The sky remained dark, still holding the remnants of wrath from the battle before. A massive crater scarred the valley's heart, as if gods and demons had clashed just moments ago. Amid the rubble and dust, Xuan Di's body lay unconscious. His breathing was weak, his body barely moving.
Yan Zhian stood tall, though his limbs trembled. Blood soaked his shoulders, and his eyes were dim. He looked down at his fallen disciple... and felt his heart shatter more than his battered body ever could.
"Forgive me," he murmured like a prayer. "But this world has never allowed gentleness in strength."
Before he could take a single step, a sharp presence tore through the air.
Zlash!
Blood sprayed.
Yan Zhian staggered. An unfamiliar sword pierced from behind, stabbing deep into his back. He coughed, body stiffening, and turned around with great effort.
Someone stood behind him—clad in silver-white robes, long hair streaked with grey. His gaze was cold. Not filled with anger, but regret… and rejection.
"That's enough," the man said. "You've hurt him long enough, Yan Zhian."
Yan Zhian froze. His breath caught.
"Lu... Zhou…"
Lu Zhou looked at him, emotionless. "You took him from me. Then you forged him into a weapon. Was that your vengeance… for my betrayal?"
"Betrayal?" Yan Zhian scoffed, bitter laughter spilling despite the blood on his lips. "You left Lu Tian when he needed you most. In the middle of war. In the midst of blood. And now… you come with a sword in hand, pretending to be a father?"
The wind howled. Falling leaves bowed to the darkness of the past.
"I had no choice…" Lu Zhou whispered. "You knew. I was hunted by four sects, and—"
"And you chose to run," Yan Zhian cut in sharply. "You weren't the only one hunted back then. But I stayed. I carried your son, gave him a name, taught him to fight—even when he despised me."
Lu Zhou's eyes shimmered. "Taught him… with a whip? With cruelty?"
"I had no gentleness left, Lu Zhou," Yan Zhian said, eyes to the sky. "The world shaped me this way. And I believed… that was the only way he could survive."
"But he didn't survive… he broke."
For a moment, only the rustling of leaves whispered between them. Then, faintly… a weak voice echoed.
"…Father…"
Lu Zhou turned. Xuan Di's eyes fluttered open. His vision was hazy, but he saw a silhouette behind his master.
"…Father…?"
His body trembled. Yet he smiled bitterly. "Heh… so this… is karma…"
Lu Zhou's eyes widened. He stepped forward, reaching out. "Lu Tian—"
But Xuan Di shut his eyes once more. A tear fell—whether from pain… or deep confusion, no one could tell.
"I've been haunted enough… by the past…"
Lu Zhou froze. His hand reached out… but never made it.
Yan Zhian bowed his head. "Now you know the feeling. Watching him cry… and being unable to reach him."
"He doesn't recognize me…" Lu Zhou's voice shook.
"He never did," Yan Zhian replied coldly. "And even if you gave him ten years… you could never erase the ten I shared with him."
Lu Zhou's sword slipped from his hand.
"Why did you come back, Lu Zhou?" Yan Zhian asked softly. "To repent? To beg forgiveness from a boy who doesn't even know who you are?"
Lu Zhou bowed his head. "To see… if there was still a part of him… that called me father."
Silence cloaked the ruined land.
There was no answer.
In the distance, the sun began to rise—shining light over the ruins of battle, and the wounds that still festered between two men who both claimed the title of 'father.'
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