Chapter 9

The training yard of Stone Hollow buzzed with tension as dusk settled over the village, the sky bruising purple above Iron Fang Peak. Ren Kai stood near the stone pillar, his gray robes streaked with sweat and dust, the Fang Crystal shard a steady pulse at his belt. His qi thrummed in his chest, a blue storm simmering beneath his skin, sharper now after days of training but still wild at the edges. The stone from his father rested in his pocket, its rune warm and insistent, a heartbeat he couldn't ignore.

Around him, the disciples whispered, their eyes darting to the pine grove where Jia's father had been torn apart. The claw marks in the dirt—too large, too precise—haunted the Hollow, a wound that bled fear into every corner. Jia sat slumped against a pillar, her staff across her lap, her shard glowing faintly green in her clenched fist. Her face was a mask of grief, her usual spark dulled by loss. Kai wanted to say something, anything, but words felt hollow against her pain.

Lian Xue paced the yard's edge, her silver-edged robes catching the fading light, her shortsword drawn and gleaming with a faint qi sheen. Elder Han stood at the center, his gray presence a thunderhead, barking orders to disciples who scrambled to light torches and reinforce the village's crude palisade. The wraith—or whatever had struck—had vanished into the trees, but its shadow lingered, a promise of worse to come.

Kai approached Jia, kneeling beside her. "You holding up?"

She didn't look at him, her voice a rasp. "He taught me the staff. Said it'd keep me safe." She tightened her grip on it, knuckles whitening. "Didn't keep him safe."

Kai's chest tightened. "We'll get it, Jia. Whatever it was."

Her eyes flicked to him, sharp with anger. "You don't know that. You don't even know what's out there."

He didn't argue. She was right—he didn't know. But the stone's pulse, the mountain's rumble, the flare of his qi—they all pointed to something bigger, something tied to his father's fate. He stood, offering her a hand. "Come on. Sitting here won't change it."

She hesitated, then took his hand, pulling herself up. "Fine. But if we're hunting it, I'm not staying behind."

Lian Xue joined them, her expression grim. "You won't have to. Han's forming a patrol—outer disciples, Copper Fang rank. We're scouting the grove at first light."

Kai nodded, his qi flaring instinctively. "I'm in."

"You're not ready," Lian Xue said, echoing her warning from earlier. "But you're stubborn, and we're short on bodies. Stay sharp—and don't die."

Elder Han's voice boomed across the yard. "Patrol volunteers, front and center! Now!"

Kai and Jia stepped forward, joining a ragged line of six others—nervous faces, flickering qi, weapons clutched tight. Deng was among them, his scarred cheek twitching, his red qi smoldering. He glared at Kai but said nothing, the bruise from their spar still dark on his jaw. Han scanned the group, his eyes lingering on Kai with a mix of suspicion and grudging respect.

"Wraiths don't come this low," Han growled. "Something's wrong—stirred up, maybe. You're not hunting it—you're scouting. Find tracks, signs, anything. Back by noon, or we assume you're dead. Lian Xue leads. Move out at dawn."

The group dispersed, disciples murmuring prayers to the Mountain Spirit as they drifted to their huts. Kai lingered, catching Lian Xue's eye. "You think it's the Heart of the Fang?"

She sheathed her sword, her voice low. "Maybe. Your father's relic—if it's waking, it could be drawing the peak's guardians down. Or worse."

"Worse?" Kai pressed.

"Something older," she said, her gaze drifting to the peak. "The records hint at it—things sealed in the depths, before the clan was born. Keep that stone close, Kai. It's your edge."

He nodded, the weight of her words settling like frost. As she walked off, Jia nudged him. "You're neck-deep in this, aren't you?"

"Looks that way," he admitted. "You don't have to come tomorrow."

"Yes, I do," she said, her jaw set. "For him."

Kai didn't argue. He understood—better than most.

The night passed in a haze of restless quiet. Kai lay on his mat, the shard's glow a soft beacon beside him, the stone pulsing in his hand. His mother, Lin Mei, knelt nearby, grinding herbs by lamplight, her hands trembling more than usual. She hadn't spoken since he'd told her about the attack, but her silence was loud with worry.

"Ma," he said, sitting up. "You knew this might happen, didn't you? The stone, Dad's relic—it's waking something."

She froze, then set the pestle down, her voice barely a whisper. "I hoped it wouldn't. Your father… he said the Heart of the Fang was alive—angry, ancient. He thought he could tame it, use it to protect us. Instead, it took him."

Kai gripped the stone tighter. "Why didn't you destroy it?"

"I tried," she said, tears glinting in her eyes. "Fire, hammer—nothing worked. It's bound to the mountain, to him… and now to you."

He stared at her, then at the stone. "Then I'll use it. Whatever's coming, I'll stop it."

She reached for him, her hand cold against his. "Promise me you'll come back, Kai. I can't lose you too."

"I will," he said, squeezing her hand. "I promise."

Sleep came fitfully, dreams of blue light and clawing shadows chasing him until the first gray of dawn crept through the hut's cracks. He rose, donning his robes, the shard and stone secure at his belt. Lin Mei watched him go, her eyes a silent plea he carried as he stepped into the cold.

The patrol gathered at the yard's edge, torches flickering in the predawn gloom. Lian Xue stood at the front, her qi a steady storm, her sword ready. Kai and Jia flanked her, Deng and the others—a wiry girl named Mei, a stocky boy called Chen, and two quiet twins—forming a tense half-circle. Han loomed behind, his presence a warning.

