The figure stood still, green light pulsing faint against the dusk, stark against the silver essence simmering in Lian's blade—snatched from that Crane woman’s death. Before he could peer closer, a snarl ripped left—a scaled cat leapt from the dark, tail lashing like a whip, claws glinting in the crimson sky.
He twisted on instinct, slashing furiously. His qi flared—wind snarled with raw heat—grazing the beast’s flank, charring scales with a hiss. It recoiled, limping off with a guttural yowl, blood staining the dust black. “Quick. Too quick.” Lian spun back, breath sharp—the figure had vanished, green qi snuffed out like a smothered flame. “Where’d he—” Steel clanked, crisp and near, cutting his thought. Four Iron Crane elites, loomed at the gully’s mouth, shields broad and heavy, spears tipped with faint qi shimmer, their armour etched with crane wings—symbols of the legion once protecting the great walls of the Shattered Capital, now just one of the five powers vying for control.
“Azure Dawn deserter,” the leader sneered, eyeing Lian’s tattered blue rags, the symbolic golden sun crest faded. “This is the once who killed Captain Vara. Kill him.” They advanced, shields locked, a wall of iron. Lian lunged, blade arcing—qi burst forth, a scorching gust slamming their defenses. Lian reeled back from the sheer impact, expecting the shields to crack on impact, but it stood firm, deflecting his strikes with dull thuds. He swung again, heat licking the steel—no crack, no dent. A spear slipped past, grazing his ribs with a wet sting; he stumbled, qi flickering. “Can’t dent ‘em—” The leader’s spear rose, poised for his chest—a gleaming death thrust aimed true. “Over.” Wow, the irony of it; he unlocks a powerful reaping skill, and he wouldn't live to use it.
Then the air thickened—green mist unfurled from the shadows, coiling like roots torn from blighted earth. It surged around the Cranes, tendrils spiking into jagged thorns of light—sharp, relentless. The leader gagged, spear clattering, as green veins snaked up his throat, bursting in a spray of dark ichor. Another choked, thorns piercing his chestplate, erupting in a grotesque bloom of blood and shattered steel. The mist tightened, a shroud of decay—they spasmed, crumpled, green fading to gray ash. Lian stared, blade limp, chest heaving. “That’s… not right.”
The cloaked figure stepped from the gloom, green qi simmering low, hood a void of shadow. He seized Lian’s arm—firm, unyielding—and the world warped, gully dissolving in a swirl of green and black. Lian’s gut twisted; reality snapped taut. They stood in a hollowed expanse—walls of polished obsidian soared, carved with runes that pulsed like fading embers, Lian could be certain he had read about these "Qi stones" in one of those old scrolls his grandfather left him as a parting gift. The air hung heavy, reeking of evil—the dark and murky place was not much better than the bloodshed and crimson skies. At least he was still breathing. He looked around. A fractured dome arched overhead, sky split into shards of grey and violet. At the centre, a pool of liquid silver rippled, flanked by black stone roots veined with faint green—relics with art styles of the Empire in its golden age.
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The figure released him, voice coarse as rusted iron. “Your essence runs wild—crude, loud. Wield it, or it’ll tear you apart.”
Lian lurched back, steel shaky. “Why did you help me out there? Who are you? Where... am I?”
“Names can wait. For now, you only need to know this place as The Shadow Realm.” The figure paced, qi flaring—green thorns spiked briefly, then dissolved. “Your qi is stolen, unpure, wild yet powerful. Tame it, infuse it with your qi, make it yours. You master it here, out you die out there.” He pointed to the pool. “Start.”
Lian’s ribs ached, qi churning—hot, chaotic, a storm clawing his insides. “Tame it? I need to run—” No way out. Having no choice, he sat cross legged by the pool, the silver a cool relief to the fiery qi churning within him, and tried to channel the qi like his senior had taught him back in the Azure Dawn training camps. It reacted—wind lashed out, heat flared, lashing at his insides with a burn that drew a hiss. The pool rippled, mocking. He tried again—qi surged, a mess of fire and gusts, spinning wild; it scorched his lungs, cracked stone nearby. He reeled, gasping, sweat stinging his eyes. The figure loomed. “Fight it, do not relent, master the wind and fire within.” Lian growled, diving back—qi fought, slipping like a beast, wind slicing his cheek, heat blistering his hand. He grappled, muscles screaming—three tries, four, each a failure, qi lashing back harder. Finally, he snarled, hauling it down—a thread of wind sharpened, heat coiled tight, fusing into a jagged edge. He gritted his teeth and silenced the wild qi with his own qi. He felt the unknown qi relent, as if surrendering, and a calm settled over him as he felt a surge of qi energy, his own, course through his veins. Lian collapsed, exhausted.
The figure’s hood tilted. “The qi is significantly weaker, but it yours.” He knelt, pressing a palm to Lian’s chest—green qi seeped in, cool and sharp, knitting torn flesh. Scars faded—ribs, thigh, arm—leaving faint traces of a land scarred by endless strife. "You can do that?” Lian suddenly felt fresh despite the many injuries he had sustained before. From his cloak, the hooded figure drew a shard—black stone, infused with silvery trails, warm with a pulse of green. “Crush this when you’re lost—I’ll feel it.” He rose, qi swelling. “You need to be prepared for them.”
Lian gripped the shard, words catching—“Who's them? The factions?—”—but green mist spiralled, the hollow folding away. He landed hard on mossy earth, tumbling into a forest—pines towered, bark gouged by old qi storms, air thick with sap and whispers of a world unmoored. The figure loomed once more. “West—track the path. Continue refining your qi, reaping essence. Or you'll never survive.” He faded, green qi winking out. Lian rose, blade trembling, qi simmering—jagged, his own, but fragile as glass. “Such comforting words.” The woods stretched silent, the new knowledge he had gained overwhelming, but Lian begin to see hope. He felt excited, his qi gave him a sense of safety. He had to hope the West he headed towards had civilisation, and soon, because he was thirsty and hungry. He had to find someone soon."
