Tianhun and Lu Zhenhai could not pursue Lu Heng and Jiang Wuyu immediately; they would have to track them down after retrieving Xie Lang. Before that, Tianhun forced them to swear an oath with strict conditions—Xie Lang was not to be placed in any dangerous situation. This meant they could not take him to the clan, as Wuyu's plans would endanger countless lives, including the boy's. Wuyu would have to release Xie Lang before reaching his clan, leaving enough distance for the boy to escape without being caught. If Lu Heng took him instead, he too would be bound to release the boy in a safe location, far enough for Xie Lang to return unharmed.
The oath's duration was set to one hour on their part—within that time, they were safe from Tianhun's hand. However, Xie Lang had to be freed before the hour ended; otherwise, the oath would shatter and the violators would die instantly. Beyond that, they were forbidden from attacking, pursuing, injuring, or ordering anyone else to harm Xie Lang for an entire day.
In short, Xie Lang would be untouchable for a day, but Lu Heng and Jiang Wuyu would only enjoy one hour of protection. And if they survived beyond that, Tianhun swore he would personally march to Wuyu's clan and wipe it from existence for its demonic crimes.
Tianhun then said, 'We will take everyone here in for questioning. In the meantime, we'll notify the empire of what happened. But we must keep the sects unaware of this—I don't want those meddling fools even thinking about the demonic corpse. I will destroy it, along with those two, myself.'
He spoke as if the connection between one of those two and his own friend's brother meant nothing at all. Yet Lu Zhenhai didn't blame him. He had seen for himself what demonic cultivators could do—just once—and that had been more than enough to make him despise them with every fiber of his being.
Tianhun was an ex-general of the empire. A man like him had likely seen horrors far worse than anything Zhenhai could imagine. But even so, a knot of grief tightened in Zhenhai's chest. He still could not fully accept that his own brother had fallen to that path. He didn't understand why Heng had said it was his fault, why he had chosen this road.
He remembered a dispute they'd had when Lu Heng was much younger—a bitter fight—but he had thought they had put that matter to rest long ago. Now, with the world burning around them, he doubted his brother would ever bother telling him the truth. And deep down, he knew: if they met again, Heng would attack him without hesitation.
And with Xie Lang involved, Tianhun's resolve was absolute. He would kill both of them without mercy.
But perhaps—just perhaps—Zhenhai could convince him to imprison Heng instead of killing him. Perhaps there was a sliver of hope left to pull him away from the demonic path.
For the first time in many years, Lu Zhenhai felt truly lost. He did not know how to fix this, how to save his brother from himself.
Earlier, before all of this had happened, Lin Shu—alongside Yan Qing and Ren Hao—was still locked in battle with Han Yi.
Steel clashed, Qi flared, and the air rippled under the force of her strikes. The three of them had finally begun moving in sync, their attacks flowing in a tighter rhythm, each covering the other's openings. But even with this newfound coordination, they could not close the gap between them and her.
Han Yi's dominance was absolute. At long range, her strikes were precise and relentless. At mid range, her techniques cut through their defenses with effortless precision. At close range, her speed was overwhelming, every blow laced with power and intent. Her movements shifted seamlessly from one range to another, her versatility unmatched.
They threw everything they had at her, but her defenses held strong, absorbing or deflecting each assault with infuriating ease. Her cultivation was higher, her mastery deeper—every exchange reminded them that they were fighting someone whose skill was carved from years of refined battle experience.
They were weaker in every field but one—their numbers. Yet that sole advantage brought no path to victory. It didn't give them the strength to defeat her… only the chance to survive her. Every moment they fought was not to win, but to endure, to hold their ground against a storm they could not hope to quell.
Lin Shu, his Ivory Dominion armor now gone to conserve as much Qi as possible, gripped two ivory shields in each hand, intercepting Han Yi's relentless strikes. Every impact jarred his arms, but he held firm, buying Ren Hao the chance to dart in close and giving Yan Qing narrow openings to launch his attacks.
After another fierce exchange, they were forced to pull back, their breaths heavy and movements growing taut with fatigue.
Ren Hao, still catching his breath, glanced between them and said, "Does any of you have anything that can stop her?"
Lin Shu didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on Han Yi, his mind racing. He searched for a way to kill her without resorting to his trump card—the Berserker's Brand pill. Using that now would mean gambling his life, and he wanted her dead without paying that price.
"I have a blister bomb," Yan Qing suddenly said.
