Chapter 42: Secrets in the Wind

The journey through the treacherous mountain passes was grueling. The jagged peaks cut against the sky like the fangs of a great beast, and the cold wind howled through the crevices, carrying with it an eerie silence. Li Feng led the group, his mind heavy with the weight of his decision. Yan Shun and his warriors moved with a calculated grace, their presence like shadows against the mountainside. Yet, for all their skill, a thick tension had begun to settle among them.

Zheng Wei, ever the skeptic, finally broke the silence. "We are supposed to trust you, Yan Shun, but how are you any different from Shen Longwei? Both of you manipulate warriors into serving your causes. How do we know your path is any better?"

Yan Shun did not stop walking. His gaze remained fixed ahead, though his voice was even. "I don't expect blind trust, monk. But know this—unlike Shen Longwei, I do not seek power for its own sake. The Azure Shadows were born from those who refused to let the Dragon Clan's legacy die in shame."

Mei Lian studied Yan Shun closely, her sharp gaze searching for deception. "A noble cause," she said. "But you speak as if this fight is personal. What did Shen Longwei take from you?"

For the first time, Yan Shun hesitated. His jaw tightened, but he did not answer immediately. The pause was brief, but it was enough for Mei Lian to know she had struck something deep.

"It doesn't matter," he finally said, his voice clipped. "What matters is that Li Feng must gain control over the Coiled Dragon Ring before it consumes him. If he fails, the battle will be over before it even begins."

Li Feng exhaled, feeling the weight of the ring pressing against his skin. He had been told this before—by Lady Yuexiang, by the Guardian of the Phoenix Temple—but hearing it again, from someone like Yan Shun, made it seem more real. He clenched his fist, as if tightening his grip on his own fate.

The conversation was cut short when Mei Lian suddenly stopped. "Wait," she whispered, her gaze sweeping over the landscape. "Look there."

Before them lay a ruined temple, its stone pillars half-buried in the earth, tangled with creeping vines. The air was thick with an unnatural stillness, as if the place itself was holding its breath. Ancient murals covered the temple walls, depicting a battle long forgotten. One image stood out—The Coiled Dragon, locked in combat with a figure shrouded in darkness.

"What is this?" Li Feng muttered as he traced his fingers over the carvings.

"The lost history," Yan Shun murmured, eyes narrowing as he studied the mural. "The Coiled Dragon did not fight alone. There was another enemy—one erased from history."

Before they could contemplate further, an unnatural chill settled over them. Mei Lian was the first to react, her body tensing. "We're not alone."

A low, mocking chuckle echoed through the ruins.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd notice," a voice drawled.

From the shadows emerged Jiang Ren, his dark armor gleaming under the faint morning light. His face bore fresh cuts, but his eyes burned with unyielding malice. He stepped forward, flanked by a dozen assassins, their crimson masks concealing their expressions.

"You've led me on quite the chase, Li Feng," Jiang Ren said, casually twirling a dagger in his hand. "But it ends here."

Li Feng's muscles coiled. His grip on his sword tightened, his instincts screaming at him to act.

Yan Shun sighed. "I was hoping for a moment's peace before dealing with rats."

Jiang Ren's smirk widened. "Then you should have chosen a different battlefield."

The assassins moved in, their figures melting into the shadows, surrounding the group on all sides.

Li Feng exhaled sharply, his pulse quickening. "We fight."

With that, the silence shattered. Swords clashed, shadows danced, and the battle began.