The night forest was dense and oppressive. Ancient trees rose like pillars of a forgotten temple, their branches interlaced into a vault that strangled the moonlight. The air, damp and heavy, carried the metallic scent of wet earth mixed with the mold of decomposing leaves.
Leaning against the rugged trunk of a twisted tree, a grey-haired old man struggled for air. His body was a map of pain, covered in shallow cuts and bloodstains that were already beginning to stiffen his tattered clothes. One hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to contain the throbbing of the deepest wound, which pulsed to the frantic rhythm of his heart.
"Damn it..." he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and wet.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to tame his breathing. Every inhalation felt as if invisible blades were tearing through his lungs. They are still after me...
His weary gaze swept the gloom. Between the silhouettes of the trees, the world seemed still.
Too quiet.
A cold shiver ran down his spine, his survival instinct screaming in the silence.
"It seems my time has come," he thought, forcing his body to move deeper into the brush, dragging a crimson trail behind him. "This is a good place to die."
Like spectres conjured by the darkness itself, hooded figures and elite mercenaries emerged from nowhere. In the center of the circle, walking with a predatory calm that silenced even the insects, was Yè Zhǎn.
He represented the apex of the Ye Family, the lineage of executioners who had shaped China's history since the Era of the Three Kingdoms. His white hair contrasted violently with eyes that looked like abysses, and his mere presence was a death sentence.
"Grandmaster Xuān," Yè Zhǎn's voice was polished, yet cold as the edge of a guillotine. "You are a wall that refuses to crumble. One hundred and sixty of our best men now adorn this hillside as sacrifices to your legend. Why prolong the inevitable? Hand over the secret. Death can be a gentle sleep or an eternity of torment. The choice, as always, is yours."
Xuān Zhao let out a raspy laugh, spitting a clot of blood that stained the soil. His eyes, though clouded by pain, sparked like live embers, emanating a power that made the lower-ranking assassins take a step back.
"Brat of the Ye Family... I hold no grudge for your attempt to kill me, for it is your trade. However, if you think I will allow your employers, the Nine Abysses, to touch the secret, you understand nothing of the weight of this burden," the old man hissed, straightening his back with a dry crack of bones. "For generations, my ancestors were persecuted and hunted by those who covet the power of the legend of the Heavenly Treasure."
"The Heavenly Treasure..." Xuan Zhao intoned, his voice gaining a mystical cadence. "A treasure left by the Jade Emperor when he was still mortal. He collected an unparalleled amount of knowledge, power, and wealth, leaving his most loyal servants as guardians as he ascended to the heavens."
"And for generations, men searched and plunged all of China into conflict for such a treasure, killing the protectors until only one remained," Ye Zhan completed.
"Yes, I am the last dragon. But, just as those of the past failed, you have failed as well," the master challenged.
"That remains to be seen... I have never failed once," Yè Zhan retorted.
"There is always a first time for everything, kid."
Xuan Zhao roared internally, releasing his energy. A vibrant golden aura exploded around him, illuminating the forest.
"Golden?" a mercenary stammered. "Is it possible? Is that...!?"
"Fóguāng," Ye Zhan interrupted, his voice heavy with a rare astonishment as a drop of sweat rolled down his temple. "Also known as the Aura or Light of a Buddha."
"Exactly! The apex of spiritual energy refinement is the Ultimate Supreme Aura!" Xuan Zhao declared.
My body is at its limit, but it doesn't matter. I'm taking everyone to the grave with me!
"Fascinating!" exclaimed Ye Zhan, regaining his composure. "Most people possess a blue Qi aura, but they can be modified by embracing paths derived from Yin and Yang."
"You did your homework, little tiger," the old man praised.
"It doesn't matter! He's just a wounded tiger!" shouted one of the mercenaries, losing patience. "Let's finish him with our numbers!"
Five mercenaries lunged simultaneously at Xuan Zhao.
"Fools," Ye Zhan murmured, closing his eyes.
Xuan Zhao simply blinked. Upon opening his eyes, he released a shockwave of pure power. The impact was so devastating that the five attackers were hurled back, crashing headfirst against the ground before that thunderous force.
"I admit it, Xuan Zhao, you are a true monster," Ye Zhan said. "If you weren't one of the guardian dragons, you would certainly have been a renowned master on the level of the Seven Venerables."
"Hohoho! You are a true bastard, my boy. It's a pity you follow these paths. With your intelligence and respect, I would have loved to have you as a pupil."
