Chapter 8

The dawn air bit at Ren Kai's skin as he stood in the training yard, the cracked stone pillar a silent testament to his growing strength. The faint tremor from Iron Fang Peak lingered in his memory, its blue flare a question mark etched against the stars. Old Man Shen's words—"It's waking again"—echoed in his mind, stirring a restless energy that matched the qi pulsing through his veins. The rune-etched stone in his pocket felt heavier today, its weight a tether to his father's unseen legacy.

Stone Hollow stirred slowly around him, the village waking to the rhythm of creaking doors and clattering pots. Kai's gray disciple robes fluttered in the breeze, the claw sigil stark against his chest. He'd claimed his place among the Iron Fang Clan, but the whispers from the peak—and the unease in Shen's eyes—suggested that place was only the beginning. His qi, newly awakened and sharp as a jagged blade, thrummed with potential he couldn't yet grasp. Today, he'd push it further.

Footsteps crunched behind him, and Kai turned to see Jia approaching, her staff tapping the dirt. Her ankle wrap was tighter today, her limp barely noticeable, and her own shard glowed faintly at her belt. "You're up early," she said, stopping beside him. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"Too much to think about," Kai replied, glancing at the pillar's scars. "You?"

"Same," she admitted, leaning on her staff. "That rumble last night—it wasn't normal. My dad says the mountain's restless every few years, but this felt… personal."

Kai's hand brushed the stone in his pocket. "Shen thinks it's waking up. Something big."

Jia's brow furrowed. "Waking up? What, like it's alive?"

"Maybe," he said, his voice low. "My dad thought so. He found something up there—something tied to this." He pulled the stone out, its rune catching the faint light. "It's not just a trinket."

She studied it, her green qi flickering as she leaned closer. "It's old. I can feel it—there's power in it, like the shards, but different. You think it's why the mountain's rumbling?"

"I don't know," Kai said, tucking it away. "But I'm going to find out."

Before Jia could respond, the training yard filled with the shuffle of feet and the murmur of voices. The other disciples arrived, their gray robes a sea of motion as they prepared for the day's drills. Lian Xue emerged from the elder's hall, her silver-edged robes pristine despite yesterday's dust, her shortsword a quiet threat at her hip. Elder Han followed, his presence a storm cloud, his eyes scanning the group with predatory sharpness.

"Line up!" Han barked, his voice cutting through the chatter. The disciples obeyed, forming ragged rows, Kai and Jia falling in near the front. Han paced before them, hands clasped behind his back. "You're Copper Fangs—barely worth the name. The Trial proved you can survive, but survival's not strength. Today, you'll forge it—or break."

He gestured to Lian Xue. "She'll push you. Forms, sparring, qi control. Slack, and you're out. The clan doesn't carry dead weight."

Lian Xue stepped forward, her gaze cool but commanding. "We start with the Boulder-Shattering Palm," she said. "It's a step up—focus your qi into a single point, release it on impact. Pair up, one striker, one spotter. Move."

Kai paired with Jia again, her staff set aside as she took the spotter's role. They moved to a row of stone slabs—thick, weathered blocks the clan used for mid-level training. Kai squared his shoulders, planting his feet as Lian Xue demonstrated: a slow breath, qi coiling to her palm, then a sharp strike that cracked a slab clean through, dust billowing in its wake.

"Your turn," Jia said, stepping back. "Don't blow your hand off."

Kai grinned faintly, focusing. He'd seen the technique before, envied it when his fists were empty of qi. Now, he had a chance. He breathed deep, drawing the blue energy from his core, guiding it down his arm. It surged, wild and eager, pooling in his palm until it glowed—a faint, pulsing light. He struck the slab, releasing the qi in a burst.

The stone shuddered, a hairline crack splitting its surface, but it held. Kai cursed under his breath, shaking out his stinging hand. The qi had scattered, leaking before the blow landed.

"Too much force," Lian Xue said, appearing beside him. "You're throwing it, not shaping it. Compress it—tight, like a spearhead."

