In a chamber swallowed by a dark void, Han Juan Hao sat drinking wine with a handful of his most loyal followers. His eyes burned with an unquenchable fire. Suddenly, he slammed his cup against the floor; it shattered into a thousand shards, splattering wine in every direction. Han Juan Hao hissed, his voice trembling with suppressed rage:

  "Lianxiao Clan, Lianxiao Clan, Lianxiao Clan! If I hear that name uttered one more time, I will have the tongue ripped from the speaker's mouth. They are not as magnificent as they portray themselves to be."

  One follower, emboldened by the wine, spoke up:

  "But Great Clan Father, you forget... they possess the most formidable power in the world: the Zhangwu Pillars. As long as they stand, the Lianxiao Clan remains supreme. They cannot be defeated even in one’s dreams. So, what title of grandeur are you envisioning, and"

  Before the sentence could be finished, a strike as swift as a lightning bolt cut through his throat. The follower’s body collapsed, eyes wide and mouth agape in a final, silent protest. The other followers offered no reaction; they acted as if nothing had occurred, continuing to refill their cups and drink. Han Juan Hao wiped the blood from his blade as he sat back down.

  "If anyone else wishes to offer praise, feel free to speak without hesitation," he said coldly.

  Silence fell. No one dared. Finally, one man spoke in a sharp, calculated voice:

  "Master. If I may be permitted, I wish to say something."

  Han Juan Hao scrutinized him before nodding. The man continued:

  "Master, every lock has a key. Every road has a destination. Likewise, every power has a weakness. Though the Lianxiao Clan is mighty, there is one thing that can burn it from the inside out."

  Han Juan Hao’s eyes sharpened. He gestured for him to continue. The man offered a thin, crooked smile and began to detail his plan. By the end, a cruel smirk played on Han Juan Hao's lips.

  "Then why wait? Let it be done."

  Even as the corpse of their comrade lay beside them, blood still seeping from his neck, the three men began to celebrate their coming victory. It was as if they were preparing for the summer heat before the winter had even arrived.

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  In a desolate, hushed region where trees were sparse and only dry grass swayed, the lush forest near the river felt like a distant memory. Gu Zong walked forward, eyes still heavy with pain, until he reached a graveyard the resting place of his parents. Han Wuang Shi followed behind him, his eyes fixed on the path in a quiet trance.

  As Gu Zong approached the graves, he drove his sword into the earth at his feet. He turned back toward Wuang Shi, his eyes blazing.

  "Do not dare to step past this blade, or I will kill you."

  With that, he stepped onto the barren ground. Wuang Shi remained exactly where he was, standing as still as a stone monument. Gu Zong knelt by his parents' grave. This time, his eyes wept not for his own wounds, but for the bodies buried beneath the soil who were there, yet gone.

  "Forgive me, Mother," Gu Zong whispered, trembling. "I have failed to bring flowers again. But I am bound by my word. I promised Father that until I build a grave for his killer, I will not lay flowers upon yours. But Mother, forgive me for leaving Senior Sister behind. I do not want her to suffer the consequences of my dark path. My life is already ruined, but I will not let the lives of Senior Sister and Zhuang Hue be destroyed. This is my promise to you."

  Unbeknownst to Gu Zong, Wuang Shi heard every word. He said nothing. He thought nothing. It was as if his capacity for thought had been cauterized. He turned to leave, but suddenly, those black shadows manifested before him. Because the red silk band was still tied to his wrist, he was still within the trial.

  Two shadows lunged. Wuang Shi

  defended himself, though his movements were sluggish and pained. He had learned that strikes and mantras only fueled them, yet he struggled to find another way.

  Gu Zong saw the struggle. His first instinct was to leave Wuang Shi to his fate, but as he moved away, he looked back. Wuang Shi was too wounded to fight. As Wuang Shi tripped over a rock and began to fall, glowing threads suddenly snared him, halting his descent. The threads originated from Gu Zong’s fingers.

  Before the shadows could strike again, Gu Zong yanked the threads, pulling Wuang Shi toward him. When Wuang Shi landed beside him, Gu Zong spoke with startling clarity:

  "These are shadows of fear. They are a part of your own internal terror. Focus on your fear. The more you understand it, the weaker they become. Stay calm. They only mimic your own aggression. Face what you are afraid of."

  Hearing this, Wuang Shi closed his eyes and entered a meditative state right there. Gu Zong expected the shadows to stop, but instead, they swarmed him. Forced into combat, Gu Zong used his hand-to-hand techniques and thread mantras to fend them off. He was baffled why had the shadows ignored him when he meditated earlier, but were attacking him now?

  Before he could find an answer, the shadows abruptly vanished. At that precise moment, the red band on Han Wuang Shi’s wrist unraveled and fell to the ground. Wuang Shi remained still, his eyes closed, but silent tears began to track down his face.

  For a long, suspended moment, Gu Zong stared at Wuang Shi’s tranquil, weeping face. He was beginning to understand something, a realization forming in the back of his mind, but he was not yet ready to accept the conclusion.