Chapter Thirty-Four: The Brand of the Kirin
Ji Yuan stood on the edge of Kunlun's territory, overlooking the landscape that had once been a picture of quiet strength and order. Now, it lay in shambles, a scene of relentless chaos and destruction. His heart clenched painfully as his gaze traveled across the broken fields and scattered trees, all bearing the marks of the beast tide's fury. The storm still raged above, a howling reminder of the ancient power that had driven these creatures from their sanctuary. Thunder echoed in the distance, blending with the cries of the wounded and the frantic calls of those scrambling to rebuild defenses, to recover even the smallest piece of order from the madness.
But it wasn't just the visible destruction that stirred Ji Yuan's spirit. There was something deeper, a pulse beneath the surface that he had felt from the very beginning. It was faint at first, a whisper at the edges of his awareness, but now it thrummed steadily, like a distant drumbeat calling him toward something unknown yet powerful. This sensation resonated within him, reverberating in his chest, mingling with his own heartbeat until he could no longer separate the two. Whatever force lay at the root of this calamity, he realized, had been calling to him all along.
He closed his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him—the scent of scorched earth mingling with the dampness of rain, the metallic tang of blood on the air, the whispers of the forest as it tried to recover from the onslaught. Each detail weighed on him, pressing down on his chest with a sense of urgency he couldn't ignore. This wasn't a simple disturbance. It was as if an ancient sorrow had been unearthed, an anguish that had been buried deep within the mountains, only to burst forth in a wave that none could withstand.
The weight of it all sank into him, and his heart beat with a sadness so profound it seemed to touch his very soul. He felt the pain of those who had fallen, the creatures that had been driven mad by forces beyond their understanding, the disciples who had fought with every ounce of their strength only to face a force that felt like the wrath of the heavens itself. This devastation was no ordinary calamity—it was the echo of something vast, a power older than Kunlun, older than the forest, perhaps older than the land itself.
As he opened his eyes, a new resolve settled within him, hard and unyielding. This ruin could not be allowed to continue, not without understanding its true cause. He needed to know what had set these events in motion, to confront the power that had stirred the mountains to life and sent the beast tide crashing upon the land. Every instinct within him demanded he find the truth, to answer the call that had first whispered to him and now burned in his veins like fire.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his jaw clenched as he took in the scene once more, his gaze sweeping across the destruction with a renewed sense of purpose. Whatever lay at the heart of this, he would uncover it. This was no longer just about protecting Kunlun or upholding his duties as a disciple. It had become something deeper, something personal—a journey not only to face the cause of the devastation but to understand the connection that pulsed within him, linking him to the ancient force responsible.
Ji Yuan turned his gaze toward the mountains, their peaks shrouded in mist and shadow, hiding the secrets they held within. This was the place he needed to go, the source of the roar that had set the world trembling. The call that echoed in his heart urged him forward, pulling him toward the mountain's depths where answers, and perhaps something far more profound, awaited.
Ji Yuan took his first steps toward the towering shadows of the Azure Mountains, each footfall heavy with apprehension, as though he were crossing an invisible boundary into the unknown. The path before him was a twisting trail of roots and broken stones, winding upward through the dense forest that clung to the mountain's lower reaches. His senses heightened, each breath shallow as he absorbed the energy of the place—thick, ancient, as if the very air were alive with memories of times long past. The rain had subsided to a mist, draping the trees in a ghostly shroud, and in the silence that followed, every whisper of the wind, every rustle of leaves felt like the murmurs of spirits long forgotten.
The further he climbed, the more the world around him seemed to change, as if he were stepping deeper into a realm beyond mortal understanding. The trees here were massive, their trunks thick and twisted, their bark darkened and rough, marked by scars of storms and time. Branches arched overhead like a cathedral of shadows, blotting out the weak daylight and casting the path in a dim, shifting twilight. Yet, through the silence, he sensed something else—a presence, a vast awareness that pulsed within the mountain's heart. It was subtle, woven into the landscape itself, but it felt as though the mountain was alive, its spirit reaching out to him, beckoning him deeper into its embrace.
