A Song For The Ages

When the light from the main chamber's spatial transition faded, Feiyin found himself surrounded by a thick, silvery mist, with an obsidian floor underneath.

It wasn't ordinary fog- each swirl pulsed with a rhythm, like a heartbeat. As he took a cautious step forward, the mist pushed against his thoughts. Not his body, but his memories.

The world twisted around him, as suddenly, Feiyin stood in a familiar place- his old courtyard, back in his hometown. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle. His mother was humming by the kitchen, slicing fruit. His father stood tall at the gate, inspecting a training saber in his hands.

Feiyin's breath caught.

It was so real. It felt so real. His hands trembled from the overwhelming flood of memory and longing that came rushing in one go. How long has it been since he last saw them- his mother's gentle smile, his father's warm eyes?

Then the sky darkened. Screams erupted. Fire bloomed like a wound across the wall.

"Feiyin!"

He turned- his mother's eyes wide with despair. The flames consumed everything.

He stepped back, his saber instinctively drawn.

No. Not again.

Then Hui's laughter rang in his ears. "You're late again, Feiyin-"

It cut short.

Feiyin's head snapped toward the sound, only to witness Hui fall backward into the dirt. Her limbs were bruised, her face pale and twisted. Her robes, once neat and colorful, were torn and dirtied, and cuts traced her neck and arms like cruel ink stains. Her eyes were wide open, staring past him, unblinking.

For a heartbeat, he couldn't breathe.

He staggered forward a step, eyes stinging, saber trembling in his hand. Hui's form collapsed, vanishing into flickering mist.

How many nights had he dreamed of saving her?

Feiyin's hand trembled.

But then, he took a deep breath, as he knew the start, from the oscillations that he could sense, that nothing was happening around him, that this was merely from his mind. He recalled his father's words.

"Regret is not to be a burden, but a whetstone. Let it sharpen your resolve, not bury you."

His saber flashed, his intent coating it with purpose.

He cut through the burning image. Through the illusions. Through the regrets.

The mist recoiled.

And Feiyin emerged on the other side, breathless, eyes sharp. He stood once more on a the obsidian floor, the world around him quiet.

And across from him, at some distance, he saw Feng Liu.

The mist surrounding him was dense, even more than his.

Feiyin stayed still, watching.

Feng Liu stood within a collapsing alley of memory- weathered stone paths glistening with ocean mist, discarded fishing nets hung from wooden posts, gulls screeching overhead. It was a coastal city, once vibrant with trade, now dim with poverty. A younger version of himself, no older than fourteen, was dragged screaming from the back of a seaside shanty by cultivators in sect robes. His small hands clawed at the ground, his voice lost in the roar of the waves crashing against the cliffs nearby.

Thrown into a menial disciple camp, he spent two years enduring beatings for weakness and mockery for his silence. Day after day, he scrubbed blood from stone floors, hauled buckets of waste, and bowed his head to cruelty. No name, no worth, just another tool in the sect's hierarchy- until someone noticed the unnatural power of yang in his body.

Then, a woman- elegant, cruel, and older- smiling down at him.

"What a rare body. Come with me."

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Feng Liu's eyes filled with silent horror as his younger self was led away.

The next scene unfolded with suffocating clarity. In a dimly lit chamber lined with scented candles, a young Feng Liu lay bound by spiritual ropes, his limbs trembling, his eyes hollow with exhaustion. Above him, the same older female disciple loomed- her smile painted with cruelty, as she moved up and down, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

Again and again, she drained him- not just of his yang energy, but of his will, his dignity, his belief. His cries were muffled by spiritual seals in the bedroom, as his body was reduced to a trembling shell.

As the cycle repeated- restoration pills forced into his mouth only so he could be used again- Feiyin's breath grew tight. He gritted his teeth, eyes locked on the horrific loop reflected in the mist.

The young Feng Liu changed. His gaze dulled, then hardened. Rage curled through him like smoke, suffocating the last remnants of innocence. In one blood-soaked night, he broke free- his hands clutching a shard of broken glass, his movements silent, merciless.

