"Let her go."
Yao Xuan's voice cut through the alley, clear and firm. He stepped forward, placing himself between the thugs and the silver-haired girl.
The young men spun around, their faces twisting with anger when they saw the source of the challenge—a boy barely over a meter tall, his stature slight and youthful.
"Beat it, kid! This doesn't concern you!" one of the lackeys snarled. He lunged forward, his leg sweeping in a clumsy, wide arc aimed to knock Yao Xuan aside.
'His balance is all wrong,' Yao Xuan observed, his mind cool and analytical. The blessing of the Ancestral Dragon Body made the thug's movements seem sluggish, his center of gravity obvious. With a fluid sidestep, Yao Xuan evaded the kick effortlessly. In the same motion, he pivoted and delivered a sharp, precise strike of his own to the man's supporting leg.
A dull thud echoed as his foot connected with the thug's shin.
"Argh!" The youth cried out, his leg buckling instantly. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his limb, his face a mask of shock and pain.
"Useless!" the leader spat, glaring at his fallen comrade. He flicked his wrist, and a blade of cold steel appeared in his hand, glinting in the afternoon light. He pointed it at Yao Xuan. "You've got a death wish, brat!"
Yao Xuan didn't flinch. His gaze remained steady. "I said, let her go." He raised his right hand. A soft, nine-colored luminescence bloomed above his palm, coalescing into the ethereal form of his Ancestral Dragon Martial Soul. The air around it hummed with a faint, primordial energy. "I am a Soul Master. Test that claim if you wish."
The display of a martial soul and the tangible, if nascent, power it radiated was a potent deterrent. The status of a Soul Master was a shield recognized across the Federation.
"Boss, he's registered! If we harm him, the Spirit Pagoda will hunt us to the ends of the earth!" one of the other thugs hissed, his bravado evaporating. "It's not worth it!"
The leader's eyes darted from Yao Xuan's determined face to the shimmering dragon spirit, then to his whimpering friend. He snarled in frustration. "Damn it! Fine! This isn't over!" He shot a final, venomous glare before barking at his gang, "Let's go!" They scattered, melting back into the city's shadows.
As they fled, the little girl's amethyst eyes remained fixed not on the retreating threats, but on the Ancestral Dragon Martial Soul hovering above Yao Xuan's hand. A profound, instinctual recognition flickered in their depths. 'This presence... it feels like a half-remembered dream...'
Yao Xuan watched them until they were out of sight, then allowed himself a quiet exhale. The tension in his shoulders eased. A direct confrontation had been a risk; this outcome was clean.
A small, genuine smile touched his lips. The reward was welcome, but the true victory was standing a few feet away, safe.
He turned and approached the girl slowly, not wanting to startle her. He knelt, bringing himself to her eye level. The dust on her clothes and the faint confusion in her brilliant purple eyes made his protective instincts surge.
"The bad men are gone. You're safe now." His voice was soft. "My name is Yao Xuan. What's yours?"
She blinked, long silver lashes fluttering as if searching a vast, empty memory. "...Na'er," she finally whispered, her voice a clear, melodic chime that belied her disheveled state.
"Na'er," he repeated, the name feeling right on his tongue. "It's a beautiful name. It suits you."
A faint pink hue colored her cheeks. She averted her gaze, a silent, shy acknowledgment.
"Na'er," he continued, his tone gentle yet concerned. "Are you lost? Where is your family? I can help you find them."
At the question, a veil of wistful uncertainty descended over her features. She gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.
Gurgle...
The sound from her stomach broke the quiet moment. Na'er flinched, her head bowing so low her silver hair curtained her face, the blush on her neck deepening.
The sound pulled at something deep within Yao Xuan. "You're hungry," he stated, his voice filled with a warmth that was entirely sincere. "If you have nowhere to go... you can come home with me. Just for now."
He offered his hand, palm up, an invitation without pressure.
"I'll go with you," Na'er murmured. She slowly lifted her head, her amethyst eyes meeting his. In them, he saw the fading echoes of loneliness and the first, fragile glimmers of trust.
He smiled, a calm, reassuring expression that reached his eyes. "Then come on."
She looked at his outstretched hand for a moment, then placed her small, cool one in his. It was a simple gesture, but in that touch, a bond began to form—not born of grand destiny, but of simple kindness offered and accepted in a dusty alley.