The Ye Clan estate braced under a dusk sky heavy with iron-gray clouds, the air thick with the hum of qi and the scent of blood-soaked earth from the Lin Clan's retreat. The courtyard flickered with tension, the fire spitting embers as Ye Hua patched a torn cloak, her gray eyes darting to the hill where Iron Fang banners now loomed. Ye Qing stood at the gate, his spear a steady pillar, his grizzled voice snapping at Ye Jun and Ye Mei to pile more logs. Ye Chen knelt by the barricade, etching a ward into a chipped stone, his twisted leg braced but his focus razor-sharp. Ye Ling darted along the western wall, her dagger a restless spark, her braid whipping with each tense stride.
Lin Feng stood atop the gatehouse, his silhouette a dark blade against the fading light. The Lin Clan's flight had sharpened the Ye Clan's edge, but Iron Fang's gray banners signaled a heavier blow—steel honed by sect pride. His muddy-brown eyes pierced the gloom, calm yet relentless. Inside, Zhan Tian's divine soul surged, the seal's fracture a molten abyss spilling golden qi into his veins. Each clash tore it wider—a storm breaking its bonds, forging this frail shell into a weapon of retribution. He tilted his head, the hum vibrating through the stone, power surging within—not yet the god's might of old, but a tempest to crush the proud.
Ye Ling climbed up, her boots slipping on damp stone, her voice a low growl. "Iron Fang again," she said, dagger spinning. "They don't quit."
"They're stubborn," Lin Feng replied, descending. "This time, they've brought more."
Her grin flashed, fierce and wild. "Good. More to cut."
"They'll cut deeper," he said, meeting her fire with frost. "Get them ready."
The clan rallied in the courtyard, their movements a thread of iron through their dread. Ye Qing planted his spear, Ye Chen pocketed his stone, and Ye Hua stood with the kids, her hands clenched tight. Lin Feng faced them, his presence a steady flame in the gathering dark.
"Iron Fang's back," he said, voice slicing the air. "Stronger—angrier. They want us crushed. We don't bow. We break them."
Ye Qing's grip tightened, his voice rough. "How many?"
"More than before," Lin Feng said, eyes glinting. "Woods to slow them, walls to hold. I'll take the front."
Ye Chen's sharp gaze cut through, probing. "They keep coming. Why you?"
"I'm their thorn," Lin Feng said, unyielding. "Move."
The clan surged into action. Ye Ling darted to the woods, rigging snares with a hunter's haste—barbed twine stretched taut, stakes driven deep. Ye Chen carved wards along the walls, his strokes swift, the air thrumming with unseen power. Ye Qing and the kids piled logs into a jagged barricade, their small hands steady despite the hum. Lin Feng worked alone, etching a deeper array into the gate's keystone—a lattice of qi, primal and fierce, pulsing with intent. The seal flared as he channeled power, pain spiking through his ribs, but he pressed on—a trap for the bold.
The hum sharpened—boots and steel clashing like a war drum. Shadows crested the hill—fifteen Iron Fang warriors in gray armor, their qi a disciplined storm—Core Formation peaks, a few brushing Foundation's edge. At their head strode a man, broad and scarred, his qi a rumbling furnace—Foundation Establishment, early-stage, stronger than Huo Shan. Gao Jun, his enforcers called him, his warhammer slung over his shoulder, its head etched with crimson runes. Twelve warriors flanked him, swords and spears gleaming, their auras a tight net of intent.
Gao Jun halted before the woods, his voice a growl that shook the leaves. "I'm Gao Jun, Iron Fang's Hammer. You've bloodied our pride, Ye scum. Hand over the wanderer, or I'll smash this hovel to dust."
Ye Qing stepped forward, spear leveled, his voice a snarl. "He's ours. Come try."
Gao Jun's laugh was a rough bark. "Try? I'll crush." He swung his hammer, qi flaring—a crimson wave splitting a tree in half. The warriors charged, a tide of steel and power.
Lin Feng stepped beyond the gate, alone. "Hold," he murmured to the clan, then moved forward. The warriors hit the woods—Ye Ling's snares snapped, barbs slashing armor, stakes tripping boots. Three stumbled, cursing, as her dagger flashed from the shadows, nicking a throat before she darted back. Ye Chen's wards pulsed, slowing the rest, their steps faltering. Ye Qing hurled a log, smashing a shoulder with a crack.