"A pity indeed. In another life, I would have loved to have you as a master. However, I am a man of my word. A target is a target, even if it pains me to see such a capable man erased in this forest."
"As they say... the brightest stars always go out before they can be noticed," reflected Xuan Zhao.
"But those who saw them witnessed an unforgettable glow that will remain eternally in memory."
"Well said," Ye Zhan nodded.
Immediately, Ye Zhan went on the offensive. His fist shot toward Xuan Zhao's chest, who intercepted the blow with his palm, supporting his arm with his other hand to withstand the catastrophic impact.
"You are immensely powerful, but not even the strongest can defeat an exorbitant number of opponents indefinitely," Ye Zhan stated, pressing forward.
"You're right. A single ant cannot defeat a man, but a legion of them can do indescribable things!" Xuan Zhao smiled. "It seems you will be the ant that brings me down, won't you?"
"I don't consider that a compliment. I feel only disappointment for resorting to such lowly acts," the executioner replied.
"An assassin with a code of honor?" the old man questioned, his smile stained by the blood trickling from his mouth due to internal hemorrhaging.
"The Ye Family prides itself on its strength. We are capable of obliterating any target without dirty tricks."
"Indeed. But in this world, the only thing that matters are results."
The two retreated, studying each other. Ye Zhan broke the stalemate with a swift gesture, sending a current of air that fragmented into countless wind blades. Xuan Zhao dodged, but a sharp pang of pain made him falter.
It was the opening needed. Ye Zhan came down with a descending kick, creating a crater in the ground.
"He got him!" a mercenary shouted.
"Idiot, wait and see before claiming victory!" another snapped back.
When the dust settled, Xuan Zhao was still there, having blocked the blow with his arm—now severely mangled. Ye Zhan stepped back with a genuine smile of excitement.
"It seems this is the end of the game," the white-haired youth declared.
Xuan Zhao simply scratched his stubble and closed his eyes. When he opened them, his gaze was predatory and indomable.
"Is it really, my boy? You underestimate this poor dying elder."
"What!?" Ye Zhan suddenly faltered, falling to his knees and spitting blood.
He hit me!? How and when!? Could it be he struck me at the moment of the block? What a monster!
"Attack him now!" he ordered aloud, while thinking desperately. I need time and an opening.
The mercenaries leaped. With a single swing of his fist, Xuan Zhao killed five. He advanced like a force of nature, striking down each opponent at an alarming pace. The survivors, seized by terror, united their forces into a single, massive energy attack.
Xuan Zhao tried to deflect it, but his body betrayed him again. He was forced to catch the mass of energy with his bare hands, being dragged backward.
"Curse you! Bastards!" he roared. He gathered the rest of his essence, compressing the enemy attack until it exploded between his hands.
"Impossible!" Ye Zhan exclaimed.
"He's not human!"
Xuan Zhao's arms, now lifeless and trembling, fell to his sides. He had lost all movement.
Damn it, the old man thought.
"Now! Attack with everything!" Ye Zhan commanded, leaping in with the others.
One hour later.
Xuan Zhao was leaning against the tree again, on the threshold between life and death. Around him was a scene of carnage where every mercenary lay dead. Only Ye Zhan remained, sitting on the ground, broken and covered in wounds, laughing at his own misfortune.
"Old monster..." Ye Zhan gasped.
"The ants won in the end," Xuan Zhao said with difficulty. "It's a pity you won't be able to torture me for the secret, hoho..."
"You really are an anomaly. But apparently, the Nine Abysses have a means to extract the secret from your corpse," Ye Zhan revealed.
"Really!? Thanks for the info. Better leave then."
"What?"
"I will detonate my body so that nothing remains. Go, unless you want to come with me," Xuan Zhao warned. "But first, I need you to do me a favor..."
Five minutes later, a colossal explosion lit up the forest. Ye Zhan, far enough away, picked up the phone and called his employer.
"Lord Yanluo? Xuan Zhao is dead. The secret went with him; nothing is left."
Yanluo, who was in a luxurious casino, sighed. He took a sip of whiskey and replied calmly.
"It's not the end yet. The last dragon left a remnant... an adopted grandson."
"What are you going to do with the kid?" Ye Zhan asked, a trace of apprehension in his voice.
"Nothing. I will wait for the Association to make its move. For now, I will only watch. If that boy truly has the secret... he will be mine, no matter what happens."
Ye Zhan hung up and stared at the horizon under the starry sky, where the glow of a star seemed to have just flickered out.