Both Lin Shu and Ren Hao turned to him sharply. Before they could speak, he explained, "During the mission where we planted bombs in the Jiang Clan's shops and assets, I was assigned to a small shop. When I saw the size, I figured my teammate's bomb would be enough for it, so I didn't use mine. That's why I still have it."
Of course, Yan Qing didn't mention what happened afterward—that he had slit his teammate's throat later that night. Whether the boy suspected anything or not didn't matter as long as he was dead.
The air between them trembled under the oppressive tension. Han Yi stood in the distance, bow already drawn, her eyes cold and locked on the three of them like a predator toying with prey.
Lin Shu's voice was low but sharp. "We trap her. Force her close. I'll take the hits." His gaze swept over Ren Hao and Yan Qing. "Ren Hao, you'll corner her with your speed. Yan Qing, keep her under pressure from range. When she's locked in, we make our move. We'll need to take lethal strikes and endure them. Prepare yourselves."
Yan Qing gave the faintest nod, moving behind Lin Shu and slipping the blister bomb into his palm without drawing attention. Lin Shu slid it into his spatial ring, his mind already working through the timing. The bomb needed five seconds to detonate. Too much time, unless he made it less. He would only throw it when there were two seconds left—no chance for her to escape.
Ren Hao's palms ignited into scorching flames, his stance crouched like a spring about to release. "I'll drive her into your range."
With the last of his Qi, Lin Shu summoned his Ivory Monolith, the pale armor wrapping over his body in a ghostly gleam. It was all he had left—no Qi for movement, no Qi for healing, and once it was gone, nothing would remain.
The plan was set.
"Now!" Lin Shu barked.
Ren Hao burst forward in a blur of heat, the air distorting around his flames as he weaved in unpredictable arcs. Han Yi's bowstring twanged—an arrow whistled toward him. He rolled aside, barely avoiding it, only for two more to come in succession. He blocked one with his forearm, the flames around his hand softening the impact but still numbing his limb.
At the same time, Yan Qing loosed a flurry of Qi-infused bolts from his long-range technique, forcing Han Yi to twist and weave rather than simply picking them off. She stepped back, but Ren Hao mirrored every retreat, cutting off her angles with bursts of flame meant to intimidate as much as harm.
Lin Shu advanced steadily through the chaos, the ivory armor absorbing glancing shots. Every step brought him closer, but Han Yi's precision was unrelenting—an arrow scraped his side, another clanged against his chestplate hard enough to make his ribs ache beneath.
The trap began to close. Yan Qing's attacks forced her to shield herself momentarily with her bow arm, and Ren Hao dashed in to cut off her escape route.
Her eyes narrowed—she understood the danger. Han Yi drew back her bow to the limit, her Qi surging violently. The arrow shimmered like a shard of moonlight.
"High-tier Rank 1 technique—Moonpiercer Volley!"
She loosed, and the single arrow split into three mid-flight, each streaking toward them with killing intent. One tore through Yan Qing's arm and buried into his thigh, dropping him to one knee with a sharp cry. Another smashed into Ren Hao's side, knocking him off balance. The last slammed into Lin Shu's chest with bone-jarring force, cracking the monolith's surface.
But it was the opening he needed.
Gritting his teeth, Lin Shu's hand went into his spatial ring, pulling the blister bomb free. He flicked the activation rune—five seconds began ticking down in his mind.
"Two seconds," he muttered, his voice only for himself.
Ren Hao staggered to his feet, exchanging a brief, wordless glance with Lin Shu. Together, they rushed in, flames and ivory against bow and arrow. Han Yi's fingers twitched, trying to draw another shot, but the two were already in her range.
When the timer in Lin Shu's head hit the mark, he hurled the bomb at her feet. Han Yi's expression sharpened—she realized too late it was already primed to explode in two seconds, far too short to escape.
The world erupted in blistering heat and force. The explosion flung all three of them apart. Ren Hao took the brunt of the side blast, slamming into the ground and losing consciousness instantly. Lin Shu's armor shattered completely, shards of pale Qi dissolving into nothing. Half his face was scorched, the pain burning deeper than the skin. Yan Qing, already wounded, was struck by shrapnel from the blast, the arrow still in his arm and another wound bleeding from his leg.
When the dust settled, Han Yi was on one knee, her bow arm trembling, burns licking up her side where the bomb had struck. Her glare was murderous despite her injury.