The village was quieter than usual as Lin Yu, Elder Wu, and Zhao Feng entered. People moved about their daily tasks, but there was an undercurrent of tension, a palpable unease that seemed to hang in the air. Lin Yu felt it immediately. He noticed the guarded looks exchanged between villagers, the way conversations fell silent when they passed. Word had likely spread about the Hand of Xiangliu's resurgence, and fear had settled like a shadow over the once-peaceful town.
Zhao Feng hurried ahead, making his way toward the village center where several elders were gathered. Lin Yu and Elder Wu followed more slowly, the weight of their next steps heavy on their minds.
As they walked through the narrow streets, Lin Yu couldn't help but feel a growing sense of isolation. The village, a place that had once felt like a sanctuary, now seemed distant, its walls unable to protect him from the danger looming on the horizon. He could still feel Xiangliu's presence inside him, a quiet, simmering force that never truly left. Even with the jade amulet suppressing the worst of its influence, the serpent's whispers lingered in the back of his mind, waiting for a moment of weakness.
**You are fighting the wrong battle,** Xiangliu's voice whispered, its tone smooth and insidious. **These people cannot save you. Their fears, their weaknesses—they will only hold you back. Only I can give you what you need to win.**
Lin Yu clenched his fists, pushing the voice aside. He had resisted Xiangliu's call before, and he would do so again. But he couldn't deny the growing weight of the serpent's influence. It was a battle that never seemed to end.
Elder Wu, sensing Lin Yu's inner turmoil, glanced at him with concern. "You're struggling," he said quietly. "The serpent's voice grows stronger, doesn't it?"
Lin Yu nodded, his expression grim. "It never stops. Even when I push it away, it's always there, waiting."
Elder Wu placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You are stronger than you realize, Lin Yu. You've resisted this long, and that is no small feat. But you must understand that controlling Xiangliu's power will require more than just strength. It will require balance—knowing when to fight and when to let go."
Lin Yu's brow furrowed. "Let go? How can I let go of something that's a part of me? If I lose control for even a moment, the serpent will take over."
Elder Wu nodded thoughtfully. "That is the challenge, isn't it? But controlling the serpent doesn't mean rejecting it entirely. Xiangliu's power is bound to you, but you are still the master of your own will. You must learn to bend that power to your purpose, not let it bend you to its."
Before Lin Yu could respond, Zhao Feng returned from the village center, his expression serious. "The elders are willing to hear us out, but they're afraid. They've heard rumors about the Hand of Xiangliu, and they're worried that even speaking out against the cult will bring danger to the village."
Lin Yu sighed. He couldn't blame them for being afraid—the threat of Xiangliu was unlike anything the village had faced before. But hiding wouldn't protect them. Sooner or later, the Hand of Xiangliu would return, and they wouldn't stop until they had what they wanted.
"We have to convince them," Lin Yu said firmly. "If we don't stand together now, the cult will tear this village apart."
Zhao Feng nodded in agreement, though his expression remained tense. "It won't be easy. The village elders are cautious by nature. They won't risk the safety of the people unless they're certain there's no other choice."
Lin Yu felt a surge of frustration, but he pushed it down. He couldn't let anger cloud his judgment. If they were going to unite the village, he needed to approach this carefully.
"We'll go speak with them," Elder Wu said, his voice steady. "Let them see the truth for themselves. Once they understand the gravity of the situation, they'll realize there's no choice but to fight."
The three of them made their way toward the village hall, where the elders waited. As they entered the hall, Lin Yu could feel the eyes of the villagers on them, their fear palpable in the heavy silence that filled the room. The village elders sat in a semicircle at the far end, their expressions stern and cautious.
One of the elders, a wiry man with silver hair and a sharp gaze, spoke first. "You've brought troubling news, Lin Yu," he said, his voice measured. "The Hand of Xiangliu is not a threat to be taken lightly. But we must also be careful not to act rashly. You say the cult is gathering power, but we have not yet seen any direct threat to the village. Why should we risk provoking them?"
Lin Yu stepped forward, his voice steady but filled with urgency. "The Hand of Xiangliu doesn't need to make a direct threat—they're already preparing for something much worse. We stopped them from using a relic to resurrect Xiangliu's full power, but that was just one part of their plan. If we don't act now, they'll come for us, and by then it will be too late."
The elder's gaze remained fixed on Lin Yu, his expression unreadable. "You speak of ancient powers and dark forces, but we are simple people. What you are suggesting—arming the village, preparing for battle—it would put everyone here at risk."
Zhao Feng spoke up, his voice laced with frustration. "You don't understand. The cult isn't going to give us a choice. They'll come, whether we're ready or not. We need to gather allies, prepare defenses. If we don't, the entire village could be destroyed."
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of the conversation pressing down on everyone present. The elders exchanged uneasy glances, but none spoke.
Elder Wu stepped forward, his calm demeanor commanding attention. "I understand your hesitation," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "But this is not a time for indecision. The forces gathering against us are not like any you have faced before. The Hand of Xiangliu does not want territory or wealth—they want to bring chaos, to reshape the world in their image. And they will stop at nothing to achieve that goal."
The elder with the silver hair frowned, his hands resting heavily on the table before him. "Even if we believe you, what can we do? We are not warriors. Most of the villagers here have never fought a battle in their lives."
Lin Yu felt a flicker of hope. They weren't dismissing the threat outright—they were just afraid. But fear could be overcome. "We don't need an army," he said, his voice steady. "We need people who are willing to defend their home, to stand together. We've fought off the Black Lotus Sect and the cult before, and we can do it again. But only if we stand united."
Another elder, a woman with deep lines etched into her face, spoke up. "And what of you, Lin Yu? You carry the blood of Xiangliu. How can we be sure that you won't bring more danger to us?"
Lin Yu's chest tightened, the question hitting a little too close to home. He had wondered the same thing—was his presence a danger to those around him? Was he a liability in this battle? The mark on his wrist pulsed faintly, a reminder of the serpent's presence.
But he pushed those thoughts aside. He had come too far to doubt himself now.
"I won't let Xiangliu control me," Lin Yu said, his voice firm. "I've fought his influence before, and I'll continue to fight it. But I can't do this alone. If we work together, we can stop the Hand of Xiangliu from bringing this village—and the world—into chaos."
The room fell silent once more, the weight of Lin Yu's words hanging in the air. The elders exchanged glances, their expressions tense, but slowly, they seemed to reach a silent agreement.
The silver-haired elder spoke again, his voice soft but resolute. "Very well. We will prepare as best we can. But know this, Lin Yu—if what you say is true, then this village is in more danger than we have ever been before. We will need every resource we have to survive what is coming."
Lin Yu nodded, a mix of relief and dread washing over him. "Thank you."
As they left the village hall, the sky above had darkened with heavy clouds, casting the village in shadow. The storm was coming—both in the skies and in the looming battle against the Hand of Xiangliu.
Lin Yu's mind was filled with thoughts of what lay ahead. They had the village's support now, but that was only the first step. The real fight was yet to come, and he knew that Xiangliu's influence would only grow stronger the closer they got to the heart of the cult's plans.
And as the wind picked up, carrying the scent of rain, Lin Yu couldn't shake the feeling that the storm, both within and without, was far closer than any of them realized.