"Stick together," Lian Xue said, her voice cutting through the wind. "No heroics. We scout, we report. Clear?"

Nods rippled through the group. Kai's qi flared briefly, blue at his fists, and he caught Deng's sneer. "Don't trip over your shiny new power, cripple."

"Keep up, Deng," Kai shot back, "and maybe you won't need me to save you."

Lian Xue silenced them with a look. "Move."

They trekked into the pine grove, the air thick with the scent of resin and decay. The claw marks scarred the earth near Jia's hut, bloodstains dark and sticky. Jia knelt beside them, her fingers tracing the gashes, her face hardening. "Too big for a wraith," she muttered. "What is this?"

Lian Xue crouched, examining the tracks. "Fang Wraith, but… altered. Bigger, stronger. Something's feeding it."

Kai's hand brushed the stone, its pulse quickening. "The Heart?"

"Maybe," she said, standing. "Tracks lead north—toward the peak's base. We follow."

The group moved deeper, the pines closing in, their needles muffling sound. Kai's qi sharpened his senses—the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs, the faint hum of something unnatural in the air. The stone pulsed faster, syncing with his heartbeat, and he gripped it through his robe, unease coiling in his gut.

An hour in, the trees thinned, revealing a rocky clearing at the mountain's foot. The tracks converged on a cave mouth—dark, jagged, exhaling a chill that prickled Kai's skin. Blue light flickered deep within, faint but unmistakable, matching the shard at his belt.

"There," Lian Xue whispered, her sword half-drawn. "That's no natural cave."

Jia's staff glowed green, her voice tight. "That's where it came from."

Before they could advance, the ground trembled, a low growl rumbling from the cave. Red eyes flared in the dark—two, then four, then six. Three shapes emerged, not wraiths but something worse—hulking beasts of stone and shadow, their claws twice the size of a man's arm, their bodies veined with pulsing blue crystal. Their roars shook the trees, a sound that clawed at Kai's spine.

"Corrupted guardians," Lian Xue hissed, qi surging to her blade. "Fall back—now!"

The group retreated, but the beasts charged, faster than their bulk suggested. Lian Xue slashed at the lead guardian, her sword carving a gash that bled blue ichor, but it swiped her aside, sending her crashing into a pine. Kai shoved Jia behind him, qi flaring to his fists as the second beast lunged.

He struck with the Boulder-Shattering Palm, blue light exploding against its chest. The stone cracked, staggering it, but its claw raked his shoulder, tearing his robe and drawing blood. Pain seared, but his qi dulled it, keeping him upright. Deng and the others scattered, their own qi flaring—red, green, white—in panicked bursts, barely slowing the third guardian.

"Kai!" Jia yelled, her staff swinging. Green qi lashed out, tripping the beast as it lunged again. Kai rolled, grabbing the stone from his pocket. Its rune flared, and he hurled it at the guardian's head. The impact flashed blue, the beast's skull shattering, its body crumbling to dust.

Lian Xue staggered up, blood trickling from her temple, and cleaved through her foe's neck, felling it. The twins and Mei held the third at bay, their qi faltering, until Chen drove a spear into its chest, collapsing it in a heap of rubble.

Silence fell, broken by ragged breathing. Kai retrieved the stone, its warmth fading, his shoulder throbbing. Lian Xue wiped her blade, grimacing. "That was no scout mission. Those weren't normal guardians."

Jia stared at the cave, her voice shaking. "They came from there. My dad—"

"We can't go in," Lian Xue cut in. "Not like this. Back to the Hollow—now."

Kai hesitated, the cave's blue glow pulling at him. The stone pulsed, a call he felt in his bones. "Something's down there," he said. "Something big."

"And it'll kill us if we're not ready," Lian Xue snapped. "Move."

They retreated, dragging their wounded pride and battered bodies. Kai supported Jia, her staff trembling in her grip. Deng shot him a look—half hate, half fear—but stayed silent. The cave loomed behind them, its light a promise of answers and death.

Back at the yard, Han met them with a scowl, his eyes narrowing at their state. "Report."

"Corrupted guardians," Lian Xue said, her voice steady despite the blood on her face. "Three of them, from a cave at the peak's base. Stronger than wraiths, laced with crystal."

Han's jaw tightened. "The Heart of the Fang," he muttered, almost to himself. His gaze flicked to Kai, sharp and searching. "You—your qi stirred this?"

Kai met his stare, the stone hidden but its pulse loud in his mind. "Maybe. My father thought it was alive. Looks like he was right."

Han's expression darkened, but he didn't press. "Rest," he barked at the group. "We'll deal with this tomorrow."

As the patrol dispersed, Jia grabbed Kai's arm, her eyes fierce. "That cave—it's where we start. For my dad."

Kai nodded, guilt and resolve mixing in his chest. "For him. And for mine."

Lian Xue lingered, her sword sheathed but her presence taut. "You're in deep, Kai. That stone—it's not just a key. It's a beacon."

"Then I'll use it," he said, qi flaring blue at his fists. "Whatever's waking, I'll face it."

She didn't argue, but her silence was heavy. The mountain rumbled again, a distant growl that shook the yard's stones. Kai squared his shoulders, the shard and stone his anchors in a storm he couldn't yet see. The Hollow was no longer safe—and neither was he.