Chapter 14: The Red Hand Moves
Stormclouds over the Eastern Sky
The wind had changed.
From the peaks of Mount Huayin, Lin Feng watched a dark ripple move across the horizon—an unnatural storm gathering over the east. Spirit birds veered off course. Cultivator flares blinked like distressed stars in the distance.
Something had happened.
The basin—usually restless—was now holding its breath.
A scout arrived at midday, wrapped in travel grime and blood. He knelt before Lin Feng, chest heaving.
"It's the Iron Serpent Sect," he said. "They've fallen. Overrun in a single night."
Liang Yue turned sharply. "That's one of the Five Middle Sects. Who could do that?"
The scout's voice dropped.
"The Red Hand. But… not as we've known them. Their soldiers moved like ghosts. Some of them… had no eyes. No mouths. Just red masks and silence."
Lin Feng clenched his fists. "They're not hiding anymore."
Li Wei, pale but standing, spoke from the side. "This wasn't an invasion. It was a message. They want us to know they're coming."
---
The Flame Council Gathers
By dusk, Lin Feng, Liang Yue, and Li Wei descended to Dragonroot Hall, a hidden gathering place known only to rogue sect leaders and Flameborn sympathizers.
It was an underground hall built beneath a waterfall—guarded by oath-bound monks of the Silent Torrent Sect, neutral observers who refused to take sides in any war… until now.
Inside the main chamber, nine figures sat in a circle: elders, rogue masters, and wandering cultivators of legend.
Lin Feng and Liang Yue stood at the center.
An old woman with sapphire eyes leaned forward. "The Red Hand now controls three sect strongholds and six outer provinces. They have awakened something buried—something the rest of us forgot."
Another master, blind but smiling, whispered, "The Flameborn prophecy walks again. The stars have burned him into the world."
They all looked at Lin Feng.
He felt the weight of their stares. "I didn't ask to be this."
"No one ever does," said the sapphire-eyed woman. "But if the Mirror Sect truly walks again—if the Hand is only their glove—then this war is not about land."
"It's about memory. And fire."
---
The Return of Yan Zhen
Before dawn, Lin Feng stood outside the waterfall, watching mist drift like ghosts over the river.
He sensed the arrival before he heard it.
Footsteps.
Then a voice he hadn't heard in six years:
> "Still trying to save a world that spat on you, Lin Feng?"
He turned—and there stood Yan Zhen.
Once his best friend. Once a brother-in-blades during their training under the Hidden Lineage.
Presumed dead after the Fall.
He now wore black robes with silver lining, a hood pulled back to reveal a face scarred across the jaw, but still carrying that same crooked smirk.
"Zhen?" Lin Feng whispered.
Yan Zhen nodded. "Still breathing. Still cursing fate. And still better with a blade than you."
They stared at each other for a long time.
Then embraced like brothers.
---
A Mirror Behind His Eyes
But Yan Zhen's presence was not without tension.
Liang Yue kept her distance, watching him with sharp eyes.
At the fire later that night, Yan Zhen finally spoke the truth.
"I was captured during the siege on the Hidden Lineage. They didn't kill me. They… experimented."
Lin Feng's face darkened.
"They carved something into my soul. Mirror qi. Fragmented me. For three years, I didn't know who I was. I saw ten versions of myself. A killer. A coward. A savior. A traitor."
Li Wei whispered, "They tried to make you into one of them."
Yan Zhen nodded. "I barely escaped. But some of it… remains. I can mirror qi. Redirect attacks. See pieces of the future, but never the full picture."
Lin Feng leaned forward. "Why come back now?"
"Because I saw something." His voice turned cold. "I saw you. Surrounded by flames. And in your shadow… was me. Wearing a mask."
---
The Siege of Willowfang Keep
That night, word came that Willowfang Keep, a vital crossroads stronghold, was under siege by the Red Hand. Not for territory—but for a captured soul-seer who once served the Sky Mirror Sect.
"If they get her," Liang Yue said, "they'll know every piece of our strategy. Every soul in our rebellion."
Lin Feng stood.
"Then we move. Tonight."
Yan Zhen rose beside him.
"No masks this time," he said. "Let them know who we are."
---
⚔️ Battle under the Blood Moon
They arrived at Willowfang Keep under the light of a rising blood moon—the sky the color of old wounds.
The Red Hand forces were like phantoms—silent, coordinated, faces hidden behind crimson masks. But Lin Feng led with fire.
The Ashen Saber glowed like a burning star, slicing through frost walls and ghost formations.
Liang Yue fought with brutal grace, defending the soul-seer, a blind woman who cried glowing tears and whispered enemy movements moments before they happened.
And Yan Zhen… he fought like a mirror.
He intercepted Red Hand elites and reflected their own attacks with warped versions of their own qi.
But then—a figure descended from the sky.
The Mirror Blade had returned.
---
Fate Repeats Itself
"You again," the Mirror Blade hissed. "Still wielding a flame you don't understand."
Lin Feng raised his saber. "This time, I do."
Their clash sent shockwaves through the keep—blades meeting with sparks and distortion.
But Lin Feng had evolved.
He activated Soulfire Lotus Bloom—knowing it would cost him.
A lotus of golden fire erupted, consuming the Mirror Blade in a sphere of light and memory.
When it cleared, the Masked Warrior was gone—only the mask remained, cracked down the middle.
Lin Feng fell to his knees—another memory lost.
He blinked.
And forgot the voice of his grandfather.
---
Victory and Warning
The Red Hand retreated.
The soul-seer was saved.
But as she knelt before Lin Feng, tears of glowing silver streaming from her eyes, she touched his hand and whispered:
> "He comes. The one who dreams of ashes. He wears a smiling face… and your own blood."
> "The final war will not be fought with blades… but with what you choose to remember."
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End of Chapter 14