The wind howled through the frozen gorge, carrying the scent of ash from the bodies Lianyin had left behind.
Snow swirled in tight, restless eddies, as if the land itself recoiled from him.
Qingxue followed at a careful distance, her steps silent. She had seen that look in his eyes before—once in an assassin's gaze, just before he cut down a child.
But this time, the assassin was her friend.
---
Lianyin's voice broke the stillness. "I can hear it."
She frowned. "Hear what?"
He turned to her, silver veins shimmering faintly under his skin. "The beating of hearts. Every living thing in this gorge."
His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It's like they're calling to me."
---
Qingxue's hand drifted toward the talisman at her belt. She didn't want to use it, but she had seen the way his strikes had shifted—no longer precise, no longer sparing. They were meant to kill.
"Lianyin, you need to slow down," she said. "The Art—"
"The Art is me now," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "It's the only reason we've survived this long."
---
A sudden crack echoed ahead.
Two hunters emerged from the pines, bows slung across their backs, their faces open and unguarded.
They froze at the sight of Lianyin. "Who—"
He was on them before the question finished, his palm striking one in the chest. The man flew back, ribs shattering on impact.
The second hunter reached for his bow, but Lianyin's hand closed around his throat.
---
"STOP!" Qingxue's voice rang through the gorge, raw with desperation.
For a heartbeat, Lianyin hesitated.
The hunter's wide, terrified eyes seemed to pierce through the haze in his mind. But then the hunger roared back, flooding him with the urge to crush the life from that fragile neck.
His grip tightened.
---
Something warm and sharp burned against his skin—Qingxue's talisman, pressed to his forearm.
Light erupted from it, searing through his veins like molten silver.
Lianyin dropped the hunter with a gasp, staggering back. Pain flared in every nerve, tearing a scream from his throat.
Qingxue stood between him and the hunters, her stance steady despite the tears in her eyes.
---
"Go," she told the hunters, her voice firm. "Before he changes his mind."
They didn't wait for a second order. Snow swallowed their fleeing figures.
Lianyin knelt in the snow, panting, his face pale. "You… used it on me."
"You were about to kill them," she said, her tone flat.
"They were nothing—"
"They were people, Lianyin. People who didn't deserve to die."
---
His jaw clenched. "You think I don't know that?!"
The words burst from him, but his voice cracked under the weight of something darker—shame.
Qingxue stepped closer, softer now. "Then fight it. Please. Before it's too late."
---
Silence hung between them, broken only by the hiss of the wind.
Lianyin finally rose, his expression shuttered.
"I can't promise that," he said. "Not anymore."
---
Far above, on a cliff overlooking the gorge, a lone figure watched—the same masked man from before, his breath misting through the slits of his mask.
"He's losing himself faster than expected," he murmured. "Good. That will make him easier to control."