The scent of ash drifted long before the flames were seen.
Lin Yuan emerged from the shadow of the northern woods to behold a valley scorched into ruin. The ground shimmered with fading qi residue — crimson fire, heavy with killing intent.
The Sect of Crimson Flames had clashed here only hours ago. The battlefield still breathed with heat. Fallen banners lay buried beneath charred soil; shattered blades glowed faintly in the dim light of dusk.
Lin Yuan walked among the remains in silence. Every step crunched against cinders. His spiritual sense reached outward, tracing faint signatures of power that lingered — a storm of rage and fire-qi that had devoured everything in its path.
He knelt, fingers brushing against a melted talisman. The symbol was complex — a lotus wrapped in fire.
"Crimson Lotus Alliance…"
He had heard the name whispered in the pagoda's echoes — a sect forged from those who believed enlightenment lay through destruction, not restraint.
A gust of wind stirred the smoke.
Then, from within the haze, came a sound — a low hum, rhythmic, sharp. Someone was chanting a fire incantation.
Lin Yuan rose.
A flash of red burst through the smoke.
A woman appeared — armor scorched, blade aflame, her crimson robes torn at the shoulder. Her long hair whipped in the heat, eyes like molten gold.
She pointed her sword at him instantly. "Who are you?"
Lin Yuan didn't move. "A traveler."
"Liar," she spat. "Only corpses and vultures wander battlefields."
The flames around her sword flared, forming a serpent of fire that lunged forward. Lin Yuan sidestepped; the serpent struck the ground, exploding into sparks.
He drew his blade halfway — the steel glimmered faintly with mirrored light. "I have no quarrel with you."
"Then leave. Now."
But the forest behind them erupted with a guttural roar — deep and heavy, like mountains splitting.
Both turned as the earth trembled. From the far ridge, a swarm of dark shapes crawled forth — spirit beasts, twisted by battle qi, their bodies half-shadow, half-flame.
The woman cursed softly. "Residual rage… they've absorbed the fallen's essence."
The beasts descended, dozens of them — molten wolves, ash-scaled boars, and a monstrous vulture trailing black smoke.
Without speaking, Lin Yuan drew his sword fully. His qi spiraled, forming silver ripples that cut through the air.
The woman cast him a quick glare. "Don't get in my way."
"I could say the same."
The first wave hit.
The vulture swooped down, talons sharp as blades. Lin Yuan leapt, twisting midair, slicing across its wing — mirrored light flashing as feathers scattered like shards of glass. Below, the woman thrust her flaming sword into the earth; fire surged outward in a blooming circle, engulfing the charging beasts.
Explosions rocked the valley.
Through the haze, Lin Yuan's silhouette moved with perfect calm — every step a strike, every swing a reflection of stillness.
When the smoke cleared, a dozen beasts lay disintegrating into ash. But more came — the corruption feeding on itself, reforming from the bodies of the slain.
The woman growled, sweat streaking down her brow. "Their qi won't disperse — it's bound by the storm sigils."
Lin Yuan sheathed his blade. "Then burn their anchor."
She turned to him, startled. "Anchor?"
He pointed upward — to a cluster of floating runes burning faintly in the sky, feeding threads of qi into the beasts. "They're bound to the sect's defensive array."
Realization dawned in her eyes. "Then help me reach it."
They moved as one.
Lin Yuan gathered air qi beneath his feet, launching upward as the woman channeled fire into a spiraling pillar. Together they pierced the smoky sky — two streaks of light crossing paths.
At the apex, Lin Yuan extended his hand; the mirror qi spread outward, bending light itself, revealing the core sigil hidden within the air.
The woman roared, her sword blazing with white flame, and together they struck.
The explosion split the sky — crimson and silver intertwining.
Below, the beasts howled once before dissolving into light, the valley falling silent.
When they landed, the woman dropped to one knee, panting. Her blade cracked from the overload. Lin Yuan approached quietly, offering a hand.
She looked up, eyes fierce even in exhaustion. "You… you don't fight like a sect disciple."
"I'm not one," he said. "Not anymore."
A pause. Then, reluctantly, she took his hand.
As he helped her up, she studied him — calm, steady, unreadable. "You have no emblem, no sect markings, yet your qi flows like a river through glass. What path do you walk?"
"The path that listens before it strikes," he replied.
She gave a faint smirk. "Philosopher type. Great — those always die first."
Lin Yuan smiled slightly. "You can call me Lin Yuan."
"Yan Fei," she said after a moment. "Crimson Lotus Alliance. Or what's left of it."
Her eyes hardened. "If you're heading north, you'll find only war. The Empyrean Clans have begun their purges."
He turned toward the horizon. "Then I suppose I'll find what's worth saving among the ashes."
Yan Fei sheathed her cracked sword. "You're either brave or foolish."
"Maybe both."
The two stood in silence as the sun sank behind the mountains, painting the valley in firelight.
Yan Fei glanced sideways. "You helped me. That makes us even. But if we meet again on opposite sides—"
Lin Yuan nodded. "Then the fire will decide."
They parted ways at dusk — her figure fading into the crimson haze, his silhouette walking toward the northern peaks where storms brewed.
Yet neither looked back, though both felt the same weight in the air —
that their paths were now bound, however fate chose to weave them.