Rain lashed the tombstones as Isshin slowly opened his eyes. All of it felt groggy at first, as if he had woken from an indefinitely long, bottomless sleep. But the sensation wasn't new—once, he had felt that same thing back at the cave when his body had been pushed beyond its limits. Luck had carried him through then. This time, his body should have been destroyed for life.
He clenched his fists. His face remained calm, unreadable, betraying no emotion. "Raijin," he said quietly, his voice low, almost mechanical. "What happened? Be serious."
Raijin, the spirit of thunder he carried within him, stopped. "I… I don't know, Isshin. That shouldn't have happened. I do not know it either."
Isshin let out a low, exasperated groan but did not speak again. He looked at his hands, and then at the simply marked grave of "Here lies Isshin". The rain had hidden part of the churned-up ground, so it looked untouched. He didn't dawdle and left the grave as they found it, spotless, the soil blending effortlessly under the storm.
Standing up straight, Isshin adjusted his hood over his face and put on his ubiquitous mask. He looked around at the horizon. "N-W. I require isolation. A place that I can train," he grumbled, as if speaking to himself.
Raijin replied at once, recognizing the resolve in Isshin's voice. "I have seen a place. A long-lost ancient mountain. There, cultivators flourished years ago, yet time and environment have obscured it. Foliage-covered forests protect the path—one can lose their way, yet I can show your way."
Isshin nodded without speaking. He showed no expression on his face, but his thoughts ran quickly with schemes. Under the direction of Raijin, he walked through the thick, winding forest, where twisting roots and climbing vines appeared hell-bent on preventing one from getting anywhere near the mountain. Its safe traversal belonged to those with experience—or otherworldly leadership.
—,
Rune, on the other hand, opened the creaky door of the deteriorated house. Cobwebs and grime stuck to every nook, the musty air harboring the smell of deterioration. Light from the sun broke from slits between wooden shutters, outlining the pale silhouette of abandoned objects. Rune proceeded with slow steps, examining the floorboards and walls.
Half-fallen from its stands lay a scattered heap of papers and instruments, yet an envelope, yellow and frayed, attracted his notice. He picked it up with slow intention.
"I apologize. I had nothing else to do besides going back. They found me earlier. God forgive me for causing so much damage, but hope you make it, Rune — Vel."
Rune's fists gripped the letter, the paper crumbling between his fingers. He set his jaw, unspoken. He left the house without comment, the rain now soaking him as he trudged back into the city.
It was silent on the streets, except for one bar ahead that attracted his notice. He went inside, and warm lighting and loud laughter opposed the cold outside air. Rune sat down on a stool, and he ordered drink after drink, observing hours slip away as the crowd decreased around him. When the bar started to get empty, he looked intoxicated
"Stop acting like you got drunk. It's pineapple juice, you crazy bastard," the bartender said, chuckling and shaking his head. Rune said nothing. He instead questioned, "Did anything come from Vel, Ross?"
The bartender went blank for a second. "She told you that you should achieve a higher path on cultivation and come back in ten years. It has only been one. You are crazy."
Rune hesitated, the burden of how much he meant to say restraining him. "The thing is…" He didn't say more, but he didn't think he was stretching the point.
—E
Much further east, Karin practiced the flying technique for seven days. every part of her body hurt, yet there was progress—her qi reacted better now than it did before, and there were dim wings in the mind's eye.
It was chaos at the Heavenly Demon Sect, however. A group of elder sect members who longed for power with the Heavenly Demon in isolation had caused outrage among outer disciples, alleging that the princess had been kidnapped. Guardians and loyal elder sect members protested energetically, their voices carrying down the corridors.
"You traitors! You dare attempt to seize control under false pretenses?" one loyal elder shouted, his robes billowing as he drew his sword.
"False? We protect the future of the sect! She is a hostage, a symbol of the old guard's weakness!" a rebel elder bellowed, raising his hand to strike.
The sect erupted into a cacophony of shouts, swords drawn, qi crackling in the air like storm clouds ready to burst.
"Enough!" another elder shouted, trying to mediate, but the tension only escalated.
"Traitors of the sect shall die!" one of the rebels roared, charging forward with a group of outer disciples, their swords gleaming, qi flaring like fire.
Before the first clash could occur, a streak of light tore across the sky above the courtyard. All combatants froze, eyes wide. The figure moved too fast to follow, casting a long shadow over the battleground. The wind howled as the presence swept over the assembly, leaving everyone questioning what they saw