Steel rang through the shrine.
Shen dodged low as the assassin's curved blade tore through the wind — faster than a cobra, silent as regret.
The shrine's sacred air bent unnaturally, caught between the Guardian's sealed breath and the presence of death.
"The Crown Prince sent his best," Shen thought grimly."He's afraid now."
The assassin grinned under his veil.
"Li Ren says hello, little ghost.""You should've stayed buried."
Shen blocked with his blade — but the impact shuddered through his arms. This wasn't an ordinary killer.
"You're from the Red Veil Unit," Shen said."Imperial Ghosts."
The assassin laughed.
"And you're a walking scandal with a stolen legacy."
He lunged again.
They clashed — flame and water, shadow and breath.
Shen fought calmly, each movement efficient. But the assassin… fought like someone with a score to settle.
A scar appeared across Shen's cheek.
Another strike grazed his ribs.
"He's reading me too well…"
Then he saw it.
The assassin's stance.
"That's… my stance."
Suddenly, Shen understood.
His opponent wasn't just a soldier.
He was trained in the same forgotten art.
The same martial flow Shen had uncovered in silent corners of the palace.
The style passed down from the Vanished Prince.
"Then you're not just a killer," Shen said."You're my brother's hound… or my twin's echo."
A pause.
For the first time, the assassin hesitated.
"Your twin?" he repeated.
Then — a flicker of doubt.
Just enough.
Shen struck.
Palm to the ribs.Blade to the scarf.Veil — torn.
The assassin fell back, blood dripping.
And Shen saw his face clearly.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
"…We trained together," Shen realized."Not in this life. But another."
Before he could say more, a sudden pulse of wind surged through the shrine.
The Guardian had risen.
Eyes glowing, breath like a storm.
"The seal," he said. "It breaks when blood meets blood."
He raised a single hand.
Wind spun around his fingers — not air, but memory turned force.
He pressed two fingers to Shen's forehead.
"Inherit."
A vision burst into Shen's mind.
A battlefield.A fallen army.The Vanished Prince kneeling before seven warriors — each offering their soul-art.And Lei Cheng whispering, "Only one may wield the Windlock without madness…"
Shen gasped.
The shrine exploded with rushing wind.
The assassin was thrown back, slammed into the stone.
Unconscious.
Shen stood upright — his eyes now flickering faint silver.
The first legacy had awakened.
Lei Cheng collapsed to his knees.
Breathing… finally ended.
He looked at Shen with peace.
"You found me," he whispered."You carry him."
Then, as dust settled, the old Guardian crumbled — turning to ash, his duty fulfilled.
And Shen stood alone.
Not just a shadow anymore.
A bearer of the first key.