Chapter 3: Pursued by Shadows
The wind carried the scent of steel and blood.
Xiao Lian tightened his grip on the newly awakened Windblade, its translucent form humming with unseen power. The scarred man and his assassins moved like specters, their dark robes blending with the shifting shadows of the trees.
Yun Mei took a step forward, her expression unreadable. "Who sent you?" she asked, her voice calm but edged with warning.
The scarred man chuckled, unsheathing twin curved daggers. "It does not matter. The boy dies tonight. The Aetherbound should have stayed buried in the past."
Without another word, he lunged.
The Dance of the Wind
Xiao Lian barely had time to react. The assassin's movement was fast—unnaturally so. In a blink, he closed the distance, daggers flashing toward Xiao Lian's throat.
Instinct screamed at Xiao Lian to raise his sword, but his body was too slow.
A gust of wind exploded between them. Yun Mei moved like a phantom, her sleeve brushing the air as she redirected the attack. The scarred man stumbled backward, eyes narrowing.
"You think an old woman can stop me?" he sneered.
Yun Mei sighed. "Xiao Lian," she said without turning, "this is your battle."
Xiao Lian swallowed hard. His body still felt light—almost weightless—since awakening the Windblade. But he was untested. He had never fought against real killers before.
"Trust the wind," Yun Mei said softly.
The scarred man attacked again, his daggers gleaming in the moonlight. This time, Xiao Lian moved.
Step, pivot, strike.
He dodged the first slash by the width of a hair, his feet barely touching the ground. The wind carried him, his sword rising in a flash.
A deep gash appeared on the assassin's sleeve. The man leaped back, eyes widening. "Hmph. You can actually use it."
Xiao Lian was just as surprised as his enemy. The Windblade was moving faster than he ever had before—like it was guiding him rather than the other way around. He could feel the wind shifting around him, responding to his intent.
But there was no time to think.
The other assassins attacked.
Two rushed him from the sides, their swords slicing in perfect harmony. Xiao Lian's heart pounded. He couldn't block both at once.
Then don't block.
The thought wasn't his own. It came from somewhere deeper, something primal and instinctual.
Xiao Lian twisted his body, letting the wind carry him. He ducked under one blade, spun mid-air, and landed lightly behind his attackers. Before they could react, he slashed.
Whispering Gale.
A thin, almost invisible arc of wind shot from his sword. The assassins barely had time to cry out before they were hurled backward, crashing into the trees.
Xiao Lian landed softly, stunned. What was that technique?
"You are beginning to understand," Yun Mei murmured.
But the fight was not over.
The Killing Intent of the Tempest Fang
The scarred man, still standing, exhaled slowly. "Hmph. So you do have some skill."
He raised one dagger, and the air around him shifted. A low, unnatural hum vibrated through the clearing. The wind no longer flowed—it twisted, spiraling toward him.
Xiao Lian's instincts screamed danger.
He's using the wind too?!
Yun Mei's eyes narrowed. "Be careful. He wields the Tempest Fang, a forbidden technique stolen from the Aetherwind Sect long ago. It allows him to twist and consume the very air around us."
The scarred man grinned. "Smart woman. But it's too late."
The air collapsed inward. A powerful vacuum pulled at Xiao Lian's body, disrupting his balance. Before he could react, the assassin moved.
A flash of silver.
Pain exploded across Xiao Lian's shoulder as the dagger grazed him. He barely twisted away in time to avoid a deeper wound.
He landed, gasping. Blood trickled down his arm. His body felt heavier—like the wind had abandoned him.
The scarred man laughed. "The wind is mine to command now. Let's see how you fight without it."
Xiao Lian clenched his jaw. The wind hadn't abandoned him. It had been stolen. The Tempest Fang was disrupting his flow, taking control of the very air that fueled his power.
But Yun Mei stood still, watching. She wasn't helping.
Because she wanted him to figure it out himself.
Xiao Lian gritted his teeth. He wasn't just fighting this assassin. He was fighting against the nature of the wind itself.
Then it clicked.
The wind cannot be owned. It is free.
His grip on the Windblade tightened. He closed his eyes, feeling the air even as it was pulled toward his enemy. He didn't try to fight the vacuum.
He let go.
Aetherwind Awakens
For a moment, there was nothing. No resistance. No struggle. Just stillness.
Then—a shift.
Xiao Lian exhaled. And the wind rushed back to him.
His sword shimmered, a pulse of light running along the translucent blade. The air surged at his command, breaking free from the assassin's grasp.
The scarred man's eyes widened. "Impossible—"
Xiao Lian moved.
Step, pivot, strike.
A gust of wind wrapped around his body, carrying him forward at blinding speed. The Windblade flashed.
The scarred man tried to dodge, but Xiao Lian was faster.
A single whispering cut.
Silence.
The scarred man staggered, clutching his chest. His daggers fell from his fingers. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a breath of air escaped before he collapsed.
The remaining assassins hesitated—then fled. The forest swallowed them whole.
Xiao Lian lowered his sword. His chest rose and fell, his entire body trembling. His shoulder still burned, but his mind was calm.
He had done it.
Yun Mei approached, her silver eyes reflecting the moonlight. "You broke free from the Tempest Fang."
Xiao Lian exhaled. "I… I felt it. The wind isn't something to be controlled. It's something to move with."
A small smile touched Yun Mei's lips. "Now, you truly walk the path of the Aetherbound."
The wind stirred, whispering in the trees.
Xiao Lian had won his first battle.
But it was only the beginning.
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