The Xinjing Valley was silent.
Blood had dried on the rocks. Lifeless bodies lay scattered—as if the war had just ended, yet fear still lingered in the air.
Inside a hidden cave, the temporary base of the Dark Blood faction, Ci Jheon stood before a large map. His eyes were sharp, his jaw clenched.
"This won't be easy…" he muttered, his voice heavy with worry. "I believe… Cheon Ji has sent Mo Tian."
Mu Whon stood behind him, arms crossed. "Mo Tian is cunning. He can see a movement before the shadow even forms. We don't know where he is… but I'm certain he's been watching us from the beginning."
Kim Jheon Mo added, "His aura leaves no trace. Like smoke on water."
Ci Jheon nodded. "Very well. Proceed as planned. We can't wait any longer."
He turned to the two of them.
"Send the letter to Cheon Ji. Make sure—it includes a fragment of Mo Tian's energy. Just a little… enough to convince him."
The two bowed. "It's ready, Lord Ci Jheon. The bait will draw him out."
Ci Jheon looked up at the mist-covered sky above the valley.
"This game isn't over. We'll burn the old world… and force Cheon Ji to choose—blood, or destruction."
---
On the western edge of the valley.
Lu Zhou sat leaning against a large boulder. His robe was torn, his body covered in wounds, and his eyes stared blankly at the gray sky.
Inside him, the war wasn't over—not between sects, but between regret… and vengeance.
Footsteps approached. Mu Whon stood before him, silent for a moment before speaking,
"Lu Zhou. Come with us. You must return to the Alliance."
Lu Zhou said nothing. Only the wind answered, rustling through his unkempt hair.
Mu Whon continued,
"Tell them your unit was attacked by the Demon Fire Sect. Don't mention us. Don't mention this valley."
Lu Zhou turned to him. His gaze was hollow. "What for? There's nothing left. The Alliance… is shattered. So is my heart."
"It's not over yet," Mu Whon said coldly. "If you want revenge… this is the way. Endure. Live. Lie if you must."
Lu Zhou fell silent. Then slowly, he stood. His body trembled, but there was a faint spark burning in his eyes.
Kim Jheon Mo approached and handed him a split dragon-shaped pendant of metal.
"Proof… and a reason to survive," he said simply.
Lu Zhou clenched the pendant in his fist. No more tears. No more doubt.
---
Far to the north, the Main Pavilion of Tianyin.
High among the clouds, Cheon Ji sat alone in the leader's chamber, gazing out the wide window. The setting sun painted the sky orange. A white dove landed, carrying a dark-sealed letter. Its aura was faint—but familiar.
Cheon Ji opened the letter.
His eyes scanned it quickly. But after the third line, his expression changed drastically.
> Greetings, Master.
I've uncovered the truth. The Demon Fire Sect is a mask of Dark Blood.
They're the ones who destroyed the Alliance.
Da Zhong, Pen Aiyu, Chen Tiamo… have fallen.
I await you here.
Come with those who remain.
Together, we will erase the darkness.
—Mo Tian
The letter slipped from his hand.
His hand trembled. His breathing grew uneven.
"Da Zhong… Pen Aiyu… Chen Tiamo…" he whispered. "Three wings… gone…"
He slammed the table before him, cracking it.
"Yan Zhian!! You utter fool!!"
Spiritual energy burst out, shaking the room. The elders outside could only lower their heads. They knew—peaceful days were over.
Cheon Ji stood. His steps were heavy as he approached the window.
"Summon all who remain," he said coldly. "We move west. If this is a trap… I'll burn the entire valley to the ground."
He closed his eyes. In his mind, Mo Tian stood in the mist… waiting.
Caught between betrayal and truth.