Night had deepened into its quietest hour.
The mountains slept beneath a sky without wind, without sound, without mercy. Even the insects had fallen silent, as if the world itself were holding its breath in anticipation of something unseen.
Xu Yan walked alone along the narrow road.
Each step was careful. Measured. Soundless despite the weakness still clinging to his limbs. The recovery pill had steadied his body, but exhaustion lingered deep in his bones, heavy as iron.
Yet he did not slow.
Because the compass in his sleeve had grown warm again.
Not gently this time.
Urgently.
The faint bronze surface pulsed against his wrist like a second heartbeat—faster… faster… as though counting down to an unseen moment.
And within his mind, the distant presence he had felt since waking now throbbed with unmistakable clarity.
Pain.
Chains.
Waiting.
Calling to him.
Not in words.
In need.
Xu Yan's eyes darkened as the solitary caravan came into view ahead, half-swallowed by moonlit shadow.
He stopped just beyond the reach of the lantern's glow.
For a long moment, he simply stood there, breathing slowly, listening to the silence.
This was madness.
A wounded outer disciple had no reason to return to a stranger's caravan in the dead of night. No reason to follow whispers he could not explain. No reason to trust a broken compass found in ruins.
Every instinct of survival told him to leave.
To turn around.
To live quietly.
To forget this pull entirely.
But the warmth in his sleeve did not fade.
And the presence in his mind did not stop calling.
Slowly, Xu Yan exhaled.
"…If this is fate," he murmured softly,
"then let me see what it wants."
He stepped forward.
The merchant was awake.
He stood beside the cart exactly where Xu Yan remembered, lantern light painting long shadows across his plain, unreadable face.
No surprise showed in his eyes when Xu Yan approached.
Only a quiet, patient calm.
"You came back," the merchant said.
Xu Yan's gaze was steady. "You expected me to."
A faint smile touched the man's lips.
"Some meetings cannot be avoided."
The compass in Xu Yan's sleeve pulsed—once, sharp as a heartbeat.
Inside his mind, the distant suffering surged suddenly closer.
Below. Behind. Inside the cart.
Xu Yan's breathing slowed further.
"…What are you hiding?" he asked.
The merchant did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked up at the moon, as though measuring time by its slow climb across the sky.
When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before.
"Tell me, young cultivator…
do you believe destiny is a gift—
or a cage?"
Xu Yan's eyes narrowed slightly. "I believe cages can be broken."
For the first time, something like genuine emotion flickered across the merchant's face.
Relief.
"…Good," he whispered.
And in that instant—
killing intent exploded.
The strike came without warning.
Cold steel flashed through lantern light, aimed not at Xu Yan's heart—
but his throat.
Fast. Precise. Merciless.
Xu Yan moved on instinct alone.
Pain tore through his meridians as he forced spiritual energy into motion, twisting his body just enough for the blade to graze past instead of severing flesh completely.
Warm blood spilled down his collar.
He did not retreat.
Could not.
Because the presence in his mind was screaming now—
not in fear of death…
but in fear of time running out.
Xu Yan stepped forward instead of back.
His own blade rose like a shadow pulled from darkness.
The clash rang once through the silent mountains—sharp, final, echoing far too loudly in the still night.
Then silence fell again.
The merchant staggered.
Xu Yan's blade had pierced straight through his chest.
Clean. Direct. Unavoidable.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Blood dripped slowly onto the dust between them, dark in the lantern glow.
The merchant looked down at the wound… then back up at Xu Yan.
No hatred filled his eyes.
No anger.
Only a deep, endless tiredness.
"…At last," he breathed.
Xu Yan's grip tightened slightly. "Why?"
The merchant's lips curved into the faintest smile.
"Because…
some cages…
can only be opened…
with blood."
His strength failed.
He collapsed silently to the ground.
The lantern flickered once in the windless dark—
and went out.
For a single heartbeat, the world was completely black.
Then the scream inside Xu Yan's mind shattered the silence.
