Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Battle at Dawn

The sky burned with the first light of dawn, painting the horizon in hues of crimson and gold. Yet, despite the beauty of the morning, the air was thick with tension.

Xiao Lian stood at the edge of the courtyard, his grip firm around the Windblade's hilt. The events of the previous night still lingered in his mind—the warmth of Yun Mei's body against his, the way her breath had mixed with his own, the whispered promises between tangled sheets. But now, there was no time for tenderness. War had arrived at their doorstep.

Across the valley, banners of the Hidden Fang rippled in the wind. Warriors in dark armor moved like a tide, assembling at the mountain's base. Among them stood Wu Jian—his former brother, now his mortal enemy.

Xiao Lian felt the weight of his destiny settle onto his shoulders. This was it. The moment fate had been pushing him toward.

The First Strike

Master Zhao stood beside him, his expression unreadable. "They will come soon," he said, eyes fixed on the enemy ranks.

Xiao Lian nodded. "And we will be ready."

A horn sounded from below, low and thunderous. The Hidden Fang began their ascent.

From the temple walls, archers nocked their arrows. Swordsmen took their stances. Yun Mei, clad in a dark blue robe, appeared at Xiao Lian's side.

"No regrets?" she asked, a smirk playing on her lips.

He met her gaze, gripping her hand briefly. "None."

The wind surged around them. The moment stretched—then shattered as the first wave of enemies crashed against the temple gates.

Clash of Blades

Xiao Lian moved like a phantom, the Windblade dancing in his hands. The power coursing through him felt different now—stronger, sharper, as if last night's union with Yun Mei had unlocked something deeper within him.

Steel met steel in a deadly symphony. Xiao Lian's blade carved through the enemy ranks, his movements precise and relentless. The wind bent to his will, twisting around him, amplifying each strike.

A masked assassin lunged for Yun Mei. Before Xiao Lian could react, she spun, her twin daggers flashing in the morning light. Blood spattered the stone floor.

She turned, smirking. "I can handle myself, you know."

Xiao Lian chuckled despite the chaos. "I never doubted it."

Brother Against Brother

Then—a presence.

A chill ran down Xiao Lian's spine. He turned just in time to block a downward slash—Wu Jian.

Their swords met in a violent clash.

"You should have joined me, brother," Wu Jian said, his voice cold. "We could have ruled together."

Xiao Lian gritted his teeth. "You lost the right to call me brother the day you betrayed us."

Wu Jian's eyes darkened. "Then you are a fool."

Their duel was a storm of steel and fury. Xiao Lian fought with everything he had, but Wu Jian was relentless. Blow after blow, their swords sang in the air.

Then—pain.

Wu Jian's blade found its mark, slicing into Xiao Lian's side.

He staggered back, blood staining his robes.

Wu Jian smirked. "You're not strong enough."

Xiao Lian's vision blurred, but then—a whisper. The wind curled around him, lifting him, filling him with something ancient, something powerful.

Not yet.

With renewed strength, Xiao Lian surged forward, the Windblade glowing with ethereal light.

Wu Jian's smirk vanished.

Xiao Lian struck.

The wind roared.