Chapter 20: The Echo of Ruin

The storm had passed, but its ghost lingered.

Ling Chen's ears rang with the aftermath of battle. The ruins stood in eerie silence, the scent of blood still clinging to the air like an unshakable presence. His body ached, every nerve raw with exhaustion, but his mind refused to settle. His gaze flickered to Zhan Yi, who stood motionless in the wreckage of their fight, his obsidian blade still dripping crimson.

The enemy had retreated. Or perhaps—

They had simply disappeared.

Ling Chen's fingers twitched, tracing the bruises at his throat. The memory of that man's grip haunted him, a phantom touch lingering like a whisper of unfinished business. He knew Zhan Yi felt it too. The tension in his shoulders, the way his knuckles remained pale against his weapon's hilt—it spoke volumes of the battle waged not just in steel but in the unspoken past.

"You didn't kill him." Ling Chen's voice was hoarse.

Zhan Yi's eyes flickered toward him, dark as the abyss. "He didn't give me the chance."

A humorless chuckle left Ling Chen's lips. "How considerate."

The words felt hollow. Because beneath the surface, something else gnawed at him. The man's last words—

So he's important to you.

The weight of it sat uneasily in his chest. It wasn't just a taunt. It was knowledge. And that made it dangerous.

Zhan Yi turned away, his posture rigid. "We need to move."

Ling Chen hesitated, glancing at the wreckage around them. "Where?"

"Somewhere they can't track us."

Ling Chen wasn't convinced. If that man could find them in the middle of nowhere, what place could possibly be safe? But he followed regardless. Because, for better or worse, Zhan Yi was the only thing standing between him and the things lurking in the dark.

As they moved through the mist-laden ruins, a faint sound pricked at Ling Chen's heightened senses. It was a whisper, just beyond the edge of perception. Not the wind. Not the echoes of their own footsteps.

Something else.

He stopped abruptly. "Wait."

Zhan Yi's stance shifted immediately, blade angled slightly, but he didn't question him. Ling Chen closed his eyes, focusing—

The sound sharpened. A faint resonance. It was coming from the rubble ahead.

A relic?

No. It was…a pulse. Faint. Almost imperceptible. But there.

Ling Chen stepped forward cautiously, brushing away loose stone. Beneath the wreckage, something gleamed. A fragment of shattered jade, etched with intricate, spiraling script. The moment his fingers brushed against it, a tremor ran through his senses.

A memory. A warning. A voice, lost to time—

The chains are breaking.

His breath caught. The jade was still warm.

Ling Chen looked up at Zhan Yi, whose gaze was unreadable. But he knew—

This wasn't over.

And whatever had begun here…

Was only the beginning.