Not sound.
Not words.
Pure, desperate release.
Xu Yan turned instantly and tore open the rear covering of the cart.
Darkness lay within.
Heavy. Suffocating. Ancient.
And at the center of it—
chains.
Black as starless night, etched with seals older than memory, wrapped layer upon layer around a small, unmoving form.
Golden light leaked faintly between the links, trembling like the last ember of a dying fire.
Xu Yan stepped closer.
The compass in his sleeve burned hot against his skin.
His breath caught.
Because he could feel it now—clearly, unmistakably.
Not a monster.
Not a treasure.
Something… alive.
Something that knew him.
Slowly, the chained creature lifted its head.
Ancient golden eyes opened in the darkness.
They were dim with exhaustion.
Clouded by ages of suffering.
Yet the moment they met Xu Yan's—
the entire world seemed to stop.
Recognition passed between them like silent lightning across lifetimes.
A voice, fragile as fading starlight, trembled inside his soul.
…Master…?
Xu Yan's heart slammed violently against his ribs.
"I…"
His voice failed.
"I don't—"
He didn't understand.
Didn't remember.
Didn't know why grief—deep and sudden—was rising in his chest like a storm.
But one truth stood undeniable before him:
It had been waiting.
For him.
Through years…
through silence…
through endless darkness.
Xu Yan's hand moved before thought could stop it.
His blade struck the nearest chain.
Nothing happened.
The metal did not scratch.
Did not tremble.
Despair flickered in the golden eyes.
Time… was ending.
Something inside Xu Yan snapped.
A deeper power—cold, vast, ancient—surged faintly within his dantian, drawn out by will alone.
He struck again.
This time—
the chain cracked.
A single fracture.
Small.
But real.
Golden light burst through the opening like sunrise breaking across a dead world.
The creature's breath shuddered.
Hope ignited where none had lived for ages.
Xu Yan roared softly through clenched teeth and struck again—
and again—
until the final chain shattered into drifting black dust.
Light flooded the cart.
Warm. Boundless. Ancient beyond measure.
The small golden beast collapsed forward into the open air, wings trembling weakly, body barely able to stand.
Yet its eyes never left Xu Yan.
Not with fear.
Not with doubt.
With certainty.
Xu Yan swayed, strength finally abandoning him as the last of the chains dissolved into nothing.
His blood-slick hand slipped against the storage ring on his finger—
and the world erupted in crimson light.
Power surged outward in a silent storm.
The ring burned like a fallen star, ancient seals awakening one by one beneath the touch of his blood.
Light gathered in the air before him—
forming the outline of a woman suspended between dream and reality.
Long hair drifting in unseen wind.
Eyes closed as if sleeping through eternity.
An aura so vast it made the night itself feel small.
Slowly…
her eyes opened.
They fell upon Xu Yan—
and filled instantly with tears that had waited lifetimes to fall.
"…You finally came back," she whispered.
The words struck deeper than any blade.
Xu Yan's mind trembled. "Who… are you?"
She looked at him not with doubt—
but with absolute, unshakable recognition.
"You are the one who once ruled the heavens," she said softly.
"The king who fell… and the soul I swore to follow beyond death."
Silence swallowed the mountains.
Fragments stirred in the darkness of Xu Yan's memory—
thrones of light…
endless war…
a lonely crown beneath broken stars.
Truth he could not yet grasp.
Destiny he could no longer escape.
The woman's voice gentled, like dawn touching winter frost.
"This life," she said,
"I will stand beside you again."
Behind Xu Yan, the freed golden beast lowered its head in quiet acknowledgment.
Not submission.
Not yet.
But the beginning of something older than fate.
Far above the silent mountains, unseen by mortal eyes,
something in the distant heavens…
stirred.
As if an ancient enemy, long certain of victory,
had just felt—
for the first time in ages—
the return of a name
that should have remained forgotten.
And on the dark road below,
between blood, light, and broken chains,
Xu Yan's true journey
finally began.