The forest around Silvermist City always carried a low hum of life. Chirping crickets, rustling branches, the distant cry of a hawk. But tonight, Li Shen noticed something unnatural first—silence.
The air itself felt heavy, as though the trees held their breath.
He crouched beside a shallow stream, rinsing dried blood from his palm. His herb pouch was tied shut, filled with little more than low-grade healing grass. Not enough to mend shattered meridians, but enough to buy him time. His reflection stared back at him from the water's surface—sunken eyes, gaunt cheeks, the look of a man hollowed out by loss.
He rose slowly, every joint aching, and froze.
The forest wasn't breathing.
Every hair on his body prickled. His grip instinctively went to the shard hanging at his waist.
A low growl rumbled through the trees. Two golden orbs appeared in the darkness. Then a beast emerged, black as shadow, saliva dripping from its fangs. A Crimson-Eyed Shadow Wolf.
Li Shen's chest tightened. A first-rank spirit beast.
For a cripple like him, this was death.
The wolf crouched, muscles coiling. Then it pounced.
Li Shen threw himself aside, his ribs screaming as claws tore deep furrows in the earth where he had stood. The shard came up, jagged and pitiful in his grip.
The wolf lunged again. He swung desperately.
Clang!
A burst of blinding light exploded from the shard, carving a line across the wolf's flank. The beast howled, staggering back, blood spraying across the leaves.
Li Shen blinked in shock. That strength… it wasn't his. His meridians were shattered. His dantian crippled. He should not have been able to summon such force.
The wolf circled, hackles raised, its growl shaking the silence. Li Shen panted heavily, his vision blurred from exhaustion.
"Not here," he whispered hoarsely. "Not like this…"
The beast leapt once more. He braced himself, thrusting the shard forward. Again, it flared, sharper and deadlier than any mortal blade. The wolf shrieked as the shard pierced its throat, crashing lifelessly onto the dirt.
Li Shen collapsed to one knee, his chest heaving, sweat and blood mingling on his skin. His hands trembled as he stared at the shard, faint light pulsing like a heartbeat.
"What are you…?" he murmured.
"Impressive," a cold voice replied.
Li Shen stiffened.
Three figures stepped out from the shadows of the trees. Dressed in black, faces veiled, blades gleaming faintly beneath the moonlight. Their auras pressed down like suffocating chains.
Assassins.
Li Shen's breath hitched.
The leader tilted his head, voice dripping with contempt. "The cripple of the Li Clan. You should have died in the massacre. Yet here you are, clutching a broken toy, crawling like a rat."
The other two flanked him, spreading out to block escape routes. Their blades glinted, sharp as hunger.
Li Shen's grip tightened around the shard. His knees trembled, but he refused to lower his weapon.
The leader chuckled darkly. "Seven Peaks Sect fears you might crawl back to life. They sent us to ensure you don't."
The words slammed into Li Shen's chest like thunder. Seven Peaks Sect—the very sect that destroyed his clan. They hadn't just taken his family, his future. Now they sent killers to erase even his memory.
His breath quickened, but his eyes hardened. Fear gnawed at him, yet under it burned something hotter—rage.
If he died here, the Li Clan's story ended. If he fell, their screams would vanish into dust.
No. Even crippled, even broken, he would fight.
The assassins closed in.
"Li Shen," the leader sneered. "Your clan is gone. Your name means nothing. Tonight, you join them in the grave."
They lunged.
The shard flared with a furious light.
Steel clashed. Shadows burst apart.
Li Shen's arm trembled violently with every strike, pain lancing through his ruined body. Yet the shard cut sharper than steel, turning aside blades that should have ended him.
The first assassin slashed low—Li Shen twisted desperately, his ribs screaming. He countered, the shard carving across the man's arm. Blood sprayed.
The second attacker struck from behind. Li Shen barely raised his weapon in time. Sparks exploded as the shard deflected steel, light shattering the darkness. His knees buckled, but he refused to fall.
The leader watched, amused, eyes narrowing at the shard's glow. "Interesting. That fragment is no ordinary blade…"
His gaze darkened. "We'll take it from your corpse."
They surged together.
Li Shen's vision blurred. His chest burned, his limbs were lead. But each time his blade moved, light answered, stronger, sharper, fiercer.
The assassins faltered.
For the first time, their confident masks cracked.
"What is this thing?" one hissed.
Li Shen's lips curled into a bloodied smile. His voice was hoarse, but steady. "It's the blade you broke… and the one that will end you."
He struck.
The shard blazed like a falling star.
The leader blocked, but the impact hurled him back into a tree, splinters flying.
The other two staggered, blood dripping from fresh cuts.
Li Shen swayed, his strength failing. His breath was ragged, body torn. But his eyes burned with unyielding fire.
The leader rose slowly, wiping blood from his lips. His gaze was no longer mocking—it was cold, murderous.
"You've bought yourself a few breaths, cripple. Nothing more."
He raised his blade, his aura exploding like a storm.
The forest shook.
Li Shen's legs trembled, vision dimming, but he raised the shard once more.
Even broken, even dying—he would not kneel.
The assassins closed in again, blades glinting.
The shard pulsed violently, light threatening to burst free.
And then—
The ground trembled. A low hum echoed through the air, ancient, chilling. The assassins froze, their eyes widening.
The shard in Li Shen's grip shone like the heart of a star.
Something inside it… was waking.