The gorge had always been quiet in winter. Today, it screamed.
Snow churned under the boots of warriors as steel rang against steel. The air reeked of blood and cold iron, the kind of scent that seeped into skin and never washed away.
Lianyin stood at the center of it all, breathing in the chaos like it was air.
---
The masked man's ambush had been swift—thirty mercenaries, trained to cut throats and vanish like shadows. But they hadn't expected him.
His first strike shattered the ground, sending a shockwave that threw men from their feet. He landed among them with predatory grace, the Veins of the Abyss pulsing under his skin, turning his silver veins into molten rivers of light.
A scream tore through the snow as his palm crushed a man's ribcage.
---
Qingxue darted in, her sword flashing. "Focus, Lianyin! Just disable them—don't kill!"
But he didn't seem to hear her. His eyes had gone that strange, luminous grey again, empty and endless.
The hunger inside him surged—an ocean wave he couldn't hold back. Each heartbeat around him was a drumbeat, calling for silence.
One by one, he answered.
---
A mercenary slashed at his back. Without turning, Lianyin caught the blade between his fingers, twisted, and wrenched it from the man's hands.
Before the mercenary could breathe, Lianyin drove the hilt into his throat, snapping it.
Blood misted the air.
Qingxue's voice broke, "Lianyin, STOP!"
---
He turned toward her, but for a split second, he didn't see her—only another heartbeat to snuff out.
His hand twitched toward her neck.
The horror in her eyes cut through him like ice.
---
But before he could act, another wave of enemies surged forward. They weren't human—shadow-wreathed figures with warped limbs and empty sockets where eyes should have been.
The masked man had released his pets.
"Let's see how long you last," the man called from the cliffside.
---
The shadows lunged. Lianyin moved without thought—too fast, too brutal. He tore through them, but each kill left his veins blazing hotter, his pulse hammering faster.
The world blurred into red and white. Snow, blood, snow, blood.
His own voice roared in his skull: more, more, more.
---
Then—he realized Qingxue wasn't moving.
She stood frozen, her blade lowered, watching him with something worse than fear.
Disappointment.
---
A massive shadow-beast lunged for her. Lianyin crossed the battlefield in an instant, intercepting it. But instead of stopping, he ripped its head free with his bare hands, black ichor splattering across them both.
The beast's body fell twitching at her feet.
He looked at her, chest heaving. "I protected you."
"You slaughtered everything," she said, voice trembling. "That's not protecting. That's… losing yourself."
---
He wanted to argue. To tell her that survival required this. That mercy was a luxury they couldn't afford.
But the truth was, he couldn't stop. Not anymore.
The hunger didn't fade when the enemies were gone. It only turned toward the living.
---
Above them, the masked man laughed. "Perfect. I couldn't have designed it better myself."
---
Snow kept falling, covering the corpses in white.
But no snow could hide the truth—that today, the gorge had run red not because of their enemies, but because of him.
And Qingxue knew it.
---