The Aftermath of the Cliff
Smoke clung to the cliff like a living thing, curling through shattered stone and scorched roots. The wind howled through the ruins, carrying with it the bitter scent of blood and burnt qi.
"Mi-An! Mi-An!! MI-AN!!!"
Xiao Yan's voice tore through the fog, raw and desperate. His heart slammed against his ribs, each breath ragged. He stumbled forward, peering into the gray abyss—but there was nothing. No trace of her. Only broken earth and silence.
Di'or arrived first, dragging Saint Lu Qi away from the fractured edge. Several disciples rushed in behind them, steadying the weakened Saint as his blood soaked into the ground. One by one, the remaining Saints descended upon the cliff, their gazes sharp and fearful as they searched the skies.
"What happened here?" the Saint of Xi Wu Sect demanded, his voice tight with alarm.
Nem stood apart from them, fists clenched, his face twisted with fury. "Mi-An," he snarled. "She ruined everything."
Di'or's head snapped toward him. "What did you just say?"
"She interfered!" Nem shouted. "At the critical moment! She threw herself at the Ansha—what else could that mean?"
"Don't speak ill of her!" Xiao Yan roared, spinning around. His eyes burned with grief and rage. "You weren't there!"
Nem scoffed, stepping forward. "You're blinded, Xiao Yan. Open your eyes. Why would anyone leap into the abyss with the Ansha unless they were conspiring with him? She wanted to die with him!"
"What!?" Xiao Yan screamed. Divine pressure flared uncontrollably from his body. "You knave! Say another word and I'll—"
"Enough."
Saint Lu Qi's voice cut through the chaos—calm, heavy, and absolute. He wiped the blood from his mouth and straightened, forcing himself upright.
"Xiao Yan," he said firmly, "this is not the time to fracture further. Rage will not bring her back."
Xiao Yan's fists trembled. Slowly, painfully, he lowered his arms. His gaze drifted back to the cliff's edge, where the wind howled endlessly below.
"Ansha…" he whispered, teeth clenched. "I'll find you. I swear it."
His eyes hardened.
"A thousand years ago, the Ansha dragged me off this very cliff," he continued, voice steady now, sharpened by resolve. "I survived because someone wanted me alive."
He turned toward the others.
"If history repeats itself," Xiao Yan said, "then we'll find him where I was found."
The wind surged violently, as though the abyss itself had heard his vow.
And far below— where fate had already begun to move— the answer waited.