The Silent Valley’s Secret – Blade That Cuts the Moonlight

In the aftermath of the duel, the morning fog lingered over the Silent Valley. On a mossy boulder beside a stream, Quang Minh sat cross-legged, breathing slowly, hands resting on his knees. The scroll from Thất Tàn Hầu lay open beside him — "Thiên Tuyệt Hậu Thức", the final legacy of a bygone era.

From the shadows, footsteps echoed lightly. A tall man in a gray robe emerged — Hàn Nhược Phong, the last disciple of the Nam Hải School, long thought dead.

"So you survived that massacre?" Quang Minh opened his eyes, gaze steady.

"Barely. Unlike you, I don't have the favor of old monsters," Hàn Nhược Phong smirked.

"What do you want?"

"To finish what should've ended five years ago. You took her away from me."

"She left on her own," Quang Minh said flatly.

The tension thickened. Hàn Nhược Phong drew his sword — Nguyệt Ảnh, a curved blade forged in moonlight and soaked in blood.

Chiêu 1: Nguyệt Chi Ảnh Sát (Moon Shadow Execution)

As quick as a blink, his form vanished into mist. The blade slashed from a diagonal angle, catching the reflection of the moon in the morning dew — a technique famed for striking from illusion.

Quang Minh stepped back, eyes narrowing. He invoked Lưu Quang Hồi Ảnh, a defensive footwork tracing afterimages. His palms flowed into Liễm Phong Tâm Ấn, forming a sealing motion to parry.

Clang!

A sound sharper than metal echoed, and sparks flew. Both men recoiled slightly.

"You've improved," Hàn Nhược Phong muttered.

"Not enough to kill old friends."

Chiêu 2: Tâm Kinh Tuyệt Ảnh (Mind-Cut Reflection)

Hàn Nhược Phong's eyes glinted cold. He pressed two fingers on the back of his sword. The blade flickered, duplicating into multiple shimmering arcs. His internal force was being guided through the Nam Hải Thất Hồn Kiếm Pháp, a forbidden mental-illusion technique.

Quang Minh muttered a mantra under his breath: "Vô Tướng Quy Tâm."

His breath slowed. The world around him became still. With a single pulse of chi, he dispelled the illusions, lunging forward with Thần Hỏa Quyền, each strike like exploding embers.

Their energies clashed — illusion against pure intent.

"You're hesitating again," Hàn Nhược Phong barked. "You always pull your strikes!"

"Because the point isn't to win," Quang Minh replied, voice calm. "It's to understand."

"Understand?! She's dead because of your understanding!"

Hàn Nhược Phong roared, releasing a devastating technique:

Chiêu 5: Nguyệt Tàn Tâm Tẫn (Moonfall, Heart Break)

The blade circled once, drawing blood-red sigils in the air. A final burst of will — deadly, beautiful, all-consuming.

Quang Minh clenched his fists, channeling Tâm Ảnh Hồi Quang, a technique he had only glimpsed in dreams. He didn't block. He walked into the blade's path — hands empty, heart clear.

The moment the blade touched him — it stopped.

The chi around Quang Minh shimmered, dissolving the killing intent into petals of light.

"Why won't you fight back?!"

"Because I know your pain. And pain only grows stronger when it feeds on itself."

Hàn Nhược Phong trembled. The sword slipped from his fingers.

"Is this your path now? Talking people down?"

"No," Quang Minh smiled faintly. "But understanding someone is harder than killing them."

There was silence.

Then, Hàn Nhược Phong fell to his knees, weeping softly.