The first pale light of dawn barely touched the mansion's spires, casting long, thin shadows across the frost-laden grounds. Inside, the mansion's halls were quiet, save for the muted footsteps of Shen Rui'an as he followed behind Ethan who carried Zhao Lengxuan—Leon—through a concealed corridor to a hidden room in the northern wing.
Most of the disciples didn't even know this room existed. It was small but immaculate: shelves lined with jars of carefully prepared herbs, a soft bed-like surface at the center, and faintly glowing runes etched into the walls. A sanctuary, a place where healing could happen undisturbed, and Shen Rui'an's expertise could be fully applied.
"Place him here," Shen Rui'an instructed calmly, motioning toward the bed. Leon was laid down gently, still trembling, his breathing shallow and fragile. Every inch of his body radiated exhaustion and pain.
Shen Rui'an bent, placing a hand just above Leon's wound. His light energy, warm and golden, flowed into the frozen, injured flesh. The frost Logan had applied to stabilize Leon had done its job, but now it needed to be removed so that proper healing could take place. The ice melted under Shen Rui'an's power, and Leon shivered violently as warmth began to flow back into him.
"Stay still," Shen Rui'an murmured, his voice steady, commanding, and gentle all at once. He crushed several pills into a fine powder and pressed it into Leon's lips. At first, Leon instinctively resisted, his body trembling with the effort, but Shen Rui'an's hands were steady, his focus unyielding. The medicine slid down smoothly, settling into his system.
In the corner, Yun Qiaolan moved quietly, tending a small cauldron where a potent herbal mixture boiled. Shen Rui'an gestured toward the steaming liquid, and Yun carefully fed it to Leon through a ladle. The fragrant steam mingled with the faint, golden glow from Shen Rui'an's energy, filling the room with a sense of calm urgency.
Leon's breathing evened. His color, once pallid and almost translucent, began to return, though faint traces of blue still lingered on his lips. His eyes, once half-lidded and weary, began to flicker with life. Slowly, painfully, he opened them. Gray, clear, but weary—they met Shen Rui'an's first, and then his gaze drifted to the others who had followed him into the room.
"Good morning," Shen Rui'an said softly. "You're stable. You survived the night."
Leon blinked, his voice quiet but firm. "What happened after Logan brought me back?"
Shen Rui'an gave a brief, precise summary. He spoke of the group's watch through the night, their meditation, the care and vigilance maintained while Logan and Jason pursued the escaped demon, and the successful containment of immediate threats around the mansion. He carefully avoided unnecessary words, giving only the facts, ensuring that Leon understood the scope without being overwhelmed.
Leon absorbed the details silently, his expression neutral. Not a single word of complaint, no questions asked—just quiet acceptance.
Once Shen Rui'an had finished, he pressed a hand lightly on Leon's shoulder. "Rest a bit longer. Your strength is still returning. Your body will need it for the day ahead."
Leon shook his head, stubbornness shining through the pallor. "I'll go to school." His voice, though soft, carried the weight of a decision that could not be changed.
Yun Qiaolan stepped forward, alarm flashing in her eyes. "Leon, you can't. You're still too weak."
Luna added, her hands clenched, "The night took too much out of you. You need time to recover."
Leon's gaze met theirs, unwavering. "I am fine. I will go. You all know me well enough to know that I cannot stay behind when everyone else moves forward."
There was a long pause. The group exchanged glances, realizing that no amount of persuasion would stop him. Shen Rui'an, observing quietly, shook his head slightly, a small smile on his lips. "Let him be. He's stubborn, yes, but he can handle walking if he wishes. Just keep an eye on him."
Leon allowed himself a faint nod. It was enough for them to understand: he was fragile, yes, but he would insist, and they had no choice but to respect his resolve.
---
The mansion began to stir. The other immortals moved to gather their things. Robes were straightened,eh?, robes? I meant their clothes changed, talismans checked, and books carefully packed. Despite their worry, there was a sense of purpose in the air—the calm determination that came from centuries of discipline.
Leon, pale but resolute, prepared quietly alongside them, wore a black outfit to hide his wound Incase of anything, hair tired into a bun, though pale, he is very handsome.
Though his movements were slow, the aura of resolve around him was impossible to ignore. Every so often, one of the group would glance at him, concern mingling with admiration. Even weakened, he carried himself with the confidence of someone who refused to be defeated.
Shen Rui'an watched the group for a moment longer, then turned back to his books, murmuring softly about further preparations in case of emergency. Yun Qiaolan lingered as well, her eyes scanning Leon's face, ensuring he did not push himself too far.
Finally, they made their way to the garage. The cars were ready. Since Shen Rui'an decided to stay behind it was Ethan who drove the car. The frost glistened on the polished hoods as the engines purred to life, signaling the start of a new day.
Leon stepped into his seat, settling in carefully. He was pale, yes, but his aura had steadied. His determination radiated quietly, and though he did not speak, everyone in the car knew: the battle from the night before had changed him, but it had not broken him.
The rest of the group followed suit, boarding the vehicles and checking their gear once more. Outside, the sun rose fully, gilding the frost and casting long, warm shadows over the driveway.
The cars moved as one, a quiet procession cutting through the early morning light. Inside, the air was filled with the soft hum of engines and the occasional glance between immortals. Though conversation was sparse, the unspoken acknowledgment of their shared bond and the night's events was palpable. They were ready to face the day ahead.
Leon remained quiet, his gaze forward, lost in thought but steady. He had survived, yes, but the memory of the battle lingered. The demon's lingering qi, the frost of Logan's protective ice, the searing pain of his injuries—all of it was tucked neatly behind the wall of resolve he had built over centuries.
No one in the car dared speak too much. Words felt unnecessary. Even in his fragile state, Leon commanded presence—silent, unwavering, an unspoken reminder of both vulnerability and strength.
The mansion disappeared in the distance, replaced by the familiar road leading to the school. Frost gave way to patches of morning dew, and the world seemed oblivious to the battles fought in shadow the night before.
And though the group could not yet know it, the day ahead would test them in ways different from the night, in ways that required more than strength—it required unity, focus, and the kind of resolve that only immortals could muster.
Leon, pale yet determined, tightened his grip on the edge of his seat. The school awaited, the lessons of life and danger continuing.
And the road ahead stretched long, golden in the morning sun.
The car sped forward. Silence filled it—not empty silence, but one of shared understanding, quiet respect, and anticipation of challenges yet to come.
The day had begun.