The wind howled across the frostbitten valley, biting at the edges of the night. Bai Renshu stood unmoving, his silhouette dark beneath the pale glow of the rising moon.
Blood, still dripping from the gash across his side, stained the snow beneath him, but his expression held steady, his focus unwavering as he watched Wei Zheng's back recede into the distance. The silence that followed was almost oppressive, broken only by the sharp crunch of snow beneath Bai Renshu's boots as he moved.
His hand brushed lightly against his left eye, where the wound still throbbed, but the pain was insignificant.
What lingered in his thoughts was not the violence of the battle nor the sting of his injuries, but Wei Zheng's words, clear and final:
"To kill her."
A low chuckle escaped his lips, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness.
"Foolish," he muttered, a strange mix of amusement and something else twisting in his voice.
He glanced down at his bloodied fingers, the weight of Wei Zheng's resolve still lingering in his mind. For a fleeting moment, something stirred inside him, a memory half-formed, a sensation that was both familiar and foreign.
It was the same feeling he had known centuries ago, just before the path to his ascension had splintered into something darker.
But there was no room for such thoughts now. Bai Renshu had crossed that line long ago. He raised his hand into the cold night, fingers curling as demonic qi swirled around him in a complex dance of crimson. The energy pulsed like a living shadow, an extension of his will.
With a sharp motion, his fist clenched, melting the snow beneath him into wisps of dark steam. The shadows that clung to the valley stretched, twisting under his influence, taking on strange, monstrous forms that swirled in his wake.
Bai Renshu exhaled slowly, feeling his breath steady even as the blood seeped from his wounds. His body was used to such discomfort, and years of fighting had honed him into something beyond human endurance.
His steps faltered at the crest of a hill. Below, the valley narrowed into a jagged gorge, its edges shrouded in a thick, shifting mist. A faint light flickered in the distance like a stubborn ember against the endless night: Wei Zheng's campfire.
Bai Renshu's lips curled, not into a smile, but something darker.
"You think you understand the cost," he whispered to the wind. "But you know nothing of sacrifice."
Before he could move, a disturbance in the mist below caught his attention. Shadows stirred, their movements erratic and unnatural. Bai Renshu's hand went instinctively to the hilt of his blade, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the shifting shapes. The shadows solidified into distorted figures, ghoulish in appearance, with unsettling white eyes that seemed to pierce right through him.
Shadows of the Abyss.
He straightened, his posture deceptively calm despite the tension in the air.
"So, you've come," he said, voice flat and disinterested. "A pity."
The creatures hissed, their irregular forms flickering as they closed in. With sudden, twisting movements, the Shadows began scaling the wall, their long, bony limbs gripping the rough surface in an unsettling display of agility. Sharp claws dragged across the uneven stone surface, a sound that pierced the air like nails scraping against a chalkboard.
Bai Renshu sighed, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword almost absentmindedly. Despite his injuries, the lowly creatures were beneath him, a distraction at best.
The first shadow lunged, its claws slashing toward him with deadly intent. Bai Renshu sidestepped effortlessly, his blade a swift arc that shattered the creature's form into a mist of darkness. The remaining shadows hesitated, their glowing eyes narrowing as if weighing their next move.
"You should have stayed hidden," Bai Renshu muttered, annoyed.
His energy surged as he drew on the depths of his power, his demonic qi rushing outward in a controlled wave. The crimson light mercilessly sliced through the remaining Shadows with precision. When the air finally settled again, the valley was still.
Bai Renshu sheathed his blade and turned, his gaze drifting back to Wei Zheng's distant campfire. It burned quietly, persistently. His expression, unreadable, lingered on it for a moment.
"To fight fate," he mused, almost to himself, "is a cruel thing."
The demonic qi swirling around him grew stronger, an oppressive presence that seemed to warp the air. The shadows deepened, swallowing him whole as he turned, disappearing into the night.
---
Far below, Wei Zheng sat by his campfire, the flames throwing uneven shadows across his face, each flicker mirroring the chaos that stirred within him. The warmth of the fire did little to chase the cold feeling gnawing at his core. The battle had passed, but its echo lingered, too heavy for the flames to lift.
The crackle of the fire was a distraction, a brief comfort.
Every gust of wind felt like an omen, every flicker of light like a reminder of the weight that pressed down on him. His mind churned, replaying the events and the choices he had made.
Wei Zheng knew the cost, but the fire's warmth at that moment couldn't drive away the chill of what was to come.
He didn't need to look up to know Bai Renshu was still nearby. The presence of that demon pressed against the air itself, thick with the tension of what lay ahead. It was a familiar pressure he had learned to push aside, though it was impossible to ignore truly. The wind shifted, and the valley seemed to pause as the oppressive energy around him thickened.
Wei Zheng's gaze flicked toward the horizon, his expression hardening. He could feel the demonic energy, a constant presence in the air, heavy and inescapable.
But it did not sway him.
The path he walked had been paved with choices, choices that demanded more than simple resolve.
His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, finding comfort in its solid presence. Bai Renshu's voice, though distant, still whispered in his mind:
"Play dirty if you want to survive. Your integrity and morals are strong, but they won't save you in a battle."
The words struck a chord deeper than they should have, and for a moment, doubt flickered. But Wei Zheng knew better than to entertain it.
His path was not one of certainty but of necessity. Doubt had no place here. He had already made sacrifices far too great to turn back now.
He straightened, expelling the fleeting doubt. Every breath he took steadied him. There was no room for hesitation. There never had been. He had chosen this, and now there was nothing left but to move forward.
The shadows at the valley's edge seemed to deepen, and for a moment, Wei Zheng stared into them, a resolve settling over him like iron. Cold and indifferent, the valley stretched before him, but he did not flinch.
With a final glance at the fire, he rose, moving steadily, each step driven by the certainty of his path. The wind bit at him but could not reach the frost in his heart. There was no turning back now.