Li Shen moved through the forest like a phantom. The storm had passed, leaving behind a sodden hush — trees dripping with silver droplets, mist coiling around gnarled roots like slithering ghosts.
Every step he took sent a dull ache through his bones. His wounds throbbed with each heartbeat, but the pain no longer weakened him — it sang in his veins, stoking the strange new warmth in his dantian.
Pain is power, Ku Mo's whisper coiled in his skull. Embrace it, boy. It is the cost of your rise.
A branch cracked in the darkness ahead.
Li Shen froze, crouching low. He pushed his senses outward — just as Ku Mo had murmured in the hours since the slaughter. He could feel it now: a subtle vibration in the air, a warmth against his skin — the living pulse of Qi.
Two figures. Breathing shallow. Steel glinting beneath cloaks.
Bandits? Cultivators? Hunters?
Li Shen crept closer, silent as the mist. Through a tangle of underbrush, he saw them — a girl and a boy, maybe a few years older than him. Their clothes were travel-worn but fine, marked with a silver crescent moon on the shoulder.
Moon Sect, the voice hissed. Heaven's lapdogs.
The boy had a spear slung across his back. The girl knelt by a shallow stream, washing blood from her sleeve. Her long black hair spilled down her back like midnight silk. Even in the half-light, Li Shen could see her eyes — bright, sharp, flicking toward every shadow.
He stepped on a branch. The crack echoed like thunder.
In an instant, the boy drew his spear, spinning toward the sound. The girl rose, one hand slipping inside her sleeve — for a talisman, a hidden blade, Li Shen couldn't tell.
"Who goes there?" the boy barked, voice low but firm.
Li Shen stepped from the underbrush, mud and rain clinging to his ragged clothes. He held up empty hands — though every instinct screamed at him to grip his sword hilt tight.
"I don't want trouble," Li Shen rasped. "I'm just passing through."
The boy's eyes narrowed, taking in the dried blood on Li Shen's clothes, the haunted gleam in his red-tinged eyes.
"You're wounded," the girl said, her voice calm but carrying an edge sharper than steel. "And alone. Which band do you serve?"
Li Shen's jaw clenched. "I serve no one."
"Liar," the boy spat. He lowered the spear's tip toward Li Shen's chest. "This region crawls with outlaws — and your scent is blood and smoke."
Li Shen's eyes flicked to the girl. For the briefest moment, their gazes locked — hers cool and calculating, his burning with something raw and hungry.
Kill them, Ku Mo murmured. Their Qi is strong. Their fear will feed you.
Li Shen flinched at the whisper. He clenched his fists, fighting the Codex's pull.
"Please," he said. "I just want to pass."
The girl watched him in silence — and then, to the boy's surprise, she raised a hand, lowering his spear.
"Let him be, Zhi." Her eyes never left Li Shen's face. "He's no threat."
"He reeks of slaughter—"
"He reeks of desperation," she corrected softly. She stepped forward, close enough that Li Shen could see the faint mark of a crescent moon branded on the back of her neck.
"Your name," she said.
Li Shen hesitated. His throat felt dry as ash. "Li… Shen."
"A village boy?" Her tone was gentle — but her eyes were knives, peeling back his soul. "There's nothing but corpses for miles. What are you running from, Li Shen?"
Li Shen's vision flickered — flames, blood, screams. He could still feel the Codex's burning script inside him, coiled like a serpent.
"I'm hunting," he whispered.
The boy scoffed. "Hunting what? Rabbits?"
Li Shen's eyes lifted — red embers in the dark.
"Vengeance."
A hush fell over the forest. The girl tilted her head, studying him like one might study a wounded beast that might bite the hand that fed it.
Finally, she nodded. "Then you'd best learn to stay alive first."
She reached into her satchel and tossed something at his feet — a small clay bottle, sealed with wax.
"Heal your wounds," she said. "Or your hunt will end before it begins."
Li Shen stared at it, then at her. "Why help me?"
For the first time, the girl's cool mask cracked. A flicker of something — pity, sorrow, or perhaps something far more dangerous — crossed her eyes.
"Because the world has enough corpses," she said softly. "Don't become another."
She turned and walked into the mist. The boy glared at Li Shen, spit on the ground, and followed her.
When their footsteps faded, Li Shen knelt, picked up the bottle, and turned it in his hands.
Foolish girl, Ku Mo hissed. Mercy is weakness. She will regret sparing you when her blood coats your blade.
Li Shen didn't answer. He pulled the stopper and swallowed the bitter tonic in one burning gulp.
High above, the moon broke through the drifting clouds — silver light spilling across the dark forest floor.
And for the first time since Ashvale burned, Li Shen closed his eyes… and dreamed of tomorrow.
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⚡ End of Chapter Three
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