The clash began like thunder.
Kael's blade met the first Ember Fang cultivator mid-leap, sending a fiery shockwave across the cobbled road. Sparks danced in the air as steel rang against spirit-forged weapons. The street turned battlefield, and Stonevale's walls trembled under the weight of fury.
Mei Lin whirled into motion, her twin fans slicing through flame and smoke. Her movements were poetry—sharp, precise, untamed. Every motion screamed defiance. Her Qi danced in icy arcs, snuffing out fire with elegance and force.
Kael pushed forward. His dantian roared awake as the Fallen Root surged through him. The power was raw, barely restrained—a forbidden cultivation path most feared. Yet here, in this battle, it became his strength.
With a burst of speed, he launched toward the Ember Fang commander—a man cloaked in fire-tinted armor with eyes like burning coals.
"You should've stayed in the shadows, boy," the commander growled.
Kael smiled grimly. "You should've stayed in your sect."
They collided. Qi exploded in all directions. The world narrowed to flame, earth, will, and grit.
---
On the rooftops, one of the rogue cultivators—a former scout—watched in awe.
"That's not a normal technique," he muttered. "What is that power…?"
Mei Lin glanced up between movements. "That," she said, breathless but proud, "is the storm they tried to bury. But roots run deep."
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