A shiver crept along his spine as he continued forward, each step filled with a quiet resolve mingled with unease. He felt small beneath the mountain's gaze, as though it were watching him, assessing him, its ancient spirit studying every thought and intention he carried. The weight of its silent scrutiny pressed on him, amplifying the steady beat of his heart, which seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness. With each step, he felt himself being drawn closer to something vast, something that lay just beyond his understanding—a truth buried deep within the mountain, waiting to reveal itself.
The air grew colder as he climbed, each breath releasing a faint plume of mist that curled and drifted into the shadows. His footsteps echoed softly against the rocks, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the dense forest, as if the mountain sought to keep his presence a secret. The path before him was narrow, barely a trail at all, winding through dense underbrush and thickets, yet he pressed on, driven by an instinct he couldn't explain. It was as if an invisible thread connected him to the heart of the mountain, pulling him closer, urging him forward.
As he ascended, an ethereal mist began to gather, swirling around his ankles and thickening with each step, as though the mountain itself were shrouding him in a veil. The mist crept up, soft and cold against his skin, blurring the world around him until the trees became little more than silhouettes, looming figures hidden in gray. Each step felt heavier, as though the mountain resisted his approach even as it beckoned him deeper, testing his resolve with every stone and root that blocked his way.
Ji Yuan's mind drifted, his thoughts turning to the roar that had shattered the silence and set this journey in motion. That sound, so powerful, so filled with anguish, echoed within him even now, a haunting reminder of the ancient power that lay hidden somewhere within these mountains. And as he pressed forward, he could feel it—the faintest pulse of that same energy, a beat that resonated with his own heart, growing stronger as he neared.
The deeper he ventured, the more the feeling intensified, filling him with an overwhelming sense of connection, as if he were part of something far greater than himself. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a sensation that seeped into his bones and stirred a longing he hadn't known existed. He felt like an intruder yet also strangely welcomed, as though the mountain acknowledged him, recognized something within him that even he could not see.
With each step, the silence around him deepened, growing almost oppressive, the weight of the mountain's presence pressing down on him like a tangible force. His breaths grew shallower, his heart pounding in his chest, not from exertion but from the sheer intensity of the moment. The trees thinned as he climbed higher, and the mist thickened, obscuring everything beyond his immediate path. He felt as though he were walking between worlds, suspended in a place where time held no meaning, where the boundary between reality and spirit blurred.
Finally, he reached a ledge, a flat stretch of rock that jutted out over the forest, and he paused, gazing out over the landscape. From here, he could see the entire valley below, stretching into the distance, the remnants of the storm casting it in an eerie, silver light. The beast tide had left its mark, the land scarred and broken, and a wave of sorrow washed over him as he took it all in. This was the devastation he sought to understand, the reason he had ventured here—to find the cause, to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed the land.
But even as he looked out over the destruction, his gaze was drawn upward, to the peaks of the mountains that loomed above him, shrouded in shadow and mystery. The call he had felt from the beginning pulsed stronger now, vibrating within him like a second heartbeat. Somewhere in the depths of those peaks, the answers waited, hidden in the dark and ancient places that only the brave or the desperate dared to seek.
A sudden chill swept through him, and he took a step back, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. He knew that whatever lay ahead would challenge him in ways he couldn't yet comprehend, that he would have to face not only the power that stirred within the mountains but perhaps parts of himself he had long buried. And yet, despite the uncertainty, despite the fear that tightened in his chest, he knew he could not turn back.
With a final glance at the valley below, Ji Yuan squared his shoulders, steeling himself, and took a step forward, deeper into the mountain's embrace, ready to uncover the secrets it held—and the answers that had begun to awaken within his own heart.
