The training hall was silent again.
After the clash between Ye Wuchen and the last of the Seven, the entire sect had gone still—as if waiting for the next wind to blow through the cracks that had just formed in their long-standing traditions.
Ye Wuchen stood alone in the center of the hall. His uniform was torn at the shoulders, the black trim dusted with ash from the impact. The twin blades on his back—the Murkfang and the Shadowbrand—vibrated softly in their sheaths, as if whispering to each other.
A single drop of sweat slid down his jawline. He didn't wipe it.
Instead, he looked toward the elevated platform where Master Yan Xi sat. Her hands were clasped, her gaze unreadable.
"Is this... truly over?" Ye Wuchen's voice, low and calm, barely echoed in the vast chamber.
Yan Xi didn't speak for a long moment.
Then Shen Li's voice came from behind her, sharp and colder than usual. "You broke more than just tradition today, Wuchen. The Seven were meant to be a shield. Now, they're scattered."
"I didn't want to scatter them." Ye Wuchen turned toward him. "But I will not stand by and let tradition become a cage."
Yan Xi finally stood, her cloak falling back to reveal her Soul Ring—bright silver with streaks of blue. "Come with me."
He followed.
---
They walked silently through the inner corridors of the sect, past scroll-laden halls and quiet meditation chambers. Only the tap of their boots marked the time.
At last, Yan Xi stopped before a sealed door.
"This room hasn't been opened in a decade," she said, pressing her palm against a sigil on the door. "It once belonged to a swordsman who chose exile over obedience."
The door hissed open, revealing a narrow room filled with dust and a single sword stand—empty.
Ye Wuchen stepped in. The air inside was stale, but heavy with the echo of something old.
"You're not him," Yan Xi said from the doorway. "But you're walking the same road."
"Was he your disciple?" Ye Wuchen asked quietly.
"No," she replied. "He was my brother."
He turned sharply.
"He walked the path of shadow just like you," she continued. "But he trusted no one. Not even himself. He left us to chase an enemy we never understood."
Ye Wuchen's voice softened. "What was he chasing?"
"A darkness that devoured the soul itself. We called it the Hollow Fade."
He frowned. "I've heard that name. During my last duel… the system mentioned it."
Yan Xi stepped inside and pulled a faded scroll from a drawer beneath the sword stand. "Then it has returned."
---
That night, Ye Wuchen sat on the rooftop of his quarters.
The city lights shimmered in the distance beyond the sect walls. The moon, pale and cold, hung just above the horizon.
He opened the scroll.
It was covered in erratic drawings—maps, soul ring diagrams, and a series of names scribbled in fury.
But one word was circled over and over again:
"Devourer."
Suddenly, his system chimed to life, softly.
> [New Quest Activated]
Uncover the Path of the Hollow Fade
Investigate the Exiled Swordsman's trail
Earn the trust of the Silent Blade
Warning: Unknown entities are tracking your progress
His chest tightened.
This wasn't just about strength anymore.
It was about remembrance.
And just then, he heard a voice behind him.
"You're not alone in this."
Ye Wuchen turned.
Yan Xi stood there—not as a master, but as someone who had lost more than she let on.
"You'll need allies," she said. "And not the kind who bow because they must."
He nodded slowly.
"I'll find them."
And in the wind, he heard the distant echo of footsteps—others were already moving.