In the silence after the storm

The storm lasted five days.

Five days of screaming winds, crackling black lightning, and an atmosphere so dense that even birds dropped mid-flight.

The world itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the chaos to end.

And when the storm finally broke, it left behind a realm that no longer looked the same.

---

Ash… Was Gone

The shrine where Ash had fought and claimed the Yin-Yang Lion was now a crater.

No trace of the black-and-white lion.

No body.

No blood.

No aura.

Just devastation.

Entire portions of the forest were flattened, reduced to ashes or swallowed by unnatural sinkholes.

Caves that had existed for centuries were caved in. Rivers had reversed their flow.

Even spiritual beasts had begun migrating, terrified by the remnants of whatever had awakened.

At the edge of the storm's radius, two scouts from Celestial Fang Sect stood in silence.

> "He's... dead?" one whispered.

> "I don't know," the other said. "But if he survived that, he's not the same."

The land was quiet, too quiet.

Too unnatural.

---

Sect in Chaos

Back in the sect, chaos bloomed like rot.

Elder Huo's face was grave.

> "We haven't found the boy," he told the council. "But the readings from the storm confirm it: the power came from him. Ash triggered something ancient… and potentially catastrophic."

The Sect Master stood from his dais.

> "I want him found. Dead or alive."

Everyone looked up, startled.

But the master added,

> "Not to punish him. But to protect him. Something's coming… and he may be the only one who can stop it."

---

Lian Rou & Yan Qing's Search

Lian Rou hadn't rested since the storm began. She had left the sect grounds and joined the search parties herself. Her usually pristine robes were tattered, her hands caked in dirt.

> "Ash… where are you?" she whispered to the wind.

Yan Qing, too, was mobilizing. But not in the same way.

Guided by her grandmother Yan Zhi's advice, she moved more tactically, using scouts and spies—trying to get to Ash before anyone else.

> "If he's alive, he'll remember who came for him first," she told herself.

---

Demonic Realm Stirs

In the Depths Beyond the Rift, where light seldom touched, the Demonic Realm began to stir.

And not just stir.

It marched.

A demon lord with a body like molten rock and wings forged from shadow sat upon a throne of skulls.

He stared into a crystal, watching the image of the destroyed shrine flicker.

> "He lives," he hissed. "The Yin-Yang blood awakened. That power was supposed to be ours."

His lieutenant bowed.

> "Shall we invade, my lord?"

> "No… not yet," the demon lord replied. "Let the humans grow complacent. Let them celebrate survival. Then... we strike."

From the shadows behind them, a woman emerged. Her skin was dark as midnight, her eyes gleaming red.

> "He's the one Aenya fought, isn't he?"

> "Yes," the demon lord said.

> "Then send me."

---

Aenya's Reflection

Far away, Aenya stood in front of her senior commander.

> "It was him. The one from the duel," she said softly.

The commander nodded.

> "Do you regret not killing him?"

> "No," she said, eyes cold. "I regret not knowing who he was. He might be our greatest threat… or our only hope."

---

Meanwhile… In the Unknown

Somewhere far from the shrine—far from even the memory of the storm—a boy lay at the bottom of a glowing ravine, buried beneath rubble and runes. The core of the Yin-Yang altar, which had imploded and reformed itself, was now a sanctum buried underground.

Ash lay motionless, his body wrapped in light and shadow, the aura of the Yin-Yang Lion protecting him.

But deep within his spirit, things were changing.

> Shen Mu stood beside the spirit of the Yin-Yang Lion, watching the fusion progress.

> "His body survived, but his mind… is somewhere else," Shen Mu said gravely.

The lion nodded.

> "He must now conquer not the world, but himself. His rage. His hunger. His fear."

---

The Realm Watches

And all across the continent—noble families, rogue sects, royal thrones, beast tribes, and even the ancient ones that had slumbered for eons—began whispering the same thing:

> "The boy of the storm…"

> "Find him."

> "Before the demons do."

---