Kai nodded, trying again. He pictured the qi as a needle, not a flood, forcing it into a dense knot. His palm glowed brighter, the light steadying, and he struck. This time, the slab split with a sharp crack, half crumbling to the ground. Dust stung his eyes, but he couldn't hide the grin spreading across his face.

Jia clapped, laughing. "Now that's progress."

Lian Xue gave a rare nod. "Good. Keep refining it. Next pair."

The morning stretched into a blur of drills—Boulder-Shattering Palm, Storm Claw Strike, footwork patterns that left Kai's legs burning. His qi responded better with each attempt, the blue glow sharpening, though it still slipped when he tired. The other disciples struggled too—some cracked slabs, others barely scratched them—but Kai felt their eyes on him, a mix of awe and resentment. Deng and his cronies glowered from across the yard, their own slabs intact, their whispers sharp with envy.

By noon, the sun beat down, sweat soaking Kai's robes. Lian Xue called a break, and the disciples collapsed in the shade, gulping water and rubbing sore limbs. Kai sat with Jia near the pillar, the stone in his pocket a quiet pulse against his thigh. He pulled it out, turning it over in his hands, its rune seeming to shift in the light.

"You're obsessed with that thing," Jia said, sipping from her waterskin. "What's it do, anyway?"

"Saves my life," Kai replied, half-serious. "Wraiths hate it. Guardians too."

She frowned. "You think it's why your qi's so… weird?"

"Weird how?"

"Strong," she clarified. "Unstable, but strong. Mine's steady—green and boring. Yours is like a storm."

Kai shrugged, but her words stuck. His qi was different—raw, almost alive, tied to the shard and the stone. He glanced at Lian Xue, who stood apart, sharpening her sword with a whetstone. She'd promised to dig into his father's past. Maybe she'd found something.

Before he could approach her, a shadow loomed over him. Deng stood there, his scarred face twisted in a sneer, his red qi flickering faintly. "Still playing with rocks, cripple?" he said, loud enough for nearby disciples to hear. "That shard won't make you one of us."

Kai rose, pocketing the stone. "I don't need your approval, Deng."

Deng stepped closer, chest puffed. "Prove it. Sparring circle, now. No tricks—just qi."

Jia grabbed Kai's arm. "Don't. He's baiting you."

"Maybe," Kai said, shaking her off. "But I'm tired of his mouth."

The yard buzzed as disciples gathered, forming a loose ring around the stone circle. Lian Xue watched, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Kai stepped into the ring, Deng opposite him, his red qi coiling like smoke. Kai let his own qi flare—blue, jagged, a storm to Deng's ember.

"Begin," Lian Xue said.

Deng lunged, his fist a blur of red light. Kai dodged, qi surging to his legs, and countered with a Storm Claw Strike. Blue talons raked the air, grazing Deng's arm, drawing a hiss. Deng retaliated, his Boulder-Shattering Palm slamming into Kai's chest. The blow drove him back, pain blooming, but his qi dulled it, keeping him on his feet.

"Too slow!" Deng taunted, striking again. Kai blocked with his forearm, the impact jarring, and pushed his qi harder. The blue claws sharpened, slashing Deng's shoulder, tearing his robe. Blood welled, and Deng snarled, red qi flaring brighter. He charged, fists raining down, forcing Kai to weave and block, his own qi flickering under the onslaught.

Kai gritted his teeth, focusing. He ducked a wild punch, channeling qi to his palm, and struck with the Boulder-Shattering Palm. The blue light compacted, exploding against Deng's chest. The older boy flew back, hitting the ground with a thud, his qi sputtering out. He lay there, gasping, as the crowd fell silent.

"Enough," Lian Xue said, stepping in. "Kai wins. Deng, clean yourself up."

Deng staggered up, glaring, but limped off without a word. The disciples murmured, some nodding at Kai, others whispering. Jia clapped his shoulder. "Told you he'd regret it."

Kai wiped sweat from his brow, his qi settling. "He's not wrong, though. I'm still figuring this out."

"You'll get there," she said. "Just don't get cocky."

Lian Xue approached, her eyes sharp. "Sloppy, but effective. Your qi's growing—fast. Too fast."

