The music filled the air like poison.
Sweet.
Enchanting.
Deadly.
The notes of the guzheng rose, twisted, and wove invisible patterns through the air.
And from those patterns, shadows emerged.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Ghostly specters.
They rose from the ground, from the trees, from the air itself—translucent figures armed to the teeth.
Some carried spears.
Others wielded swords.
Still others held bows fitted with arrows glowing with a spectral light.
The air was saturated with the stench of sulfur and ashes.
They formed an army around Yanlong and Tianyin.
An army of the dead.
The Lady in Red smiled.
“Kill them,” she murmured.
The ghosts attacked.
Yanlong moved like lightning.
His blade cleaved the first specter in two.
Then the second.
Then the third.
He moved with deadly grace, every motion calculated, every strike precise.
Not a single unnecessary movement.
Not a single ounce of wasted energy.
The creatures fell around him like dead leaves.
But they kept coming.
Endlessly.
Relentlessly.
Behind him, Tianyin clenched her fists.
She couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.
She picked up one of the swords lying on the ground.
The metal was as cold as ice—so cold it burned her palm.
Then she threw herself into the melee.
She struck without elegance, but with a strength that caught the shadows by surprise.
She spun awkwardly, yet with a fury that made up for her lack of technique.
She narrowly dodged a spectral blade.
She had learned to fight by watching soldiers train.
She had practiced alone at night in the gardens of the Celestial Palace.
She had never had a master teach her the way of the sword.
But she knew how to defend herself.
And at this moment…
That was all that mattered.
Yanlong cut down the last creature of the first wave.
He straightened, breathing heavily, and lifted his gaze toward the musician.
She was still perched atop the tree, her hands resting upon her guzheng, a smile lingering on her lips.
He charged toward her.
His feet barely touched the ground.
He leaped from one root to another, climbing toward the crown of the ancient tree with superhuman agility.
The woman in scarlet continued to smile.
She did not move.
She simply waited for him to reach her.
Yanlong raised his sword.
The blade came crashing down toward her, aimed straight at her heart.
And just before it struck—
Armor appeared.
Armor forged from crimson scales.
It materialized around the sorceress like a living shield, encasing her entire body in a gleaming shell.
The scales overlapped like those of a dragon.
Each one was engraved with ancient symbols pulsing with a blood-red glow.
Yanlong’s sword rebounded off the armor with a metallic clang.
He sprang backward, narrowing his eyes.
An artifact.
His gaze swept over his opponent, instantly searching for the source.
Hanging from a delicate golden chain at her slender waist was a seashell.
A seashell carved from amethyst.
Translucent.
Radiating a violet light from within.
That’s it.
That’s the source of the armor.
The musician noticed where he was looking and laughed softly.
“You are observant.”
“But it won’t help you.”
She unclipped something from another ring hanging at her waist.
A transverse flute.
Long.
Slender.
Carved from polished white jade.
She raised it to her lips.
And played.
The melody was different from the one played on the guzheng.
Sharper.
More piercing.
More violent.
The sky above them darkened.
The clouds spiraled together, forming a black vortex at whose center a crimson light gleamed.
Then something fell from that vortex.
A giant.
It crashed into the ground with an impact that shook the entire plain.
The earth split beneath its weight.
The distant trees bent as though struck by a hurricane.
The stench of sulfur became suffocating, burning their nostrils.
The creature slowly rose to its feet.
It stood ten meters tall.
Its blood-red body was translucent, revealing muscles and bones pulsing with spectral energy.
Its torso was covered by armor engraved with glowing runes.
In its right hand, it wielded a sword of fire.
The blade roared, its living flames twisting like a dragon.
The colossus raised its weapon and let out a deafening roar that made the air itself tremble.
Yanlong did not move.
He stood perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the giant.
Then, slowly, he raised his free hand. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
He placed two fingers against his forehead.
And traced a symbol.
An ancient symbol.
Complex.
Formed of intertwining lines woven into flawless geometric patterns.
The symbol flared with brilliant green light, branding itself into his flesh like a mark of fire.
Down below, Tianyin stared with wide eyes.
What is he doing?
Yanlong lowered his hand.
Behind him, his guardian emerged.
A colossal guardian.
Just as massive as the crimson giant.
But different.
Its body was translucent green.
You could see straight through it, as though it were made of crystal-clear water.
It wore radiant armor that shone with a gentle yet dazzling light, like the stars themselves.
In its hands, it held two swords.
Twin blades.
Long.
Slender.
Curved.
They hummed softly through the air, emitting a high-pitched vibration that made the very fabric of space quiver.
The emerald guardian stepped in front of Yanlong like an impregnable wall.
The musician froze.
Her eyes widened.
For the first time, an emotion other than amusement crossed her face.
Surprise.
Almost fear.
“Impossible.”
“A mere human cannot summon such a guardian.”
“That is—”
She never finished her sentence.
The two giants collided.
The impact was titanic.
The flaming sword crashed against the twin blades with a thunderous roar.
