The ground kept shaking, the aftershocks of the Nascent Soul beast's rampage radiating like waves over the broken battlefield. Golden Core practitioners who had been arrogant and untouchable mere moments ago were now wounded and red-stained, their formations broken. The beast roared, its hybrid body, a serpent's endless coils fused with the armored shell of a titan ape bled from an infinity of slashes but very far from defeated. Its oppressive aura engulfed the night sky, extinguishing all hope.
But then, light.
Dozen rays of light descended from the heavens, each draped in the weight of a pinnacle predator. Half-step Nascent Soul experts, Immortal Organization crème de la crème, their robes bearing ancient symbols of power. Their presence alone caused the beast to freeze mid-roar, their senses shrieking in alarm.
"Seal it," one of the Immortal veterans shouted, his voice booming with authority.
Golden lines of light etched into the earth as sealing arrays unfolded. The air was charged with runic power, casting a net that attempted to contain the abomination's movement. With every word spoken as an incantation, the world bent, holding back the beast's wild convulsing.
Nevertheless, it battled ferociously. One hasty swipe of its ape-arm split the ground asunder, almost shattering the seal. The serpent coils struck like whips, delivering shockwaves that pushed even Immortal primes to leap away.
The fight wasn't done yet. But the tide had shifted.
---
Vaen stood amidst the chaos, his sword fallen but his heart pounding. His Tenebris Energy still swirled around him in dark tendrils, an endless night that would not fade. The dark radiance clung to his frame, abnormal and unintelligible, drawing the eye of the Immortal Organization professionals.
"A nascent… no, unthinkable. That energy… who is this?" one breathed, gaze sharp and suspicious.
But for all their doubts, none could deny the facts they had seen him fight. They had seen him hold ground where golden core cultivators fell. The blind swordsman from the darkness had cut into a Nascent Soul beast. That was no easy feat.
Yu Rael stepped forward, her robes in shreds and covered in blood, yet still proudly standing. Her moonlight aura was weak, revealing that she was tired yet at the same time, refusing to yield. She spoke to the Immortal masters, her voice steady although her chest still heaved from the battle.
"He is with me," she said. "Vaen of Dravidian, he is my friend. My trusted one."
The experts exchanged glances. To be vouched for by the Saintess herself… no one could refute it. Still, more than one gaze lingered on Vaen, curiosity and wariness mingling in their eyes.
---
That night, the world was again covered in silence. The beast, bound and sealed, was taken by the Immortal elites. Campfires were burning in the camp, nursing the wounded, counting the dead. Morale in the caravan, while shaken, was still whole. They had emerged alive from the impossible.
But Vaen alone sat, on a rocky outcropping beneath the gigantic moon. His face-blind face reached up to the heavens, though he may not see its beauty. The moon's light stroked his white skin, and for the first time in many months, he felt the oppressive weight of mortality upon him.
If the mere animal at Nascent Soul had squeezed this much out of him, what then of the gods that they were supposed to defy? What then of the world itself?
His hand closed around his sword. The road ahead of them would be red and black. He knew.
"Vaen."
Her voice was soft, unsure.
He moved his head. Yu Rael rose to her feet, moonlight shining on her lean figure. She shivered not from exhaustion, but from something further in. Fear, fear of losing him.
Without a word, she stepped across the distance and fell against him, arms around his chest. Her breath came in jerky gasps, cheek against his shoulder.
"I thought… I thought you would die," she gasped, voice breaking. "If you left me there… if you were gone… I would…"
She couldn't talk. Her words choked off. She didn't have to.
She did not beg, did not ask, did not confess. For the first time, she simply said it with her body. Her heat, her shaking body, her desperate hold on him, it was a promise sufficient.
Vaen remained frozen, silent. And then, slowly, he raised his hand, rested it on her back. His fingers creased the fabric of her robe, holding her tight.
"I won't let you fall," he at last said, his tone level, firm, unshatterable.
And in that moment, beneath the silver light of the moon and the limitless night sky, their bond was formed. Not by the words of suitors or promises of what lay ahead, but by the shared fact, that they would walk this path together, however darkened or scarlet it would be.