"Problem?" Kai asked.

"Maybe," she said. "Come with me. Now."

She led him to a secluded corner of the yard, away from prying ears. The wind carried the scent of pine and frost, the peak looming in the distance. Lian Xue faced him, her voice low. "I found something. An old record—buried deep in the elder's hall. Your father, Ren Tao, didn't just disappear. He was hunting a relic called the Heart of the Fang."

Kai's pulse quickened. "The stone?"

"Not quite," she said. "The stone's a piece—a key, like your mother said. The Heart's bigger—a crystal, older than the clan, buried in the peak's core. Tao thought it controlled the mountain's spirit."

"Controlled it how?" Kai asked, pulling the stone out.

"No one knows," she admitted. "The records stop there—someone scrubbed the rest. But Tao's last entry said it was waking, and he had to stop it. Then he vanished."

Kai stared at the stone, its rune pulsing faintly. "Shen said the same—something's waking now."

Lian Xue nodded. "That tremor last night, the glow—it's no coincidence. Your qi, the stone, the shard—they're tied to it. The elders know more, but they're silent."

"Why?" Kai pressed.

"Fear," she said simply. "Or power. Maybe both. Keep that stone hidden, Kai. If they connect it to you—"

A scream cut her off, shrill and panicked, from the village's edge. Kai spun, qi flaring instinctively. Lian Xue drew her sword, her own qi surging—a steady storm. "Move," she snapped, sprinting toward the sound.

Kai followed, his legs pumping, the stone's pulse syncing with his heartbeat. They reached the outskirts, where a crowd had gathered near the pine grove. A woman—Jia's mother—knelt over a body, sobbing. It was Jia's father, his chest torn open, blood pooling in the dirt. Claw marks raked the ground, deep and jagged, too large for any beast Kai knew.

"Wraith," Lian Xue whispered, her grip tightening on her sword. "But down here? That's impossible."

Kai's stomach twisted. The marks matched the Fang Wraiths from the peak—but broader, crueler. He scanned the trees, qi sharpening his senses, and caught a flicker—red eyes in the shadows, then gone.

"Kai!" Jia pushed through the crowd, her face pale. She saw her father and froze, staff slipping from her hand. "No…"

Kai grabbed her arm, steadying her. "Jia, I'm sorry—"

"It's not safe," Lian Xue cut in, scanning the grove. "Everyone, back to the yard—now!"

The crowd scattered, dragging Jia's mother away as she wailed. Kai helped Jia retreat, her eyes glassy with shock. The village buzzed with fear, disciples drawing weapons, elders emerging from their halls. Elder Han appeared, his face a mask of fury.

"Wraiths in the Hollow?" he roared. "Who stirred this?"

His gaze landed on Kai, sharp and accusing. Kai met it, the stone burning in his pocket. He didn't answer, but the weight of Han's stare—and the mountain's distant rumble—told him the truth was closing in.

Back at the yard, the disciples huddled, whispers flying. Jia sat against a pillar, staring blankly, her shard clutched in her lap. Kai knelt beside her, guilt gnawing at him. "We'll find it," he said. "Whatever did this."

She nodded, voice hollow. "It's not just a wraith, Kai. It's something worse."

Lian Xue joined them, her sword still drawn. "She's right. That wasn't a normal guardian. The Heart of the Fang—your father's relic—it's stirring the peak. And it's coming for us."

Kai's hand closed around the stone, its pulse stronger now, a call he couldn't ignore. The mountain watched, its secrets spilling into the Hollow. His father had chased that truth and died for it. Now, it was Kai's turn to face the depths—and whatever waited there.

He stood, qi flaring blue at his fists. "Then we fight it."

Lian Xue's lips twitched, almost a smile. "You're not ready."

"Doesn't matter," Kai said, jaw set. "It's here."

The wind howled, carrying the peak's whisper—a challenge, a warning, a promise. Kai squared his shoulders, the stone's call echoing in his blood. The forge of the Fang had ignited, and he'd either temper his soul—or shatter against the storm.