Chapter 92: The Last Remnants of Shen Longwei’s Rule

The battlefield lay in ruins, the echoes of war fading into an eerie silence. Shen Longwei was dead, yet the remnants of his army scattered like embers from a dying fire. Some warriors threw down their weapons, surrendering to the weight of their leader's fall. Others, gripped by fear or blind loyalty, fled into the mountains, their crimson banners torn and dirtied. The once-mighty Scarlet Iron Sect, now fractured, clung to survival by a thread.

Li Feng lay against the broken stone, his breath shallow. His body, once a vessel of unshakable strength, felt hollow, as if something vital had been drained from him. Mei Lian knelt beside him, her fingers trembling as she touched his wrist. His pulse was faint, erratic, and his skin bore the faintest traces of abyssal corruption.

"Li Feng, stay with me," Mei Lian whispered, her voice laced with worry.

Yan Shun stood guard nearby, scanning the retreating forces. His grip on his sword remained firm, his mind churning. Victory had come at a steep price, and the martial world had yet to understand what that price truly was.

A groan interrupted their moment of respite. One of the captured Scarlet Iron Sect warriors, bound and kneeling before them, lifted his head, blood dripping from his temple. His armor was dented, his face bruised, yet his eyes still burned with defiance.

"You think you've won?" the lieutenant spat, his voice ragged. "Shen Longwei was never the true threat. You've merely cut off one head of the serpent. Others wait in the shadows."

Mei Lian narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

The lieutenant laughed bitterly. "The Scarlet Iron Sect never fought alone. We were a means to an end, a pawn on a much larger board." He leaned forward, the ropes around his wrists tightening as he shifted. "You should have left the Abyss sealed. You don't know what you've unleashed."

A cold shiver ran down Mei Lian's spine. She glanced at Li Feng, who remained barely conscious, his body barely holding on. If the lieutenant spoke the truth, then their fight was far from over.

Yan Shun's sword pressed against the prisoner's throat. "Who are you working with?"

The lieutenant merely smirked. "You'll see soon enough."

The ground trembled. A gust of wind howled through the valley, carrying with it an unmistakable presence. Mei Lian turned sharply, her senses sharpening as a familiar figure stepped into view.

Lady Yuexiang.

Draped in flowing silks, untouched by the battle's devastation, she moved with an unsettling grace. The look in her eyes was unreadable, yet something about her presence was different—more deliberate, more calculating.

But it was not just her presence that made the air grow thick with tension.

Standing beside her, clad in robes that should not exist in this world, was a man long thought dead.

Mei Lian's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Yan Shun's grip on his sword tightened.

Li Feng, though weakened, felt a wave of recognition even in his dazed state.

The figure smiled faintly. "It has been a long time."

A ghost from the past had returned.

And the battle was far from over.