Ji Yuan entered the cavern, his footsteps echoing softly in the stillness as he moved deeper into the shadows. The air was heavy, thick with a primal energy that seemed to seep from the stone itself, resonating in a way that made his skin prickle and his heart pound. This place was ancient beyond his understanding; every rock, every ripple in the walls seemed to carry memories of an era when mortals had not yet set foot upon these lands. And at the heart of this timeless void, he could sense it—the presence he had felt from the moment he stepped into the Azure Mountains, the entity whose roar had shaken the heavens.
As he moved further in, the air grew colder, an unnatural chill that clung to his skin and filled his lungs with each breath, like the breath of a long-forgotten spirit. The darkness thickened, yet a faint light began to glow ahead, a soft, ethereal gleam that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. Ji Yuan's steps slowed as he approached the source, his every instinct alert, his mind racing with questions—and a tremor of fear he could not shake.
And then, he saw it.
The cavern opened into a vast, shadowed chamber, the walls towering above him and vanishing into the darkness above. In the center of the chamber lay the Kirin, an immense creature whose form seemed to meld with the very shadows around it. Its body was coiled in repose, yet there was a tension in its stance, an ancient fury barely held in check. The Kirin's scales glimmered in shades of deep azure and emerald, each scale shimmering with a light that felt both gentle and fierce, as though the very essence of the mountain had taken form in this creature. Its body was powerful, lithe and muscular, yet there was an elegance to its movements, a quiet grace that belied the overwhelming strength it possessed.
The creature's head was crowned with a spiraled horn that glowed faintly, casting a pale, silvery light across the cavern. The horn seemed almost alive, pulsating in rhythm with the Kirin's breath, illuminating the chamber with an unearthly glow. Its eyes, however, were what held Ji Yuan captive—large, golden orbs that burned with a fierce, ancient wisdom, filled with both sorrow and an intensity that felt like a living flame. Those eyes locked onto him, and he felt himself rooted in place, his heart racing as he faced the gaze of a creature older than any mortal realm, a beast that had witnessed epochs and carried within it the secrets of the earth.
For a moment, there was silence, the kind of silence that held the weight of eons, as though even the air itself waited, caught in the tension between them. Ji Yuan felt his breath catch in his throat, his every instinct screaming at him to look away, to lower his gaze in respect, yet he couldn't. The Kirin's presence was overwhelming, a force that filled every corner of the cavern, pressing against him like an unseen tide. Yet, beneath the power and the fury, he sensed something else—a weariness, a pain that lay buried deep within those golden eyes, a silent suffering that resonated with a part of him he had never acknowledged.
The Kirin let out a low, rumbling growl, a sound that echoed through the cavern like distant thunder. It tilted its head slightly, its gaze unblinking as it studied him, as if assessing his every thought, his every intention. The silence stretched on, the air thick with unspoken words, until finally, the Kirin spoke, its voice a deep, resonant tone that seemed to come from the very stones around them.
"Why have you come here, mortal?" The Kirin's voice was both soft and powerful, carrying a weight that made Ji Yuan's heart clench. It was not a question born of curiosity but of command, a demand for answers from a creature who had no patience for falsehoods.
Ji Yuan swallowed, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke, "I came… to understand. The roar, the storm, the beasts… I needed to know the cause." He paused, his gaze wavering as he felt the full force of the Kirin's eyes upon him. "I felt… as though I was being called here. As if I had no choice."
The Kirin's gaze narrowed, a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—passing through its golden eyes. "Called?" it repeated, a hint of skepticism in its tone. "You, who walk in the shadow of Kunlun, who bear no knowledge of what lies within these mountains, speak of a call?" Its gaze lingered on him, intense and searching, and Ji Yuan felt a strange heat rise within him, a feeling he could not fully understand. "You are drawn to what you do not understand, yet you are bold enough to enter my domain… Do you truly grasp the weight of your actions, mortal?"
