The next few days passed in tense silence.
Fan Ling trained from dawn until the stars returned, pushing his body until his hands trembled and his breath turned ragged. Every swing of his sword left faint sparks of red energy dancing through the air—unpredictable, unstable, wild.
Jeff watched him from a rock nearby, half in awe, half in worry.
"Bro, are you sure you're not gonna blow up again?" he called out.
Fan Ling wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled slowly. "If I stop now, I'll never be able to face it."
"Face what? The demon? Or yourself?"
Fan Ling paused, the question cutting deeper than Jeff expected. "Both," he said quietly.
---
His uncle stood at a distance, observing every move. "Your chaos energy still leaks," he said. "You must balance your intent. Chaos feeds on emotion—rage, sorrow, fear. You control none of them."
Fan Ling closed his eyes. Inside his mind, the dark sea of his consciousness churned again. He saw flashes—his childhood, the village burning, the chains that once sealed him.
For a moment, he felt the demon's voice whisper:
> "You and I are one. Stop pretending to be human."
Fan Ling opened his eyes, shouting, "I am human!" and unleashed a slash that ripped a scar across the ground, glowing with dark crimson light.
Jeff nearly fell off his rock. "Okay, maybe don't yell next time when I'm this close!"
The uncle sighed but smiled faintly. "At least he's learning to direct it."
---
That night, they rested beneath the stars again. Jeff roasted something that looked like rabbit but smelled suspiciously like lizard.
"So," Jeff said between bites, "you really don't remember what the demon wanted?"
Fan Ling shook his head. "Only fragments. It said something about chains… about being sealed by heaven itself."
Jeff's eyes glimmered with curiosity. "Chains, huh? Maybe that's why your chaos is different. It's not evil—it's bound."
Before Fan Ling could answer, a sudden wind swept across the mountain.
The fire flickered out.
Both of them looked up.
High above the clouds, a red sigil formed—massive, glowing, ancient.
---
Far away, beneath the ruins of an old empire, a woman knelt before the robed figure we saw before. Her eyes were covered with a strip of cloth, but her aura burned faintly violet.
"My lord," she said, "the chain seal has broken. The host's energy has reached the threshold."
The black-robed figure raised his hand, and a mirror of obsidian light formed before him, revealing Fan Ling on the mountain.
"Found you," the figure whispered. "The Heir of Chaos… reborn under mortal flesh. Prepare the hunters. We move at dawn."
---
Back on the mountain, Jeff felt a chill crawl up his neck.
"Ling… did you feel that?"
Fan Ling nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the sigil in the sky.
"Yeah. Someone just found me."
His uncle stepped forward, eyes glowing faintly with ancient energy. "Then we move before they do. If the cult of chaos has returned, this mountain is no longer safe."
Jeff grabbed his pack and muttered, "Great. From fire demons to cults. What's next, an undead chicken army?"
Fan Ling almost laughed, though his hands trembled. "Whatever comes next," he said, tightening his grip on his sword, "I'll face it head-on. No more running."
As they descended the mountain path, thunder rolled again—this time not from nature, but from destiny itself.
The hunt had begun.