The night over Frostveil Mountain was quiet, too quiet.
Cold mist rolled down the cliffs, wrapping the forest below in ghostly silence. The only sound came from footsteps crunching over the snow.
Jian Wu stopped. His breath came out white against the dark air.
He had been walking for hours, yet no matter how far he went, the cold never left his bones.
"Still chasing me, huh…" he muttered.
A faint blue pulse flickered beneath his chest. The mark of the void, dormant for days, was starting to throb again, reacting to something unseen.
He looked back.
Far away, at the edge of the forest, torches moved like fireflies. Voices echoed in the wind, dozens of them.
Disciples from the Cold Heaven Sect.
The same sect that had called him trash now sent hunters to kill him.
---
"Spread out!" a voice shouted from the distance.
"Don't let him reach the ridge! Elder Yue Shan wants him alive!"
Jian Wu clenched his fists. "Alive, huh? Guess I should be flattered."
He turned toward the slope ahead. The ground was steep, icy, and dangerous. One wrong step could send him falling hundreds of meters, but behind him was death anyway.
He took a deep breath. Then ran.
---
Wind sliced against his face as he climbed. Branches whipped across his arms, leaving small cuts. But the burning inside his chest grew stronger, like something was calling him forward.
Suddenly..
BOOM!
A blast of spiritual energy struck the ground near his feet. Snow and dirt exploded upward.
"Found him!" someone yelled.
Three disciples appeared from the treeline, robes fluttering, blades glowing faintly with cold light. Their eyes burned with arrogance.
"Run all you want, trash," one of them sneered. "Without a core, you're nothing."
Jian Wu didn't reply. He raised his eyes, calm but sharp. "If that's true… then why are you afraid?"
The man froze for a second, just long enough.
Jian Wu moved. His body shot forward like a shadow.
The blue light under his skin pulsed once, and a shockwave rippled through the snow.
The first disciple's sword shattered mid-swing.
The second barely saw the strike before his chest hit the ground.
The third stepped back in horror. "W.. What are you?!"
Jian Wu stood over them, chest rising and falling. "I told you. I'm nothing."
He turned away before the third could recover. The blue glow on his chest dimmed again, but his heart still raced.
That power… it wasn't cultivation. It wasn't qi.
It was something else. Something older.
---
At the top of the ridge, a man in white armor stood waiting. His long hair fluttered in the cold wind, his eyes sharp like the edge of a blade.
"Enough."
The voice was calm, but it carried the weight of command.
Jian Wu stopped.
"Elder Yue Shan," he said quietly.
The elder stepped forward. "You should've stayed hidden, boy. Now the heavens themselves want your head."
Jian Wu met his gaze. "If heaven wants me dead, it can come down and do it itself."
Yue Shan sighed, drawing his blade. "Still that same arrogance… just like your father."
The name hit Jian Wu like a punch. "You knew my father?"
"I killed him."
---
Lightning flashed above them, turning the snowfield silver.
For a second, neither moved.
Then Jian Wu charged.
Their blades clashed, metal against metal, light against darkness.
Each strike shook the air, cracking the frozen ground beneath their feet.
Yue Shan was faster, stronger, more experienced. But Jian Wu refused to back down. Every attack came with the weight of everything he had lost.
"You think power without a core can defy heaven?" Yue Shan barked.
"You're just a mistake that refuses to die!"
Jian Wu's body trembled. Blood dripped from his lip. But his eyes burned.
"Then I'll be the mistake that rewrites heaven!"
The blue mark on his chest flared.
Light burst out, blinding the entire ridge. The snow melted in a wave of heat.
Yue Shan stumbled back, covering his eyes.
When the light faded, Jian Wu was gone.
Only a faint blue glow lingered in the air, humming softly, like a heartbeat echoing through the mountain.
---
Far below, Jian Wu collapsed near the base of a frozen waterfall. His hands shook. His vision blurred.
But he was alive.
Barely.
He looked up at the stars through the mist, and a tired smile
crossed his face.
"Guess… even heaven bleeds."
He closed his eyes.
And somewhere above the clouds, the heavens stirred.