The echoes of battle still lingered in the courtyard, but Wang Chung's mind was elsewhere—torn between the present and the fragments of a forgotten war.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, visions flashed relentlessly: endless stars burning, gods falling to the black blade, a voice whispering warnings in the void.
> "You were betrayed, Wang Chung… sealed to save the heavens from your wrath."
Pain stabbed his chest as the memories pressed closer. He staggered, clutching the ground.
Suddenly, shadows moved at the sect's perimeter. Hidden figures cloaked in black—assassins sent to silence the rising threat.
Wang Chung's eyes snapped open, glowing with the Void Palm's dark light.
Without hesitation, he surged forward. His strikes were a blur, void energy tearing through the assassins like a gale.
Xian Yu's voice was calm beside him. "They fear you because you remember. They want to stop you before the seal shatters."
But Wang Chung was no longer the powerless boy. With every fallen foe, the chains on his past loosened.
He rose amidst the fallen, voice steady and fierce: "If they want to kill the Void Sovereign, they'll have to come through me."
The night air crackled. The sect had awakened a storm—and there was no turning back.