'll burn you from the inside out."
The assassin's teeth were stained red, but he started to laugh—a wet, bubbling sound. "Lin Han... sends his regards. You're a ghost, boy. The true heir is—"
The man never finished. A sudden convulsion racked his body, and black foam erupted from his lips. He had a "suicide pill" or a trigger in the poison. Within seconds, his eyes rolled back, leaving Lin Wei holding a heavy, lifeless husk.
The door finally burst open, the Lin Clan guards charging in with steel drawn and faces pale. Lin Wei stood in the center of the charred room, his shoulder aching and his hands still trembling. He looked at the jade token on his chest—it was pulsing a deep, angry crimson.
"Clean this up," Lin Wei commanded, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "And get my father. Now."
He sat on the edge of the ruined bed, watching the blue system text flicker at the edge of his vision.
[Quest Progress: 40%. Shadow Cult Active. Gather proof before dawn.]
The heat in his chest was fading, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. They had tried to kill him in his sleep. They wouldn't get a second chance.