The northern wind carried a chill that cut through bone.
Fog rolled down the mountains, thick and heavy, swallowing the narrow trail that wound along the cliffs. Jian Wu walked slowly, his steps uneven, his body still trembling from the battle in the forest three days ago. Each breath felt like dragging a chain through his chest.
He lifted his gaze. The sky above was gray and heavy, a ceiling of stormclouds pressing down.
"The heavens really won't let me rest," he muttered.
Then, footsteps.
Soft at first, then clearer, crunching over gravel. Jian Wu froze. The sound didn't belong to him, and it wasn't the stride of a wild beast.
Moments later, three figures emerged through the mist. They wore pale-blue robes marked with the symbol of the Azure Sky Sect. Disciples, young, sharp-eyed, confident. Their gazes locked onto him like hawks spotting prey.
"There!" one of them shouted. "He's alive! Don't let him escape!"
Jian Wu's pulse spiked. They've already found me…
He spun and ran down the slope. Branches whipped his face. Mud splashed under his feet. Behind him, the disciples gave chase, their boots pounding against the wet ground. Then A piercing whistle split the air.
Blue light streaked through the fog, wrapping around Jian Wu's legs.
A Spirit Binding Seal.
He was yanked backward and hit the ground hard, tumbling down the path until his body stopped at the cliff's edge. Blood dripped from his forehead. When he looked up, a disciple stood above him, sword pointed straight at his chest.
"Jian Wu of Qi Yue City," the young man said coldly. "By Elder Yan Mu's decree, you are under arrest!"
Jian Wu looked at him, dazed, then chuckled weakly.
"Arresting someone the heavens already abandoned… how pointless."
"Silence!" The disciple's blade flashed down. But before it could touch him, the air shifted.
A pulse of energy burst from Jian Wu's chest, black and blue, violent and alive.
He didn't even move. The world itself recoiled.
The three disciples were thrown back as if struck by an unseen storm. The impact was silent, but powerful enough to crack the ground and shake the trees nearby.
When the light faded, two of them were unconscious. The third stumbled, barely standing, eyes wide with horror.
"That… that wasn't human!"
Jian Wu looked down at his hands. Blue light crawled along his veins, flickering like fire. His body trembled as pain surged through him. It felt like the world itself was trying to erase him for what he'd just done.
"Go," he said hoarsely. "Before I lose control."
The disciple didn't need to be told twice. He ran.
When silence returned, Jian Wu dropped to his knees. His breath came in ragged bursts. His body burned from the inside out.
Every time I use this power… I feel myself disappearing.
He stared at the dirt beneath him, cracked, faintly glowing from the residual energy. Slowly, the light dimmed. The sky above began to rain.
Hours later, he found shelter beneath an overhanging rock. He sat there, watching the rain fall. The cold bit into his skin, but it was the silence that weighed heavier.
He looked at his palm. The faint symbol still pulsed faintly, alive yet distant.
"Is this… the same power that killed that wolf?" he murmured.
No one answered, until the familiar voice echoed within him.
"Power does not kill. It only restores balance."
"Balance?" Jian Wu scoffed. "I almost died."
"Every life pays a price to survive. You simply pay yours sooner than most."
"And what do I gain in return?" he asked quietly.
"Truth."
Jian Wu laughed softly, without joy. "Truth doesn't fill an empty stomach. The world only respects strength."
"Then become strength itself."
He clenched his fists. "Who are you really?"
"The sect hunts you."
His breath caught. "How do you know that?"
"Because I've seen it before," the voice whispered. "Because I am what you will become."
He looked into the dim firelight that flickered before him, seeing strange images reflected within it, ruined temples, skies torn apart, shadows devouring light.
"What… are these memories?"
"They are yours now."
Then the voice vanished again, leaving behind only the quiet drip of rain and the sound of his heartbeat.
By morning, the storm had passed. Jian Wu emerged from the cave, his clothes damp and torn. Mist clung to the treetops below.
From the ridge, he could see a narrow road winding north, toward trade villages and sect outposts.
"If I want to live," he whispered, "I have to disappear."
He descended the mountain, passing through a small settlement called Huanshi Village. The people there were simple, their clothes patched, their faces kind but cautious. He felt their stares follow him as he walked down the muddy street.
At the corner, an old man stood behind a wooden stall, stirring a pot of steaming porridge.
"You look hungry, boy," the man said kindly. "Sit."
Jian Wu hesitated, then nodded and sat down. "Thank you, sir."
The old man handed him a bowl. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"No," Jian Wu said quietly. "Just passing through."
"Passing through to where?"
He smiled faintly. "I don't know yet."
The old man chuckled. For a moment, the world felt simple again, no sects, no power, no fear. Just the warmth of food and the quiet hum of rain on rooftops.
But then the laughter in the street died.
Five figures walked past the stall, disciples of the Azure Sky Sect, their blue robes stained with travel dust.
The old man's expression changed. He leaned closer. "You should go. Now."
Jian Wu met his eyes. There was no fear in them, only concern. He stood and placed a small silver coin on the table.
"Thank you," he said softly. "For your kindness."
He slipped out through the back, moving between narrow wooden houses as the rain returned.
Hours later, Jian Wu stopped by the river outside the village.
He looked at his reflection in the water, blurred, shifting, almost unrecognizable.
"I'm tired of running," he whispered.
"Then stop running."
He closed his eyes. "If I stop, they'll kill me."
"Then become something they cannot kill."
Jian Wu let out a shaky breath. "You make it sound easy."
"You've done it once already, empty one. The world called you trash, yet the heavens trembled when you refused to die."
The voice softened, almost gentle now.
"But remember, every power demands a price. Each time you use it, something will be lost."
"What will I lose?"
"The part of you that still feels human."
The words lingered in the air, heavy and quiet.
The wind stirred, sending ripples across the river's surface. Jian Wu stared at his reflection one last time.
"If that's the price of surviving," he said, "then I'll pay it."
Thunder rolled across the horizon.
He turned north and began to walk again, toward a world that had already rejected him, but could no longer forget his name.