The descent from the shrine was slower, heavier. Every echo of stone beneath their feet, every breath of mountain wind now held weight. SongLian felt it, the pressure building around them like the stillness before a thunderclap.
Beside her, YunZhenmoved with disciplined grace, but his hand never left the hilt of his sword. The shrine had not only revealed truths, but it had awakened something.
Something that followed them. They had nearly reached the lower ridge, where the pines grew dense and the mist curled thick among the trunks, when Song Lian stopped.
Her eyes scanned the treeline. "We're being watched."
Yun Zhen nodded slowly. "I know."
The attack came not with the roar of a beast, but the silence of a falling feather. One moment, the trail was empty. Next, a figurecloakedinjet-blackrobes stood in their path, face hidden beneath a mask etched with silver veins. The only sound was the faint click of their staff as it struck the stone beneath them.
"The Key walks beside the False King," the figure said, voice soft and emotionless. "How poetic."
Song Lian stepped forward, dagger drawn but held low. "You're with the Black Hall."
The figure dipped its head. "A mere messenger. The First Blade watches you, Song Lian. You were never meant to enter this world."
Beside her, Yun Zhen's aura shifted, calm no longer, as he stepped in front of her.
"You'll speak to her with respect," he said, drawing his sword with a smooth hiss. A faint laugh echoed from beneath the mask.
"How quaint. You would protect her from fate itself?"
And then the figure moved.
They came with speed that blurred the air, staff spinning like a storm, striking with precision born of years of lethal discipline. Yun Zhen blocked the first strike, then the second, his feet shifting on instinct.
Song Lian darted to the side, using the terrain to her advantage. From her belt, she drew three short-blade darts, flicking her wrist with deadly intent. The emissary deflected them with the end of their staff, whirling back toward her.
Yun Zhen intercepted. Steel rang against stonewood, a burst of sparks flaring between them. For every strike Yun Zhen landed, the emissary returned two, their movements unnaturally fluid, almost inhuman.
Song Lian took a breath, crouched low behind a boulder, and reached for something hidden in her boot, a needle-thin blade she had once bought in a quiet town three lifetimes ago.
She waited. Watched. And when the emissary overextended, turning to strike Yun Zhen's flank but she moved. The blade found its mark, sliding beneath the masked figure's ribs. A hiss, sharp and furious, burst from beneath the mask.
"You dare," they spat, turning toward her.
"Every time," Song Lian said coldly.
Yun Zhen didn't hesitate. With a powerful thrust, he drove his sword into the emissary's side. There was a crack of bone, of spell, of silence breaking, and the figure crumpled to the ground.
But not before whispering, "We are many. You are alone."
Their body dissolved into black ash, scattered by the wind.
They stood in the mist, breathing hard. Song Lian's side stung, a shallow cut along her ribs leaking through her tunic. Yun Zhen turned to her immediately, his expression tight.
"You're hurt."
"It's nothing," she said, though her face was pale.
"You should have stayed behind the ridge," he said, voice harder now.
"And let you face that alone?" she snapped, stepping back. "I'm not some helpless court girl, Yun Zhen. I came into this world fighting."
He stared at her, then nodded once. "I know. I just…" He paused, then added quietly, "I don't want to lose you."
Her breath caught. The words were simple, raw, and they cut deeper than any blade.
She looked away, throat tight. "I don't want to lose you either."
Before they left, Song Lian knelt where the emissary had fallen. Among the black ash was a single object, an obsidian shard inscribed with the BlackBladesigil, but this one was fractured. As she touched it, a brief vision flared behind her eyes.
A dark hall filled with whispering shadows. A throne carved of bone and void. A figure was watching her from behind a curtain of fire. She gasped and dropped the shard.
Yun Zhen caught her before she fell. "What did you see?"
She shook her head. "Something… coming."
He didn't press. Instead, he took her hand in his and held it all the way down the trail, never letting go.