Feiyin flinched- not from fear, but from a sorrow that gnawed at the edges of his heart and hollowed his breath. The illusion before him was horrific, revolting, and yet inescapably real. He wanted to turn away. To cut through it, erase it, pretend it never existed. But he didn't. Because even monsters had to come from somewhere.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched. This was the truth behind the creature he loathed- the truth that the sect allowed to fester, to twist, to rot beneath its doctrine. Feng Liu wasn't just a tormentor; he was a product, a reflection of a system that sought to devour everything.

Feiyin's gaze didn't soften, but it shifted- no longer only filled with hatred, but with understanding. This wasn't forgiveness, nor was it sympathy. It was clarity.

This sect did not deserve to survive. He would see to it that it burns, but before that, he still has a promise to fulfill, a promise carved in blood.

Feng Liu stood tall again, but something within him had shifted. His breath steadied, his back straightened, and the trembling in his hands ceased. His expression didn't soften- it sharpened.

Slowly, methodically, he reached into his robes.

His fingers wrapped around something with reverence. A box, no larger than a palm, lacquered in black and bound with a silver clasp. He opened it.

Inside were two preserved eyes, perfectly kept within a crystal-lined velvet interior. Icy blue, haunting and bright even without life.

Feng Liu stared into them as if nothing else in the world existed. And then, a slow, cracked smile of vindication spread across his face that twisted into madness.

"You can't hurt me anymore, I killed you already," he whispered, voice low and ragged.

The mist surrounding him recoiled like a living thing stung by venom. It hissed and scattered into strands, retreating into the depths of the empty chamber.

Two figures now stood facing each other- Feiyin was still composed, though shadowed by everything he had just seen. He didn't speak, but his silence held weight.

Feng Liu tilted his head slightly, watching him with keen eyes. Then he broke the silence with a sharp grin. "You saw that, didn't you?"

Feiyin simply nodded.

Feng Liu chuckled, then threw his head back and wildly laughed. The sound rang across the chamber, tinged with madness.

"This world is such a crazy place... I just wanted to live, yet I was dragged from my home, stripped of choice, and taken against my will. But while that bitch took pleasure in tormenting me, you know what I learned?" His eyes widened as he leaned forward, voice rising with each word. "She was right! She was stronger than me, so she could do whatever she wanted. And I? I realized that if I wanted to do as I pleased, I just had to become stronger than her."

He spread his arms, almost like preaching. "And I did! I took her out by surprise! Gods, the pleasure I felt when I saw the dread in her eyes- that moment when she knew she had no power left... oh, Feiyin, that was the first time I felt truly alive!"

He laughed again, breathless, almost panting. "That was the gift of strength! And I chased it ever since. No matter what it took. No matter who I had to use. I was already in the Joyful Union branch, so I stuck to what I knew. And it turns out- I really enjoyed applying what I learned. Taking what I want. By force."

His eyes gleamed, mouth twitching, his voice cracking with near-ecstatic madness. "Isn't that right?!"

Feiyin's face remained blank, but his gaze held a deep, stormy quiet. "I do agree with you. The strong can do as they want."

Feng Liu blinked.

Feiyin's voice turned cold. "Which is why I don't despise you for trying to survive. But I will never forgive what you did to my friend."

Feng Liu's smile faltered. His body tensed slightly, but then he let out a soft chuckle- one that quickly turned into a wild, deranged laugh. His eyes gleamed, filled with unhinged light, and his lips curled into a crooked smile that bared too many teeth.

"Ah, you wouldn't be the first," he murmured, and then with a flick of his wrist, water essence qi swirled around him like serpents, coalescing into shimmering mist.

"But the weak have no choice but to accept their fate!" he spat, voice rising as the mist thickened. Waves of illusory fog crashed through the chamber, masking vision and spreading whispers in every direction.

A dozen sharp bullets of compressed water shot through the haze, screaming toward Feiyin.

But Feiyin was already moving. His body shifted with practiced fluidity, steps light and flowing. The water bullets cracked into the obsidian ground behind him, leaving several craters where he'd stood moments before.

Even while dodging, his senses extended outward, oscillation spread like fine threads. He searched the surrounding space- not just for Feng Liu's next attack, but for the edges of the trial. For watchers. For witnesses.

There were none.

Good.

His expression didn't change, but his eyes hardened. This was a fight only one of them would walk away from, and he had a promise carved in blood to keep.