The wind howled like a beast unchained.
Feng Lihan stood at the cliff's edge, crimson wings spread wide, every feather trembling with restrained violence. His gaze never left Zhao Kuan.
"You killed him," he said again—quiet, flat, terrifyingly calm.
Zhao Kuan laughed.
Not nervous. Not forced.
Genuinely amused.
"He was weak," Zhao Kuan replied lazily. "If he couldn't stand his ground, then falling was inevitable."
That was it.
Feng Lihan moved.
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he lunged forward, fist coated in raging crimson aura. Zhao Kuan barely had time to raise his arms before the impact sent him flying backward, smashing into a stone pillar with a sickening boom.
Blood sprayed.
Zhao Kuan coughed violently, ribs screaming—but he was still smiling.
"You're too late," he wheezed. "No one survives that fall."
Feng Lihan didn't answer.
He attacked again.
A storm of blows—fast, merciless, meant to kill. His wings sliced through the air like blades, shockwaves tearing through the clearing. Zhao Kuan was forced to retreat again and again, bones cracking under the sheer fury unleashed upon him.
But then—
"STOP!"
A roar echoed through the mountains.
Clan members poured into the clearing—warriors from every direction, wings beating, weapons drawn. They froze at the sight: Feng Lihan, eyes glowing red, standing over a bloodied Zhao Kuan like a god of slaughter.
"Four-Star Warrior Feng Lihan!" one elder shouted. "Stand down!"
Feng Lihan didn't turn.
"He murdered Lin Yue," Feng Lihan said. "Move—or die with him."
The words sent chills through the crowd.
Zhao Kuan staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. He laughed again, louder this time.
"You hear that?" he mocked. "He's lost his mind over a nobody."
Feng Lihan's aura flared violently.
Several clan members were forced back, barely holding their ground.
Then—
A soft voice cut through the chaos.
"Enough."
Layla stepped forward.
She was smiling.
Not nervous. Not grieving.
Satisfied.
Zhao Kuan glanced at her—and his smile widened. "Ah. You came."
Layla's gaze flicked briefly toward the cliff, then back to Feng Lihan. "It's over," she said lightly. "Lin Yue is dead. The mountain has already claimed him."
Her lips curved higher.
"And honestly? That's for the best."
Something deep inside Feng Lihan broke.
The world narrowed to red.
"You're happy," he said hoarsely.
Layla didn't deny it. "He was an obstacle. A stain on the clan. Now he's gone."
Zhao Kuan laughed openly, spreading his arms despite his injuries. "See? Even Layla agrees. You should thank me."
The clan members exchanged uneasy glances.
This had gone too far.
Feng Lihan's wings snapped outward, aura exploding like a blood-red sun. The mountain shook, stones rolling from the cliffside.
"I will kill you," he said, voice shaking with absolute certainty. "Even if the entire clan stands in my way."
Several warriors rushed forward, forming a barrier between him and Zhao Kuan.
"Chief's orders!" an elder shouted. "Restrain Feng Lihan!"
Hands grabbed at his arms. Chains flashed.
Feng Lihan struggled—but for the first time, his strength faltered.
Because beneath the cliff—
Far, far beneath the broken branches and jagged stone—
Lin Yue fell through darkness.
Pain tore through his body. Bones screamed. Blood filled his mouth.
So this is it…
His consciousness flickered, slipping like sand through his fingers.
I really didn't want to die again…
Then—
A shadow moved beneath him.
Strong arms wrapped around his body midair.
The fall stopped abruptly.
They crashed hard—but not fatally.
Lin Yue coughed,
A low voice cursed under its breath.
"Damn it… you're lighter than I expected."
Lin Yue's vision blurred.
He barely saw the face above him—sharp eyes, unfamiliar featured
"Stay awake," the stranger ordered. "You're not allowed to die yet."
Lin Yue tried to speak.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Above the cliff—
Feng Lihan roared in fury as he was restrained, eyes burning with madness.
"You think he's dead?" he shouted at Zhao Kuan and Layla. "You'd better pray he is."
Because if Lin Yue lived—
This mountain would drown in blood.