At night, firelight flared within the abandoned armory, illuminating the calm yet resolute profile of Ge Zhiyao.
The ringing of hammer on metal mingled with the lingering heat of Yao-crystals in the air. Each strike felt like the forging of a steel cable of fate—at once a weapon, and something to rely on.
For Luo Yan, she forged the Flame Vein Chain-Bracer: a Yao-forged arm guard covering the forearm, inscribed on both sides with Fire Yao formation patterns. When activated, it guided Yao power into blazing chains of flame that could be projected at range—for binding, entangling, restraining, or dragging enemies. The length of the chains and the intensity of the flames grew alongside the wielder's Yao power.
For Lin Yaochen, she crafted the Obsidian Shield Yao-Pattern Bracers: a paired bracer weapon. Upon activation, crystalline Yao shields unfolded along both arms, forming instant twin earth-shields for defense and impact blocking. The two shields could also merge into a single heavy bulwark, unleashing a crushing charge attack.
Luo Yan gazed at the fire-veins flowing along his arm, the flame-chain coiling and uncoiling like a living serpent at his fingertips. For the first time, true confidence flickered in his eyes.
Lin Yaochen swung his wrists excitedly. Yao power condensed into shield-forms that slammed into the ground with a thunderous impact, spiderweb cracks radiating outward. He grinned broadly, eyes alight.
"Awesome! I can do this!"
Ge Zhiyao turned to them, her voice low but unwavering.
"Remember—it's not the weapons that are strong. It's you who make them strong."
A gale howled through the collapsed gaps of the armory, stirring dust and the scent of shattered metal. The iron doors were long ruined, the walls scarred by age and scorch marks. Using broken crates and shields, the four formed a crude barricade in the corner, guarding the unconscious Ge Ruifeng.
Mozi stood at the front, beast eyes blazing. Silver-white Yao energy surged from his limbs, his presence heavy as a mountain.
"They're here," he said softly.
Footsteps echoed from the depths of the corridor—ordered, merciless.
Yan Shuo led the charge, gold-armored soldiers fanning out in formation. Gu Ying stood at the rear, cloaked in black, eyes like dead water, a slender silver fan twirling between her fingers. Her voice was cold.
"There's no escape. Hand them over, and I'll make it hurt less."
Lin Yaochen gritted his teeth and stood, twin Yao shields snapping open with a sharp crack. Earthen light rose like a stone wall as he roared,
"If you want to fight, then fight! Who's afraid of you?"
Luo Yan stepped forward. Flames coursed through the chain-bracer as a crimson chain burst from his right arm, slamming into the ground. A fire-serpent reared up, blocking the enemy's advance. He asked quietly, without turning,
"Can you hold on?"
"Yes." Ge Zhiyao knelt beside Ge Ruifeng, her crossbow already drawn. Gold Yao light flickered as the arrow rack rotated automatically—three bolts loaded, killing intent sharp.
Mozi vanished in a blur, tearing into the enemy ranks. His claws struck like thunder, shockwaves scattering the gold-armored soldiers into chaos.
"Lin Yaochen, support the left flank!" he bellowed.
Lin Yaochen angled his shielded barrier and advanced, protecting Ge Zhiyao's firing line. Luo Yan alone held the front, flame-chains lashing, fire roaring as he ripped a breach through the formation.
Gu Ying sighed softly and moved.
She blinked out of sight, reappearing like a ghost at Ge Zhiyao's side. The silver fan slashed outward—
"Zhiyao, look out!" Luo Yan roared.
At the critical instant, Ge Zhiyao twisted sideways and fired. Three bolts screamed forth, forcing Gu Ying to retreat midair.
"So you truly are a Gold Yao bearer," Gu Ying said, surprise flickering in her eyes for the first time.
Before she could land, Mozi was already upon her. A palm strike sent her flying ten meters into the rock wall, stone exploding outward.
"We don't have time to grind them down," Mozi growled. "If we don't break through now, another wave will arrive."