Sparks exploded in every direction.
The earth beneath them split in two.
Trees hundreds of meters away were ripped from the ground by the shockwave alone.
The crimson colossus roared.
It struck again.
And again.
Each blow was heavy.
Brutal.
Devastating.
The guardian dodged.
Parried.
Counterattacked with surgical precision.
Its twin blades moved like serpents, carving arcs of light through the air.
Below, Yanlong guided every movement.
His eyes never left the battle.
His fingers moved almost imperceptibly, tracing invisible symbols through the air.
Every gesture he made was mirrored by his summoned guardian…
Amplified a hundredfold.
A thousandfold.
The woman in scarlet played her flute with increasing intensity.
The melody rose.
Fell.
Quickened.
Slowed.
She controlled her creature as a puppeteer controlled a puppet.
The two colossi collided once more.
This time, the twin blades found an opening.
They pierced the crimson armor.
They plunged into the giant’s chest.
Green light erupted from within, tearing the spectral body apart from the inside.
The monster let out one final roar.
Then it disintegrated.
A shower of ashes drifted down over the plain.
The Lady in Red staggered.
Her face suddenly turned pale.
Her hands trembled.
She dropped her flute, and it struck the bark with a clear metallic chime.
Her knees buckled.
She barely managed to catch herself on a branch.
A thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
Yanlong sprang toward her.
His guardian vanished behind him, dissolving into the air like mist.
Yanlong landed before the sorceress, his sword raised.
“It’s over.”
His voice was low.
Final.
The musician looked at him.
She smiled.
A weary smile.
Almost sorrowful.
“You really think it’s over?”
She raised one hand.
And plucked a single string on her guzheng.
The ground beneath Tianyin exploded.
Hands burst out of the earth.
Dozens of hands.
Hundreds.
All of them gray and withered, with long, curved nails.
The specters of the dead buried beneath the soil.
They seized her ankles.
Her wrists.
Her arms.
They pulled downward, trying to drag her into the earth.
The air filled with the smell of freshly turned soil and decay.
Tianyin struggled.
She struck.
She clawed.
She kicked.
Too many hands.
Too many grips.
She fell to her knees.
Then onto her stomach.
The hands dragged her relentlessly toward the ground.
“Let me go!” she cried.
She fought until exhaustion overtook her.
Her strength faded.
Her vision blurred.
The taste of dust and ashes filled her mouth.
No.
Not like this.
I’m not going to die like this.
She forced herself back to her feet.
And ran.
She sprinted across the entire plain.
Hands continued to erupt beneath her feet, trying to seize her.
But she was fast.
Faster than they were.
She was running toward the tree.
Toward the Lady in Red.
High in the tree, Yanlong saw her coming.
“Tianyin, no!”
But she didn’t listen.
She leaped.
Jumped onto one root.
Then another.
She climbed with the agility of a wild beast.
And struck the musician.
Her fist slammed into the woman’s face.
The sorceress was hurled backward.
She crashed into the trunk of the Ancient Tree with a dull thud.
She spat out blood.
The blood ran across the black bark.
Seeped into the cracks in the wood.
Vanished inside.
The Ancient Tree shuddered.
Then it screamed.
A scream unlike anything human.
A sound rising from the very depths of the earth.
A cry of pure frenzy.
Blood.
It had smelled blood.
And it wanted more.
Tianyin turned around.
She saw the dagger.
The dagger resting atop the guzheng.
Slender.
Curved.
Its silver blade engraved with ancient symbols.
She seized it without a second thought.
Then turned toward the tree.
And plunged the dagger into its trunk.
The Ancient Tree screamed in agony.
The sound was deafening.
Its roots writhed.
Its branches split apart.
Black blood burst from the wound, spilling across the ground.
A foul stench of ancient decay filled the air—the smell of blood corrupted over countless millennia.
Black blood splattered across Tianyin’s face.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
A slow smile curved her lips.
Mocking.
Defiant.
“You really think you’ve got me?”
“I’m still the Seventh Daughter of the Celestial Emperor!”
Yanlong reached her.
He wrapped an arm around her waist.
“We’re leaving.”
“Now.”
He raised his free hand and traced a symbol through the air.
A portal opened.
A tear in space itself.
Beyond it, the palace could be seen.
Its towers of black stone.
Its granite-paved courtyards.
The reassuring light of the setting sun.
They were about to jump through.
But before they could…
The Ancient Tree spoke.
Its voice was a chorus of a thousand overlapping voices.
Hoarse.
Ancient.
Terrifying.
“I will find you, wherever you are.”
“For you belong to me now.”
“Your blood belongs to me.”
“You will be mine for eternity.”
Silence.
Then, in a lower, more menacing voice—
“The bell around your ankle will always tell me where you are.”
“No matter where you go…”
“I will find you.”
Tianyin lowered her gaze to her ankle.
The tiny silver bell chimed softly.
And within that gentle sound…
She heard a promise.
A condemnation.
Yanlong pulled her close.
And together, they leaped into the portal.
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