The dark clouds rolled in thick and low, casting a deep gray shadow over the mountain town of Stonevale. The townspeople moved quickly, shutters slamming shut, merchants pulling in their wares. There was an unusual tension in the air—one not caused by weather alone.
Deep within the valley, Kael stood atop a windswept ledge, eyes fixed on the horizon. Behind him, Mei Lin adjusted the collar of her travel robe, her expression grim.
"They've caught wind of us," she said, her voice quiet beneath the howling wind.
Kael nodded. "The Ember Fang Sect wouldn't dare chase us this far north unless they're desperate. Or unless someone stronger gave them orders."
From below, the sound of galloping hooves and barking commands echoed. A column of crimson-clad cultivators was weaving its way toward Stonevale's outer gate.
"They're not coming to negotiate," Mei Lin said.
"No," Kael replied, stepping forward. "They're coming to make an example."
---
Inside the town walls, a small group of rogue cultivators stood ready—former sect disciples, mercenaries, and townsfolk with nowhere else to go. They looked to Kael not just as a fellow wanderer, but as a leader.
Kael raised his voice. "They want fear. We give them fury. No more hiding. No more running."
Mei Lin stood beside him, eyes fierce. "Let them learn that Stonevale is not theirs to burn."
Lightning cracked through the sky, and with a collective roar, Kael and the defenders moved to intercept the invading force.
And so, the storm began—not just of wind and rain, but of fate and fury.
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