Epilogue: The Echoes of Tomorrow

The wind carried the scent of rain and ash, sweeping through the remnants of the battlefield. Time had softened the scars of war, but the echoes of what had been lingered in the air, in the stone, in the weary souls who had survived it.

Li Feng stood at the edge of a quiet valley, watching the sun creep over the horizon. Gold spilled across the hills, painting the world in light. A sight he never thought he'd live to see again. A world not ruled by celestial forces, by warlords and conquerors. Just the world, as it was.

Footsteps crunched against the dirt behind him. Light, but deliberate. Mei Lian. He didn't turn. He didn't need to.

"You're thinking too much," she said, her voice soft but edged with amusement.

He exhaled, the corner of his mouth twitching. "After everything, you expect me to just… stop?"

"Yes," she said simply, stepping beside him. "You did the impossible, Li Feng. Let yourself breathe."

He watched the sky shift, the pale pinks deepening into golds and reds. "It still doesn't feel real."

Mei Lian glanced at him, brushing her fingers absently against the hilt of her sword. "Reality doesn't wait for us to catch up."

A chuckle slipped from his lips. "You always have an answer, don't you?"

She smirked. "Someone has to keep you from drowning in your own head."

They stood in silence for a moment, the world stretching before them like an open book. No divine mandates. No looming war. Just possibility.

Behind them, Yan Shun paced near a makeshift fire, his brows drawn. He hadn't spoken much since the final battle, and that worried Li Feng more than he admitted. The man had always been a restless storm, but now… now he was unreadable.

"You going to say something?" Li Feng called over.

Yan Shun barely spared him a glance. "I think better when I'm quiet."

"That's a first."

Mei Lian snorted, while Yan Shun shot him a glare that barely hid the ghost of a smirk. Then, as if deciding he'd wasted enough time on conversation, he sighed. "We need to move soon. The factions are still shifting, and the wrong people are going to take advantage of that if we don't—"

A rock sailed through the air and hit him squarely in the chest.

Yan Shun blinked, then narrowed his eyes at Mei Lian, who stood with her arms crossed. "Did you just throw a rock at me?"

"Would you prefer a dagger?"

Li Feng ran a hand down his face. "So this is my life now? Stopping you two from murdering each other?"

Mei Lian smirked. "Consider it repayment for all the times you nearly got us killed."

Yan Shun rolled his eyes but let out a grudging chuckle. The tension lifted, just a little.

And then, like a whisper in the wind, a presence stirred.

Li Feng stiffened. His grip tightened around the empty space where his sword had once rested. Someone was watching.

He turned his head slightly, scanning the treeline. Mei Lian and Yan Shun noticed it, too, their bodies shifting into defensive stances. The air felt wrong. Not with the weight of celestial power, not with the remnants of war. This was something else.

A shadow shifted at the edge of the clearing.

Mei Lian reached for her weapon. "Friend or foe?"

Silence.

Then, the figure stepped forward, cloaked in deep gray, their face obscured by the hood's shadow. The voice that followed was smooth, careful. Measured.

"You did well."

Li Feng didn't move. "I don't recall asking for an audience."

"You think this is over?" The figure chuckled, a sound too calm for Li Feng's liking. "You broke the cycle, yes. But cycles don't just vanish. They reform."

A cold dread curled in Li Feng's chest. Mei Lian's grip tightened on her sword. Yan Shun's expression darkened.

The figure tilted their head. "Tell me, Dragon's Heir—did you truly believe fate would let you walk away so easily?"

The wind howled, and the sun, so bright just moments ago, felt swallowed by the weight of the unknown.