Later that night, the mist outside Tian's guest room thickened, curling against the window like silent breath. Inside, Tian sat cross-legged on the meditation mat, eyes closed, breath steady. The spirit lamp flickered beside him, casting soft shadows across the runes etched into the walls. The energy in the room pulsed gently, like a heartbeat—calming, rhythmic, deceptive.
He was deep in meditation, trying to silence the storm of thoughts that had plagued him since arriving. But peace was a fragile thing.
There was a sudden shift in the air. A flicker of killing intent.
Before Tian could react, a masked figure lunged from the shadows, dagger gleaming with lightning qi. The blade sliced through the air, aimed straight for his throat. Time slowed. Tian's eyes snapped open, and for a moment, he saw his life flash before him—his family, the Hewitt clan, the endless nights of survival.
There was nothing he could do.
But before the dagger could land, a violent gust tore through the room.
The attacker froze mid-strike—then was cleaved in half by a spiraling wind slash. Blood sprayed across the runes, sizzling as it met the spiritual energy. The corpse hit the floor with a dull thud, limbs twitching, eyes wide in death.
Tian stumbled back, heart racing, breath ragged.
From the mist, a figure stepped forward—silent, precise, deadly.
Jalen.
He moved like a ghost, his cloak barely stirring, his eyes sharp and unreadable.
"Jalen," Tian breathed, still shaken.
Jalen didn't respond. He just activated Flash Reversion. The room twisted, light bent—and they vanished.
They reappeared in Weylan's quarters. The air was still, the courtyard beyond cloaked in silver mist. Weylan was seated near his window, sipping tea, his expression distant.
Before he could react, Jalen grabbed him by the collar and vanished again.
They landed in the forest clearing from earlier that day. The Tel Mistveil Forest. The trees swayed gently, moonlight filtering through the leaves. The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of branches.
Weylan staggered back, eyes blazing. "What is this? You tricked me! Lied to me!"
He began gathering qi, his aura flaring with wind and spatial energy. But before he could strike, Jalen released his aura.
It was overwhelming.
A wave of pressure slammed into Weylan, forcing him to his knees. His qi scattered, his breath caught in his throat.
He turned to the young man beside Tian. Jalen's face was unfamiliar—but the aura was undeniable. Sage Realm.
Even Tian was stunned. The last time he saw Jalen, he was just a moon realm cultivator, and now, in just a few years, he was at a realm that was said to take at least ten centuries or more.
"Senior…" Weylan began to bow.
Jalen stopped him with a sharp glance. "Who are you calling senior? We're from the same family. And I'm only a year older than you."
Weylan stared, stunned. A Sage Realm cultivator at twenty-one? That's unheard of. Then again, he himself was twenty and already at the Spirit Fusion Realm. But that wasn't due to talent—it was luck. A treasure he'd stumbled upon had accelerated his growth.
"Don't try to remember," Jalen said. "You won't. Instead, you'll just suffer more headaches."
"What do you mean?" Weylan stuttered, trying to figure out how Jalen knows about his migraine.
"That woman—Shae. The tea she gives you when your headaches flare up… it's laced with a potent spirit herb called the daze herb that suppresses memories. The user can choose which memories to dull, making it perfect for manipulation. It'll take years to flush out. Well, if you stop drinking it. Until then, your past is locked."
"You're lying," Weylan snapped. "Master Shae has always looked after me. She's helped me grow stronger. She's tried to restore my memories."
"I know this is difficult for you to accept," Jalen voiced calmly. "Especially since you're sleeping with her."
Weylan's face darkened. "We're not," he said, voice low. That was supposed to be a secret. If the sect found out, it could ruin Shae's reputation. She was of noble lineage. He wasn't.
"I don't care about your affairs," Jalen said. "But I suspect she's after your second spatial qi spirit core. I assumed it had chosen you as its wielder, seeing that it had suppressed itself—so its Sky Limit Realm qi doesn't tear you apart. It's also the reason you were able to achieve the realm you are at today."
Weylan's eyes widened. "How do you know about that?" No one, not even the patriarch and elders of the twilight sect, knows about his second core apart from Master Shae, so how did this man find out about it?
Jalen didn't answer directly. The Origin Shard had sensed it. Desired it. But Jalen, now stronger, could resist its pull. Or rather, the shard was waiting for the perfect moment—like it had with Jael and the flaming dragon beast core a few years ago.
Even if the shard wanted this spirit core, it wouldn't be easy to retrieve it, especially if its host was unwilling.
"Look, kid," Jalen said. "If you return to that sect, it won't end well. You will die."
"Why should I trust you?" Weylan asked. "What if you're after my spirit core too?"
"Surely you're not that naïve."
Weylan hesitated. If Jalen wanted the core, he wouldn't need to explain anything. He could just take it. Even Weylan knew that. But caution was second nature now. And with a Sage Realm expert standing before him—one who could teleport even with spatial qi—he knew escape wasn't an option.
Tian stepped forward. "I know how this looks to you, that you are confused. But Jalen and I are really your cousins. We are looking out for your well-being. You need to come with us, Weylan. Back to the Hewitt family. Don't you want to meet with your parents and your siblings?"
Weylan looked at him, eyes conflicted.
The offer was tempting. He wanted to know his past. To understand who he was. To meet his family. But the bond he'd formed with Shae… with the Twilight Sect… ran deep. Accepting Tian's proposal meant accepting Jalen's claim—that Master Shae had been using him all along. That she was the reason for his amnesia. That everything she'd done for him—every lesson, every gesture of care—had been for one purpose: his second spirit core.
"I… I don't know," he said quietly.
Tian was about to press, but Jalen stopped him. "Then go back."
"What?" Tian said, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Why are you sending him to his death?" He didn't share a strong bond with Weylan—back in the clan, they were rivals more than kin—but blood was still blood.
"Go," Jalen repeated, ignoring Tian.
Weylan looked at him oddly, expecting a trap. But Jalen didn't move. He didn't stop him. Slowly, cautiously, Weylan backed away—then vanished in a shimmer of spatial qi.
Tian turned to Jalen, frustration bubbling. "Why did you let him go?"
"Don't worry. I'll bring him back when he's ready," Jalen answered.
Tian frowned. "And if he never comes around?"
Jalen's gaze hardened. "Then he dies. And the Twilight Sect will pay—blood for blood, in full." It was the least he could do for a fellow family member, though they weren't close. Jalen doubted Weylan even knew of his existence. Back then, Jalen was a servant. Weylan was one of the family's geniuses. They were two worlds apart.
His words made Tian tremble.
"Let's go somewhere safe to put up for the night." Jalen said, and then, without a response from Tian, he teleported off with him.