91. Shadows of the Forsaken Path

A heavy silence loomed over the ancient battlefield as Ling Tian stood atop the shattered remnants of a long-forgotten temple. His dual-colored aura—azure and gold—shimmered like celestial flames, casting an ethereal glow across the ruins. His sharp eyes scanned the desolate surroundings, his mind weighed down by the cryptic words of the mysterious figure he had just encountered.

"The Ling Clan… erased from history?"

That single phrase had shaken him more than any battle ever had. The memories of his home, his family, and the endless training under his father's watchful gaze came rushing back. But now, doubt crept into his heart. If the Ling Clan had truly been wiped from existence, then who was behind it? And more importantly—why?

Xu Qing'er stood a few steps away, her delicate features clouded with concern. She had seen the flicker of pain in his eyes, the momentary hesitation that was so uncharacteristic of him. Stepping forward, she placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Ling Tian," she said softly. "You can't let this shake you. No matter what happened, you are still here. You carry their blood, their legacy. If someone tried to erase your clan… you must be the one to carve their name back into history."

Ling Tian clenched his fists. The storm within his soul calmed slightly at her words. He turned to look at her, and in that moment, he saw not just a companion, but something deeper—an unspoken connection that had always been there.

Before he could respond, a sudden shift in the air made both of them snap to attention. A dense killing intent surged from the darkness, and without hesitation, Ling Tian flicked his fingers. The space around him trembled as golden sword light slashed forward, tearing through the shadows.

A cold laugh echoed from the ruins.

"Heh… I expected nothing less from the one who defied the Forsaken Path."

From the shattered debris emerged a figure clad in obsidian armor, his face hidden beneath a dark mask. The insignia of the Forsaken Path—a forbidden sect long thought to have vanished—was etched across his chest.

Ling Tian narrowed his eyes. The Forsaken Path… a name buried in history, yet somehow tied to his journey.

"You should not have come here, Ling Tian," the masked figure continued, his voice laced with mockery. "This is not your battle to fight. Leave now, and I may consider letting you live."

Ling Tian chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Let me live? You must be new to this world if you think you have a say in my fate."

Without another word, he vanished. A gust of wind tore through the battlefield as he reappeared before the masked warrior, his palm glowing with golden radiance. The force behind his strike shattered the ground beneath them, sending shockwaves rippling through the ruins.

The masked warrior barely had time to react. He raised his arm to block, but the sheer might behind Ling Tian's attack sent him crashing backward, slamming into a broken pillar. Blood trickled from the edges of his mask as he groaned.

"Tch… Impressive." He wiped the blood from his lips and slowly stood. "But you will not leave this place alive."

With those words, the surrounding darkness thickened. The ruins trembled as multiple figures emerged from the shadows—each one radiating the same sinister aura as the masked warrior.

Xu Qing'er stepped forward, her own aura flaring. "This is an ambush."

Ling Tian smirked. "Good. That saves me the trouble of hunting them down."

With a flick of his wrist, the golden sword in his hand expanded, its radiance illuminating the entire battlefield. His presence alone sent fear rippling through his enemies.

And then—he moved.

Like a streak of divine light, he cut through the darkness, his blade weaving through the air with unparalleled precision. The Forsaken Path assassins barely had time to react before their bodies were torn apart, their souls extinguished by Ling Tian's relentless might.

Xu Qing'er followed closely, her own power erupting like a blossoming lotus. Together, they danced amidst the chaos, their strikes weaving a symphony of destruction.

In mere moments, the battlefield was silent once more.

The masked warrior, now the last one standing, stumbled backward in disbelief. "Y-You… What kind of monster are you?"

Ling Tian stepped forward, his sword dripping with golden flames. "The kind that does not forgive."

With one final stroke, the masked warrior's body was cleaved in two, his screams fading into the void.

As silence settled once more, Ling Tian turned his gaze to the distant horizon. The battle had ended, but his path was only beginning.

Somewhere in the shadows, a greater force was watching.

And they were waiting for him.

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