At dawn, the village was quiet.
Too quiet.
Birdsong had vanished. The dogs did not bark. Even the air felt… wrong.
Shen stood on the training field, dressed in black, hands wrapped in linen. Ru Chen stood beside him, tense.
"I smell oil," Shen muttered.
"And blood," Ru Chen added.
That's when the screaming began.
The Demonhand Mercenaries
They descended like locusts—Scarred men with spiked armor, faces masked with bone-white paint, and weapons dripping with poison.
They rode dark horses and carried burning flags.
"In the name of Prince Xiyuan, purge this land!"
The villagers barely had time to cry out.
Fire caught the thatched roofs. Smoke filled the air.
Shen didn't hesitate.
He stepped forward—into the fire.
First Blood
A mercenary swung a blade at a woman carrying her child.
Before the blade could fall—Shen appeared in front of it.
CRACK.
His fist broke the sword in half.
"Touch one more innocent," he said coldly,"and I'll show you what kind of flame I am."
He didn't wait for a reply.
He moved, his body trailing heat.
In five seconds, three men were down—bones shattered, arms charred.
A Villager's Choice
Several villagers watched from hiding.
Old Man Bo gripped a hoe, sweat on his brow. "That boy's… saving us?"
"Didn't they say he was cursed?" whispered another.
Bo spat on the ground. "Cursed or not, he's our shield today."
With a roar, he charged into the field beside Shen.
Others followed.
Axes. Sickles. Farming tools.
And behind it all—Shen's burning fists.
Yueyin's Fury
On the northern wall, Yueyin faced off against a spear-wielding mercenary captain.
"You'll break like your little lover," he sneered.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You think I'm soft because I dance with fans?"
The spear came for her neck.
But in a blink, she twisted, flowed like water, and drove her fan—razor-sharp—into his throat.
He gargled, blood pouring.
"I dance in blood too," she whispered.
Ru Chen's Truth
Meanwhile, Ru Chen faced the final wave—ten elite mercenaries, all at Qi Consolidation stage.
He took a deep breath and drew his blade.
"Forgive me, Shen," he said,"for hiding who I really am."
He cut.
One stroke.
And ten men fell.
Eyes wide.
No sound.
"Ru Chen…" Shen muttered from afar."That technique…"
Ru Chen turned, eyes glowing faintly gold. "We'll talk later."
Aftermath
By evening, the mercenaries were routed.
Smoke lingered in the air. Ash fell like snow.
The villagers gathered around Shen—not with fear this time, but reverence.
Old Man Bo knelt. "I was wrong."
Shen looked down at him, expression unreadable.
Then he turned away. "This was only the beginning."
In the distance, a crow cawed—black wings blotting the twilight.