The Ye Clan estate stood defiant beneath a midnight sky choked with swirling black clouds, the air thick with the hum of void qi and the fading stench of the Voidborn Titan's corpse. The courtyard lay taut, the fire spitting embers as Ye Hua clutched a patched cloak, her gray eyes wide with dread at the hill where Tian Xu's silhouette loomed, golden eyes glinting like twin suns. Ye Qing gripped his spear at the gate, his grizzled face taut, his voice a growl as he urged Ye Jun and Ye Mei to stay behind the barricade. Ye Chen knelt by the western wall, his ward-stone clutched tight, his twisted leg braced as the earth trembled faintly. Ye Ling prowled the gatehouse, her dagger a restless spark, her braid snapping with each tense stride.
Lin Feng stood before the gate, his silhouette a dark blade against the void. The Titan's fall had forged the Ye Clan into a sharper weapon, but Tian Xu's presence—his sworn brother, his betrayer—ignited a storm of rage and resolve. His muddy-brown eyes locked on the hill, 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 had torn it wider—a tempest breaking free, forging this frail shell into a weapon of vengeance. He tilted his head, the hum vibrating through his bones, power surging within—not yet the god's full might, but a storm to face his past.
Ye Ling dropped beside him, her boots thudding on the earth, her voice a sharp whisper. "That's him," she said, dagger trembling. "Your brother?"
"Once," Lin Feng replied, his tone ice. "Now he's my chain."
Her grin flashed, fierce but tight. "Let's snap it, then."
"He'll snap back," he said, meeting her fire with frost. "Get them ready."
The clan rallied in the courtyard, their movements a thread of steel laced with 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 humming dark.
"Tian Xu's here," he said, voice cutting the air. "My betrayer. He wants me broken. We don't yield. We burn him."
Ye Qing's grip tightened, his voice rough. "The one who sealed you?"
"Himself," Lin Feng said, eyes glinting. "Woods to slow his dogs, walls to hold. I'll face him."
Ye Chen's sharp gaze cut through, probing. "He's strong. Why now?"
"To end me," 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 faint power. Ye Qing and the kids piled logs into a jagged barricade, their small hands trembling but resolute. Lin Feng worked alone, etching a deeper array into the gate's keystone—a lattice of qi, raw and fierce, pulsing with intent. The seal flared as he channeled power, pain spiking through his chest, but he pressed on—a trap for the proud.
The hum swelled—a cold, sharp drone that clawed at the mind. Tian Xu descended the hill, his black robes billowing, his qi a void-like storm—Foundation Establishment, peak-stage, a league beyond Wei Chen. His golden eyes shimmered with mockery, his smile faint but cruel. Behind him marched ten black-robed enforcers, their qi a disciplined shadow—Core Formation peaks, chanting his name in low tones.
Tian Xu halted before the woods, his voice a velvet blade. "Zhan Tian, my brother. Still clinging to this trash heap? Kneel, and I'll spare your pets."
Ye Qing stepped forward, spear leveled, his voice a snarl. "He's ours. Come try."
Tian Xu's laugh rang out, a chilling echo. "Try? I'll erase you." He raised a hand, qi flaring—a dark wave rippling forth. The enforcers charged, a tide of shadow and steel.
Lin Feng stepped forward, alone. "Hold," he murmured to the clan, then faced Tian Xu. The enforcers hit the woods—Ye Ling's snares snapped, barbs slashing robes, 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.
Tian Xu glided through, his golden eyes locked on Lin Feng. "You've grown, brother," he said, qi surging—a void storm tearing the air. He lunged, a palm strike laced with shadow aiming for Lin Feng's chest.
Lin Feng shifted, the strike grazing his shoulder, and countered—qi surging, the seal's fracture splitting wide, golden light flooding his veins. Pain seared his core, but he struck Tian Xu's arm—qi hardening his fist to steel—a dull thud rippling through the betrayer's frame. Tian Xu's smile faltered, shock flickering in his eyes, and he swung again—faster, a vortex of dark qi.
Lin Feng wove through, palming a runed stone. He tossed it at Tian Xu's feet—the array flared, a cage of force gripping his legs. Tian Xu snarled, qi surging to shatter it, but Lin Feng struck his chest—a golden pulse cracking ribs. The betrayer staggered, his smile twisting into a grimace.
The enforcers pressed the gate, shadows and blades 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 Jun peeked from the hall, clutching a rock— "Now!" Lin Feng shouted. He hurled it, small but fierce, striking Tian Xu's hand as he rose. The dark qi faltered, and Ye Ling pounced, her dagger slashing his arm—a wisp of shadow bleeding out.
Tian Xu's qi flared—peak Foundation power surging, a void storm. Lin Feng met it, the seal's golden tide roaring—pain a forge as it split fully open. He dodged, striking Tian Xu's arm—a sharp snap—and the betrayer reeled, his palm strike faltering. 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.
Tian Xu laughed, cold and sharp. "You think this is strength, brother? I sealed you once—I'll bury you now." His qi surged, a dark blade forming in his hand, slashing—a void arc tearing the earth.
Lin Feng caught it bare-handed—qi a shield against the shadow's sting—golden light blazing. The seal screamed, its fracture breaking wider, and he twisted, snapping the blade in two. He drove a fist into Tian Xu's jaw—a golden burst dropping him to his knees, blood flecking his lips. "You buried a god," Lin Feng said, voice a quiet blade. "I'm digging free."
Tian Xu spat, staggering up, his enforcers retreating. "This isn't over, Zhan Tian. You'll kneel yet." He vanished into the dark, his qi a fading echo.
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 firm, breath ragged from the strain.
Ye Qing thumped his back, grinning. "You're a damn titan, lad! Smashed him good!"
Ye Ling wiped her dagger, her eyes blazing. "He's scared now—you're unreal!"
Ye Chen limped forward, his voice sharp. "He's peak Foundation. You hurt him."
Lin Feng flexed his hands, shrugging. "He underestimated me. That's his fall."
That night, the clan huddled in the hall, the fire roaring with looted wood. Ye Hua bound Lin Feng's grazed knuckles, her voice soft. "You're our storm," she said, tears brimming. "We'd be ash 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 the sun. 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. Tian Xu's peak qi had torn it wider—a betrayer's malice 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. "He'll come back," he said, blunt. "Stronger."
Lin Feng rose, meeting his eyes. "Let him. I'll be stronger."
Ye Chen's lips quirked—a spark of resolve. As silence fell, a low hum rose—not shadow, but steel and fire. Lin Feng's head snapped up—red-and-gold banners flickered in the distance, Lin Clan colors, but above them soared a golden eagle, its qi a blazing storm, roaring Tian Xu's triumph.