Luo Yan hoisted Ge Ruifeng onto his back. Lin Yaochen and Ge Zhiyao guarded the flanks; Mozi took the rear. They burst through the armory's final ruined passage, enemy shouts and collapsing stone echoing behind them.
On this scorched ground, they were no longer scattered fugitives—but a spark of resistance set aflame.
They staggered out through the last裂裂 of the mine, the ground dropping away beneath their feet as they tumbled into a wide valley mouth. Silence ruled the plains, broken only by the pre-dawn wind, sharp as blades.
Panting hard, Lin Yaochen glanced back.
"Did we shake them?"
Mozi's face darkened, ears twitching. He growled,
"No—we've entered their encirclement."
As his words fell, hundreds of Gold Yao soldiers surged from ridges and valley walls like a tide. Armor clanged in unison, cold light flashing as the four were completely surrounded.
At the front stood a mounted figure in black armor traced with gold. His features were stern, his gaze a drawn sword—
Yao Marquis Tie Ye, in person.
Looking down at them, he showed neither haste nor anger. His voice was icy calm.
"I'll give you three breaths. Hand them over, and I'll grant you intact corpses."
Ge Zhiyao shielded her unconscious father, crossbow raised, arrowhead locked on Tie Ye.
"I don't believe a word you say. What you did to my father back then—don't think you can take him from me again!"
Luo Yan's flame-chains tightened, eyes burning red as his fury neared eruption.
"You… you're the one who destroyed her family?"
Lin Yaochen's twin shields unfolded soundlessly as he stepped in front of Ge Zhiyao and Ge Ruifeng.
"And if those three breaths pass—then what? Try moving now!"
Tie Ye sneered. With a flick of his hand, Shadow Pavilion assassins and elite Gold Yao guards pressed forward, killing intent weaving into a net. Gu Ying emerged from the shadows, her voice soft—and lethal.
"Ge Zhiyao… have you run enough?"
Mozi stepped forward, silver pupils flaring as his aura surged and his beast form began to surface.
"If you want them, you go through me first."
In the next instant—
The wind screamed. The decisive battle began.
With no retreat left, the four faced the crushing advance of the entire Gold Yao army. The odds were hopeless—but none of them took a step back.
Firelight and dust collided as they fought through dozens of exchanges. Luo Yan's flame-chains tore through enemy ranks. Lin Yaochen held the line with twin shields. Ge Zhiyao's cold bolts fell like rain, repelling wave after wave. Mozi rampaged in beast form, ripping open the encirclement again and again.
But the enemy kept coming. Tie Ye's personal guard was disciplined and relentless, their formation sealing tight like an iron barrel.
At last, Luo Yan's strength failed. A heavy blow shattered his flame-chain, slamming him into the mud. Blood streamed down his brow. He tried to rise—only to be pinned, limbs locked down by multiple soldiers.
While covering Ge Zhiyao and Ge Ruifeng's retreat, Lin Yaochen was struck squarely in the chest by Tie Ye's own Yao power. He was blasted back several meters, bracers shattering as he crashed into the rock wall, blood spilling from his mouth.
Mozi, drained to the limit, was grievously wounded by Gu Ying and several assassins. His limbs were bound, spirit power sealed. He collapsed—still trying to shield Ge Zhiyao with his body.
Ge Zhiyao fired her final arrow, tearing away a corner of Gu Ying's mask—only to be seized in the next heartbeat by a blade that moved like a phantom, pressed to her shoulder and throat.
"That's enough," Gu Ying whispered coldly. "You can't escape."
Tie Ye rode forward, eyes merciless as he looked down on the subdued figures.
"So this is the storm you thought you could raise? Ants, all of you."
He raised his hand and issued the order.
"Take them back to the Gold Yao dungeons. Ge Zhiyao and her father to the deepest cells. The other two—into the Yao Refinement Prison. Cripple their Yao power."
Dozens of riders advanced, locking them in specialized Yao restraints, stripping away their weapons. In the firelight, they stood caked in dust, blood, and silent rage.
Yet none of them lowered their gaze.
Because they knew—
this was not the end, but only the eve of the storm.