The mountain shuddered before dawn.
At first, it was subtle — a low, rolling tremor that rattled the lantern chains and sent ripples across the courtyard pools. Then came the crack, deep and wet, like bone snapping under an impossible weight. The bells never sounded. There was no time.
Mo Lianyin was already standing in the rain, sword drawn, when the outer wall gave way.
A flood of black-armored warriors poured through the breach, the crimson lotus stamped like a fresh wound on their breastplates. Behind them, cloaked warlocks chanted in slow, suffocating rhythm, their words frosting the air and bending the light around them.
From the upper walkway, Zevian vaulted down, landing beside her with a slash that severed an enemy helm clean in two. His eyes burned with urgency.
"They've brought an Abysstone Beast," he said. "If it reaches the Inner Gate—"
"It won't," she replied. Her tone was quiet, but something under it rang like steel on steel.
---
The Beast appeared moments later, its bulk dwarfing the defenders. It moved like a living fortress, each step sending a quake through the mountain path. Its hide was a mosaic of black crystal plates, edges glowing faintly with molten veins. Its eyes — if they could be called eyes — were pools of gold fire.
Arrows shattered against its armor. Blades barely scratched it. The Sect's finest formations broke against its legs like waves on a cliff.
The lotus inside her stirred, its voice a low, eager hum. This is the moment. Give me your breath, your blood, and I will break it.
Her grip tightened on her sword. She advanced.
---
She cut her way through the enemy ranks like wind through fallen leaves — fast, relentless, untouchable. Zevian was at her side at first, but her speed soon left him behind. Every movement felt inevitable, as though the battlefield was nothing more than a path laid out for her feet.
The Beast loomed ahead. She leapt, boots striking the jagged ridge of its shoulder armor. With a roar, she drove her sword into the seam between crystal plates, feeling the jolt travel up her arms.
The Beast howled, twisting violently. She lost her hold and hit the ground hard, the air exploding from her lungs.
More, the lotus whispered. Let me bloom fully.
She hesitated — until she heard him.
"Lianyin!"
Zevian's voice, sharp and desperate. She turned to see him locked with one of the warlock commanders. The man's staff burned crimson, each strike draining strength from Zevian's body. His knees were buckling.
If she went to him, the Beast would reach the gate. If she stayed, Zevian would fall.
Choose, the lotus murmured.
---
Her body chose for her. She was at Zevian's side in a heartbeat, severing the warlock's chanting mid-breath with a clean slash. Blood steamed in the rain.
Zevian staggered back, leaning on his blade. His expression was unreadable — relief tangled with something colder.
"You should've stayed on the Beast," he rasped.
"And watch you die?" she shot back.
His jaw tightened. "That's not the choice you think it is."
Before she could answer, the ground shook again. They turned to see the Beast just steps from the gate, its massive claw rising for the killing blow.
---
The lotus throbbed inside her, hot and bright. Give me everything. I will end this, and all it will cost is what remains of you.
Zevian stepped in front of her. "Don't," he said, voice low and fierce. "Once you open that door, there's no coming back."
Rain ran into her eyes. The Beast roared, gold fire spilling from its maw. She thought of the Sect, the Moon's Shadow Seal, the disciples who would be ash and bone if the gate fell. She thought of Zevian — still standing, still willing to fight something that could crush him with a single step.
She stepped past him.
"Lianyin—"
The lotus's petals unfurled in her mind, and the world went red.
---
She didn't remember moving. One breath she was on the rain-slick stone, the next she was on the Beast's back, blade sinking into crystal with impossible force. But it wasn't the steel that destroyed it — it was the lotus's bloom, a flare of crimson light that tore the Beast apart from within.
It collapsed in a storm of shards and black blood, the sound echoing like a temple bell across the battlefield.
---
When she came to, she was on her knees, her hands slick with blood she couldn't name. The lotus's warmth was no longer warmth — it was fire under her skin, burning everything that wasn't power.
Zevian was there, pulling her upright, his face pale. "What did you do?"
"I… saved us," she said, but even she could hear the hollowness in the words.
His gaze searched hers, and she knew he saw it — the way her eyes no longer entirely belonged to her.
"You didn't save yourself," he said softly.
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
Because deep inside, the lotus was still whispering — and she could feel it now, speaking not to her, but through her.