The spirit hawk was not bred for stealth, but Yue Lian rode it as though silence were a prayer she wove into its feathers.
Midnight winds howled across the east cliffs, tearing at her robes. Below, the Southern Archive Sect slept beneath wards etched in sacred calligraphy. Lin Huo sat behind her, sword at the ready, one hand pressed to the hawk's spine, keeping it cloaked with a weak concealment talisman that sputtered with strain.
"If we fly any higher," he muttered, "we'll breach the Celestial Net."
Yue Lian didn't respond. Her gaze was fixed forward, on the black ribbon of the horizon where mountains cut through clouds like ancient swords. Her hand clenched around the jade slip tucked in her robes—the one that proved Yan Zhuo had not been a tyrant, but a martyr.
Below them, a cry shattered the stillness.
A flash of silver lightning tore the sky as the Silver Judge rose into view, riding a blade longer than a carriage and twice as fast. He flew with the fury of a righteous star, trailing chains of judgment that hissed through the clouds.
"Hold on!" Lin Huo yelled, and the spirit hawk dived.
At the same time, back at the Southern Archive Sect, Elder Guan stood on the steps of the Hall of Silent Petition. Alone now. The elders had dispersed. The vote had been cast. But doubt clung to him like ash on his soul.
He glanced to the side.
A young disciple approached—one of the Archive scribes. "Elder Guan, a courier from the Eastern Reaches just arrived. He carried this. Said it was urgent."
Guan opened the message.
His hands began to tremble.
Another jade slip. From a different survivor. The same story. The same truth.
He looked up at the sky where judgment lights flared. He whispered, "We've made a grave mistake."
The chase above the cliffs became a duel of breath and will. The Silver Judge unleashed a barrage of spell-sealed talismans. Each one detonated with purifying Qi meant to stun or kill. Yue Lian's hawk twisted through them, feathers catching fire, wings shrieking.
"We're losing altitude!" Lin Huo shouted.
Yue Lian raised her brush—not for writing, but for combat. She etched a sigil into the air, calling forth a barrier script. A luminous shield bloomed behind them, catching a bolt of judgment just before it reached their backs.
The recoil sent them spinning.
The spirit hawk, panicked, shrieked and dove.
They crashed into a grove of spirit pines, tumbling through branches, breaking charms and bark. The hawk vanished in a burst of spiritual light, returning to its talisman form. Lin Huo rolled to his feet, coughing.
Yue Lian lay dazed, blood in her mouth. Her brush was still in her hand.
The Judge descended.
He stepped through the grove like a god from a forgotten scripture, eyes hidden beneath a helm, aura burning white.
"Yue Lian of the Southern Archive Sect. You are accused of disseminating heretical material, conspiring with outlawed spirits, and defaming the Celestial Verdict."
She stood.
Her voice was cracked but defiant. "The Verdict was a lie. Yan Zhuo was innocent."
"You have no authority to judge the past."
"And you have no right to kill the future."
He raised his blade. Lin Huo stepped between them.
"She carries the truth. If you silence her, you only prove she's right."
The Silver Judge hesitated. A flicker of doubt passed through his aura—so faint, it might've been a trick of the wind.
A roar.
From behind the Judge, the grove erupted.
Shuang leapt forth, grown enormous—three times its size, eyes glowing like twin suns. It struck with a cry that shook trees. The Judge's blade met claws in a burst of spiritual pressure.
"Run!" Lin Huo shouted.
Yue Lian turned and fled.
By dawn, news spread like wildfire.
A disciple had defied the Sect. A Silver Judge had drawn steel against a girl. And the Crimson Tyrant's name was once again spoken—this time not with hatred, but with doubt.
In hidden corners of the continent, old warriors stirred.
In the Celestial Archives, restricted records began to shimmer—reacting to forgotten truths.
And in a sealed cavern beneath a mountain that no map marked, a coffin inscribed with blood and talisman chains trembled.
Yan Zhuo's eyes opened.