The night sky was cloaked in black clouds. Thunder cracked, as if reflecting the wrath of the heavens. Upon the cracked earth, coated in dust and ruin, two figures stood facing one another. On one side stood Yan Zhian, his body battered from the previous battle. On the other, Lu Zhou, eyes burning with fury and the scars of the past.
"Yan Zhian," Lu Zhou's voice trembled with emotion, "you raised my son with cruel hands… without a shred of love."
Yan Zhian stood firm, though his breathing was ragged. "Because he didn't need tenderness. The world offers no mercy. I shaped him so he wouldn't break like his birth father."
"You have no right to speak of my downfall!" Lu Zhou lunged, his right hand gripping a blazing crimson sword. The ground split, a wave of energy crashing toward Yan Zhian with tremendous force.
And so, the battle began. These two—once brothers-in-arms under the same sect—now fought to the death.
Every strike from Lu Zhou's sword carried years of pent-up anger. Yan Zhian blocked, but his body grew weaker. Old wounds reopened. Blood dripped. Yet his eyes remained sharp.
"I know you didn't return just because of your son," Yan Zhian said, staggering but still upright. "You came back out of guilt… for abandoning him."
Lu Zhou snarled, attacking more viciously. The earth around them transformed into a crater. Trees collapsed. The heavens roared.
"Silence! I came to atone! To make up for leaving Lu Tian behind!"
Yan Zhian was hurled into a boulder, but rose with a cold smile. "His name is no longer Lu Tian. He chose to be Xuan Di. He forged his own path… not yours."
Lu Zhou's rage exploded. A red dragon's aura enveloped him, bursting outward. Yan Zhian couldn't dodge. He was thrown dozens of meters away.
"This ends now, Yan Zhian!" Lu Zhou shouted, surging forward, launching a flurry of strikes.
But in that fury, an opening emerged. Yan Zhian closed his eyes, sensing the chaotic rhythm. One stomp, one spiral slash—
ZRAAASH!!
Lu Zhou's right arm was severed. Blood sprayed. He screamed, but before he could retreat, Yan Zhian struck with a forbidden technique—Silent Heaven Pierce—a thrust to a vital point, nearly invisible.
Lu Zhou crashed into the ground, carving a deep crater. His breath caught. His spiritual energy spiraled out of control.
Yan Zhian staggered, trembling, eyes glistening. He walked forward, looking down at his fallen old friend.
"I don't hate you, Lu Zhou… I only hate what you left behind."
Lu Zhou opened his eyes, blood on his lips. "I left him… thinking he'd be safer without me. But instead… he became your shadow."
"I am no one's shadow," a hoarse voice echoed from the rubble. Xuan Di opened his eyes, barely seeing the two men—one standing, one fallen. To him, both his birth father and adoptive father were but silhouettes between light and shadow.
"Is this… karma?" he whispered.
Yan Zhian glanced at Xuan Di. Then he turned, giving Lu Zhou one final look.
"If you survive… protect him, in your own way. I've fulfilled my duty."
He walked away—slow but resolute—letting the night wind carry the silence.
Lu Zhou closed his eyes. Not because he was defeated… but because he finally realized: the true loss was the past they never reconciled.
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