Ji Yuan's fists clenched, his fear giving way to a flicker of defiance, his resolve hardening as he met the Kirin's gaze. "I may not understand the full scope of this, but I know that whatever happened here has shaken the entire continent. I could not simply ignore it. I… I had to come."
The Kirin's golden eyes softened for a fraction of a moment, a fleeting shift that left as quickly as it appeared. "You are bold," it murmured, almost to itself, before its gaze sharpened once more. "But boldness without purpose is mere recklessness. You come seeking answers, yet do you understand the burden that knowledge will bring? Do you comprehend the cost of trespassing upon the secrets of the divine?"
Ji Yuan felt a tremor of uncertainty, but he steeled himself, his resolve unbroken. "If there is a price, I am prepared to pay it."
The Kirin's eyes flashed, a spark of something fierce and wild within them. It lowered its head slightly, bringing its gaze level with Ji Yuan's, its golden eyes burning with an intensity that made his breath hitch. "And yet, you carry within you something that even you do not fully know," it said softly, its voice a low, resonant murmur. "A bloodline that binds you to forces far older than Kunlun, than the mountains themselves."
Ji Yuan's eyes widened, a flicker of shock crossing his face. "My bloodline…" he murmured, the words catching in his throat. He had never known his father, had never understood the strange, lingering sense of power that sometimes flared within him, a power he had learned to ignore. But hearing it spoken aloud, hearing the acknowledgment from this ancient creature, made something within him stir—a dormant energy that seemed to awaken in response to the Kirin's words.
The Kirin's gaze remained steady, unwavering. "Your blood carries the echoes of an ancient clan, a lineage that once walked among beings like myself. Perhaps it is this connection that drew you here, that stirred the call you felt. Yet know this, mortal: power is a double-edged sword, a gift that can turn upon its bearer." It tilted its head, its gaze narrowing. "I have no trust in you, for trust is a luxury I no longer possess. But necessity has brought you to me, and necessity demands sacrifice."
Ji Yuan felt his heart quicken, the weight of the Kirin's words pressing upon him like a physical force. He had come seeking answers, but he had never imagined this—a bloodline he knew nothing of, an ancient power lying dormant within him, tied to this creature before him. And now, as he looked into the Kirin's eyes, he felt the gravity of what was being asked, the path that was opening before him, dark and uncertain.
The Kirin drew back slightly, its form radiating a quiet, restrained power. "If you are willing to bear this burden, if you would dare to serve as my emissary in a world that has long forgotten the divine… then I shall grant you a mark, a gift that will awaken what lies within you. But know this: the power you seek will come with a cost."
Before Ji Yuan could respond, the Kirin's horn began to glow, its light shifting from silver to a dark, crimson hue that pulsed with an energy that felt both ancient and foreboding. The light gathered at the tip of its horn, forming a small, concentrated flame that flickered with a strange, almost sentient intensity. The creature's gaze hardened as it focused on Ji Yuan, its voice a low, powerful murmur that seemed to resonate within his very bones.
"This is the curse of my mark," the Kirin intoned, its voice carrying a weight that filled the cavern. "A reminder of the bond you now carry, a bond that will awaken your dormant bloodline and tie you to the ancient forces that flow within this land. It will guide you, but it will demand from you. You are no mere mortal now—you are a vessel, a bridge between the realms of man and beast."
Ji Yuan felt a surge of fear and awe as the flame floated toward him, hovering just above his chest. He closed his eyes, his mind racing, his heart pounding with a mixture of terror and acceptance. And then, with a sudden, searing heat, the flame sank into his chest, a brand of crimson light that burned through his very soul, filling him with a power that surged and twisted, awakening something deep within him that he had never known existed.
As the pain subsided, Ji Yuan opened his eyes, his breath ragged, his entire body trembling from the force of the mark that now pulsed within him. The Kirin's gaze softened, a faint glimmer of something that might have been respect flickering in its golden eyes.
"I grant you this, mortal," it murmured.