"Dad, Master Pang, get your things. Now!"
The words ripped from Jiang Dao's throat the moment he burst through the door. "The city guard is gone—all of them dead. Hengzhou is a ghost town. If we're going to get out, it's now or never. Move!"
"What?" Jiang Dalong and Pang Lin froze, the color draining from their faces. The entire city guard… gone? A cold dread, sharp and sudden, cut through them. They didn't waste a second on questions, scrambling to pack their belongings.
For the second time in as many days, Jiang Dalong's roar echoed through the compound. Travel light! Gold, silver, and valuables only. Leave anything that will slow us down. Leave it all!"
The estate erupted into controlled chaos. Two hours later, a line of carriages rattled out of the Jiang family gates, plunging into the soupy red mist that still choked the city streets.
Visibility was near zero, but these were their streets. Every man and woman in the caravan had walked these roads their entire lives. They could navigate them blind, feeling the turn of the road, the familiar slope of a hill, the space between buildings. They were ghosts in their own home, fleeing a greater darkness.
When they reached the main gate, the scene was a tableau from a nightmare. The massive gates gaped open, vomiting red mist into the world beyond. Flanking the entrance were the bodies of the city guard, dozens of them, shriveled and desiccated like sides of smoked meat.
Jiang Dao's eyes landed on a familiar, horrifying figure: General Gongsun. Yesterday, the man had been a mountain of muscle and confidence. Now, he was a withered husk lying in the mist, his skin pulled taut over his bones, dark and thin, his face frozen in a silent scream.
Other citizens, clutching their own meager bundles, scurried through the gate, their eyes wide with terror. Jiang Dao waved his own caravan forward, urging them through the breach.
Something broke last night, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. Something came through and shattered the last line of defense. He fought the urge to understand, to piece it together. All that mattered was getting away. Hengzhou was a tomb, and every moment they remained, they risked being buried in it.
The world outside the walls was a jarring, breathtaking contrast.
The moment they cleared the gate, the red mist vanished as if it had hit an invisible wall. Blinding sunlight stabbed at their eyes. The air was warm, alive with the buzz of insects and the sweet scent of pollen. Sparrows flitted between trees. It was a world teeming with life, utterly untouched by the rot that had consumed Hengzhou.
"We're… we're safe, aren't we?" Pang Lin asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Not yet," Jiang Dao said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We're not safe until we reach Fengzhou. Let's ride."
"Right. I'll take the lead," Pang Lin said, nodding sharply.
Free from the oppressive fog, the caravan became a thunder of hooves and rattling wheels on the open road. They pushed the horses hard, not stopping for over four hours until the animals were heaving, their flanks slick with sweat.
They finally pulled over to rest. Servants rushed to water and feed the exhausted horses while the passengers stumbled out of the carriages. Some stretched their legs, others retched into the bushes, their stomachs churning from the relentless pace.
Pang Lin handed Jiang Dao a waterskin. He ripped the cork out and drank deeply, the cool water a welcome shock to his system.
It was in that moment of relief, as he drank, that it happened. A primal, electric chill shot up his spine. The hair on his arms stood on end.
Danger.
He spun around, his eyes locking on the treeline fifty yards away.
A figure emerged from the shadows, a study in obsidian. He wore a black robe, with long black hair, and eyes like polished jet. Even his fingernails were a deep, glossy black. But it was his smile that stopped Jiang Dao's heart. It was a grotesque gash that split his face ear to ear, a nightmarish grin that held no warmth, only a terrifying, predatory glee.
Jiang Dao's pupils contracted to pinpricks. His muscles coiled tight as he took a step back.
"EVERYONE, BACK! NOW!" he roared.
Jiang Dalong and the others, startled by his tone, turned to see what he was looking at. The moment their eyes fell on the grinning youth, a suffocating fear gripped them. It became hard to breathe, as if an invisible hand were squeezing the air from their lungs.
Panic erupted.
"Get in the carriages! Go, go, go!" Jiang Dalong screamed, shoving people toward the wagons.
"Leaving so soon?" The youth's voice was a silken whisper that carried across the distance. "I don't recall giving you permission."
Whoosh.
He moved. It wasn't running; it was closer to teleportation. He left a shimmering black afterimage as he surged forward, not in a straight line but in an erratic, zig-zagging path. He brought with him the foul stench of decay as he closed the distance, his target not Jiang Dao, but his father.
Rage burned away Jiang Dao's fear. He threw the waterskin aside as power exploded from his core, his muscles swelling. He met the youth's charge head-on.
"DIE!" he bellowed, his fist a blur of motion that shattered the air as it rocketed toward the youth's face.
The youth's smile only widened, revealing rows of fine, needle-like teeth. He didn't dodge. He didn't even flinch. He simply raised his own fist and threw a punch that met Jiang Dao's in mid-air.
The collision was a flat, wet crack of sound that sent a shockwave blasting through the clearing. Both of them were thrown backward. Jiang Dao flew through the air and slammed into a thick tree, snapping it in half with a deafening crack. He hit the ground hard, blood trickling from his lips.
The strange youth was thrown even further, obliterating a thousand-pound boulder into dust and rubble.
But before Jiang Dao could even register a hint of victory, the youth rose from the wreckage as if he'd merely stumbled. A faint, oily black light shimmered over his shoulder where Jiang Dao's fist had connected, and in an instant, he was completely unharmed.
A cold dread, deeper and more terrifying than any he had ever known, washed over Jiang Dao.
"An interesting human," the youth mused, his smile never faltering. His neck twisted at an impossible angle, cracking like dry twigs. "So you're the one who killed my two little pets."
"What are you?" Jiang Dao growled, pushing himself to his feet. "Why are you hunting my family?"
"Why?" The youth laughed, a dry, unsettling sound. "Because I can."
"So you're going to try and kill us all today?" Jiang Dao's voice was ice.
"Is there really any question?" The youth ran a long, scarlet tongue over his black lips. "None of you is leaving here alive."
"Then let's finish this." All hesitation, all strategy, evaporated from Jiang Dao's mind. There was only the fight.
BOOM!
A wave of raw power erupted from him. The shirt he wore disintegrated, blasted to shreds by the force emanating from his own body. His muscles writhed and bunched like knotted steel cables, thick veins pulsing across his skin. If this were to be his end, he would not go quietly.
The youth's grin became cruel, almost hungry. "Excellent," he hissed. "Your flesh will be a delicacy."
Swish!
He vanished again, the stench of the grave flooding the air as he reappeared right in front of Jiang Dao, a black-nailed hand swiping for his heart.
Jiang Dao roared, stomping his foot so hard the ground cratered beneath him. He threw himself forward, a human cannonball of pure force, meeting the attack with a palm strike of his own.
CRACK!
Their hands met, and the world seemed to explode in a vortex of wind and raw power. They were no longer men; they were primal forces of nature locked in a death struggle.
Then the world became a blur of motion and a cacophony of thunderous impacts.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Fist met palm. Bone jarred against bone. They moved at speeds the human eye couldn't follow, each blow landing with the force to level a building. The air around them warped and buckled. Trees dozens of yards away were snapped in two by the shockwaves alone.
The members of the Jiang family could only stare in speechless horror. Pang Lin's jaw hung open. Was this their Young Master? Was this even human? This wasn't martial arts. This was something else entirely. This was the clash of monsters.
"Dao'er!" Jiang Dalong screamed, his voice raw with terror. "Be careful!"