Gao Jun barreled through, his hammer swinging—a crimson arc tearing the earth. Lin Feng ducked, the strike grazing his cloak, and lunged—qi surging, the seal's fracture splitting wide, golden light flooding his veins. Pain seared his core, but he struck Gao Jun's arm—qi hardening his fist to iron—a dull thud rippling through the warrior's frame. Gao Jun grunted, shock flickering in his eyes, and swung again—faster, a storm of crimson.
Lin Feng wove through, palming a runed stone. He tossed it at Gao Jun's feet—the array flared, a cage of force gripping his legs. Gao Jun roared, qi surging to break free, but Lin Feng struck his chest—a golden pulse cracking ribs. The hammer faltered, dipping into the mud.
The warriors pressed the gate, blades and spears hammering the barricade. Ye Ling darted out, her dagger slashing a thigh, blood spraying as she ducked back. Ye Chen's sling cracked, a stone smashing a helm with a clang. Ye Qing roared, spearing a gut, his spear bending under the strain. Ye Mei peeked from the hall, clutching a rock— "Now!" Lin Feng shouted. She hurled it, small but fierce, striking Gao Jun's hand as he rose. The hammer slipped, and Ye Ling pounced, her dagger slashing his arm—a crimson line blooming.
Gao Jun's qi flared—Foundation's early-stage surging, a crimson storm. Lin Feng met it, the seal's golden tide roaring—pain a forge as it split wider. He dodged, striking Gao Jun's knee—a sharp snap—and the warrior staggered, hammer dragging. The enforcers pressed harder, their qi a disciplined wave. Ye Qing's spear pierced armor, Ye Chen's stones felled another, and Ye Ling's dagger danced, claiming a life.
Gao Jun swung, desperate, qi blazing. Lin Feng caught the hammer mid-strike—qi a shield against the crimson edge—golden light flaring bright. The seal screamed, its fracture breaking wider, and he twisted, wrenching the weapon free. He hurled it into the woods, then drove a fist into Gao Jun's jaw—a golden burst dropping him to the dirt, out cold.
The warriors faltered, half down, the rest retreating. Gao Jun stirred, coughing blood, glaring up. "The sect… will end you," he rasped, dragging himself back.
Lin Feng loomed over him, voice a quiet blade. "Tell them I'm waiting. Next time, I keep the hammer."
The Ye Clan erupted—Ye Ling's wild cheer, Ye Qing's booming laugh, Ye Chen's stunned grin. Lin Feng turned, the golden qi fading, his hands trembling but steady, breath ragged from the strain.
Ye Qing thumped his back, grinning. "You're a damn whirlwind, lad! Smashed 'em again!"
Ye Ling wiped her dagger, her eyes blazing. "Hammer-boy's down—you're a monster!"
Ye Chen limped forward, his voice sharp. "You broke a Foundation cultivator. That's no trick."
Lin Feng flexed his hands, shrugging. "He overestimated himself. That's his fall."
That night, the clan huddled in the hall, the fire roaring with scavenged wood. Ye Hua bound Lin Feng's grazed knuckles, her voice soft. "You're our storm," she said, tears brimming. "We'd be dust without you."
"Storms rise," he said, letting her tend them. "We're forging tougher."
Ye Ling sat close, her tone low. "You glowed—gold, bright as lightning. Don't dodge."
He met her gaze, steady. "Stay with me. You'll see."
She smirked. "Always."
Later, alone by the gate, Lin Feng knelt, tracing the keystone's fading array. The seal's fracture burned—a golden maelstrom he could barely leash. Gao Jun's Foundation qi had torn it wider—a mortal's steel clashing with a god's essence. He guided the power, forging his frame—muscles hardening, pain a tempering flame.
Ye Chen joined him, his shadow faint. "They'll keep coming," he said, blunt. "Iron Fang won't stop."
Lin Feng rose, meeting his eyes. "Let them. We'll break them all."
Ye Chen's lips quirked—a spark of resolve. As silence fell, a low rumble shook the earth—not steel, but something deeper. Lin Feng's head snapped up—a dark shape loomed in the woods, massive, its qi a void-like pulse, eyes glowing crimson.