The Blue Wind Ranking Tournament was over.
The cheers had faded. The banners were lowered. Sects returned to their mountains—some triumphant, others shamed beyond repair.
And Yun Che?
His name now echoed from every city to every sect hall.
"The youngest to reach the top ranks."
"An unknown from the wastelands."
"A cripple who broke every expectation."
He had claimed a place among giants.
And left broken egos behind him like shattered swords.
---
One such ego belonged to Mu Tianbai, once a proud inner disciple of the Thunder Sword Pavilion. Hailed as a prodigy. A contender for the top ten. But during the tournament, he had faced Yun Che.
And lost.
Brutally. Publicly.
His sword had snapped. His bones had cracked. He had been flung from the stage like trash—watched by his sect master, his juniors, and the emperor himself.
Humiliation festered like poison.
He could no longer show his face at the Pavilion.
So he wandered.
Drunk. Unwashed. Searching for some beast, some bandit—anything he could kill to feel powerful again.
Instead, he found something else.
---
Li Fan had returned to the ancient catacombs beneath the city. There was something down there. A whisper. A scent. Not quite alive… but not dead, either.
He wanted to feed on it.
He had sensed it the night before, but it had moved—shifted beneath stone and silence like a deep current. He couldn't see it. Not yet.
He needed time.
He needed silence.
So when he smelled the approach of Mu Tianbai—reeking of wine, sweat, and self-pity—his eyes narrowed.
"You're not supposed to be here," Li Fan muttered.
But he didn't act immediately. He watched.
---
Mu Tianbai staggered down the steps of the ancient crypt with a torch in one hand and his broken sword strapped to his back.
"Fucking Yun Che…" he snarled aloud. "Some brat from nowhere…"
He kicked a stone. It bounced, struck a pillar, and echoed loudly.
"I'll find something down here. Kill it. Bring back a core. They'll respect me again…"
The silence that followed was thick.
Too thick.
Li Fan moved behind him without a sound.
---
Mu Tianbai froze.
The hairs on his neck rose.
He turned slowly.
"Who—"
A figure stepped out of the darkness. Pale-skinned. Black-cloaked. Eyes faintly silver under the torchlight.
Li Fan's voice was low.
"You lost to Yun Che."
Mu Tianbai snarled. "You mocking me, bastard? Who the hell are—"
He didn't finish.
Because Li Fan moved.
Not fast. Not flashy.
Just... suddenly present.
His fingers were at Mu Tianbai's throat before the man could blink. The torch fell. The crypt was swallowed in shadow.
---
What followed was not a battle.
It was dissection.
Li Fan didn't want the whole man. Just the part of him that had once been proud. Once been strong. The trace of his lightning step, the subtle vibration in his sword strikes, the fierce concentration behind his technique.
He took those.
Not through violence. Through contact.
A skin-to-skin whisper. A flicker of breath. A draw of essence.
Mu Tianbai slumped to his knees, eyes wide.
"W-What… what did you… do to me…?"
Li Fan tilted his head.
"You wanted to prove you were strong."
"Now… you never were."
Mu Tianbai collapsed, breathing shallow, but alive. Emptied.
A hollow man.
Li Fan walked past him and into the depths of the ruin, eyes glowing faintly now, moving with a new rhythm—a swordsman's poise layered atop a predator's gait.
---
He found the sealed chamber two levels deeper.
There was a corpse inside.
It sat on a throne of black stone, surrounded by sigils written in runes older than language. One eye had been shattered. The other glowed faintly red.
"You've awakened," Li Fan whispered.
The thing said nothing.
But it watched him.
Not as prey. Not as predator.
As kin.
Li Fan smiled slowly.
"You've devoured, too. Haven't you?"
He stepped into the circle. The air screamed.
The corpse twitched.
And deep inside Li Fan's body, the parts of him that weren't human anymore sang in response.