Snow fell like ash over the Blackwood Marshes, whispering across the reeds like the ghosts of men long dead. The wind was bitter, but it wasn't the cold that made Li Shen shiver. It was the corpse.
He crouched over the dying man, watching the golden threads of Qi unravel from his wounds, flickering like the last embers of a fire. Blood pooled into the muddy water, diluted and dark, as the man's lips trembled to form a question.
"Why…"
Li Shen said nothing.
The man had been a disciple of the Moonfire Sect, one of the righteous clans that patrolled the outer provinces. His spirit blade now lay beside him, cracked and useless, its once-shining core drained dry by a technique not meant for mortal hands.
Li Shen reached down and pulled off the man's boots—soft leather, oiled with beast fat, lined with silk. A luxury. His own feet were wrapped in bloodstained rags.
"I need these more than you," he muttered.
The corpse gurgled in protest, but Li Shen was already standing, already turning away, already fading into the mist like a shadow swallowed by dusk.
He walked for hours through the wetlands, every step sinking, every breath chilled. The Nine Veins of Oblivion pulsed faintly within him—dark tendrils that coiled around his meridians, feeding off pain and hatred. A forbidden art, born of madness. It did not offer enlightenment. It offered power.
And power was all he had left.
He remembered the smell of burning flesh. The iron stink of blood in the slave pits. The sound of the demonic brand searing into his back.
He remembered the prophecy:
"The boy in the ashes shall rise, only to fall beneath the sword of heaven."
They thought it was about someone else. Some hero.
But Li Shen had no intention of falling.
At the edge of the marsh stood a crooked shrine—its roof caved in, its statue of the Celestial Sage defaced. He stepped inside and lit a tiny flame with his Qi, just enough to ward off the dark things that lingered here.
He sat, cross-legged, and began to cultivate.
The Nine Veins stirred, hungry.
He closed his eyes and welcomed the pain.
Tomorrow, he would kill again.