Fated | Fangs Of Fortune [ZhuYi]

Chapter 21 : An Old Friend

The grand door groaned shut behind them with a resounding boom, sealing the trio in the vast chamber. The oppressive mist thickened immediately, curling around their feet like a living thing.

Zhu Yan froze, his sharp eyes narrowing as an all-too-familiar energy brushed against him. His body tensed, a rare seriousness replacing his usual playful demeanor.

"Zhu Yan?" YiChen's voice broke the silence, low and cautious. "What is it?"

"Nothing" Zhu Yan replied too quickly, his jaw tightening.

YiChen didn't buy it. "You're lying."

Without answering, Zhu Yan took the lead, moving forward purposefully. The dense fog swallowed them as they pressed on, staying close together. Faint whispers and the soft shuffle of unseen movement kept them on edge.

Suddenly, a shadow darted behind them. They spun around, weapons raised, but there was nothing.

"Zhu Yan" YiChen said through gritted teeth, his eyes scanning the mist. "Can't you do something about this fog?"

Zhu Yan lifted a hand to his lips, fingers moving in a delicate gesture. He whispered a single word, his voice low and commanding.

"Disperse."

The mist recoiled, parting like a tide, though only slightly. They could see a few paces further, but not much more.

"That's it?" YiChen and Pei Si Jing shot Zhu Yan identical looks of disbelief.

Zhu Yan shrugged, his tone dry. "Ancient. I told you, remember? This stuff doesn't budge easily."

The faint reprieve revealed shadowy figures ahead, standing unnaturally still. As they stepped closer, they saw the people clearly—trapped in a liminal state. Their movements were stiff and unnatural, their expressions void of emotion.

"They're victims" Pei Si Jing whispered, horrified.

The figures turned toward them, blank eyes snapping with violent intent. A throng of them rushed forward without warning.

Zhu Yan readied his umbrella, Pei Si Jing nocked an arrow to her bow, and YiChen pointed his sword toward them. They met the onslaught head-on, the room erupting into chaos.

"Don't kill them!" YiChen called out as he deflected a strike from a frenzied man. "They could still be alive, controlled by the demon!"

"It'd be easier if we could!" Pei Si Jing grunted, shoving a woman back with the hilt of her bow.

YiChen glanced around the room, his brows furrowed. "Wasn't the victim count supposed to be eleven? How are there more than sixty of them?"

Pei Si Jing ducked under a swinging arm, drew a dagger from her waist and slashed at a leg to bring another attacker down. "The Chongwu Camp already knew the number exceeded a hundred!"

"A hundred?!" Zhu Yan exclaimed as he parried a blow.

Their strikes incapacitated attackers but for every one they knocked down, two more seemed to take their place. The air grew heavier with their desperate attempts to fight without lethal force.

Suddenly, the attackers froze mid-motion, standing eerily still.

"What now?" Pei Si Jing whispered, her voice taut.

A low, rasping chuckle echoed through the chamber, freezing them in their tracks. The mist coiled unnaturally, drawing toward the center of the room where a figure emerged from the shadows.

"A-Heng!" Pei Si Jing's voice cracked with desperation as she bolted toward him.

"No!" Zhu Yan stopped her, his hand shooting out to block her path.

"It's been a while" the figure said, his voice deep and dripping with mockery.

Zhu Yan stiffened, his entire body rigid. "LiLun" he whispered, his voice sharp and cold.

The laugh that came from Pei Si Heng's mouth was rich and mocking. "Impressive, old friend. It didn't take you long to recognize me."

Pei Si Heng's eyes glowed with an amber-green light and as if in response, Zhu Yan's and YiChen's eyes flickered with the same glow.

When the light faded, Pei Si Heng was gone. In his place stood a figure cloaked in black, with a wicked smile that dripped with malice. His sharp jawline and intense, piercing eyes sent an unsettling chill through the temple. His pitch-black eyes locked onto Zhu Yan with hatred—hatred that mirrored YiChen's.

YiChen's heart lurched. A memory clawed at the back of his mind. "You..." he began, his voice low, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

"Zhuo YiChen" the figure said smoothly, his piercing gaze unwavering. "Finally, we meet face to face. I'll introduce myself properly next time."

"You're alive" Zhu Yan said, his voice carrying an unfamiliar weight of emotion.

"How disappointing, right?" LiLun sneered, stepping closer.

YiChen frowned, trying to piece it together. "I've seen you before..."

Zhu Yan cut in, his voice clipped. "He was an old friend. You've met."

"No" YiChen said, shaking his head, his tone resolute. "Not from that time."

LiLun turned back to Zhu Yan, his voice laced with venom. "You've fallen so far, haven't you? Pretending to be one of them, carrying guilt that isn't even yours."

"Shut up" Zhu Yan snapped, his voice sharper than usual.

"Hit a nerve?" LiLun laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally. "You're still the same, Zhu Yan. Always trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. But look where it's gotten you—hated, hunted, alone."

"I said, shut up!" Zhu Yan's roar cut through the chamber, his aura flaring. The cursed villagers recoiled slightly, their whispers silenced for a moment.

"Temper, temper" LiLun teased, though his grin faltered briefly. "But don't worry. I'm not here for a fight—yet. I just wanted to say hello."

Pei Si Jing, trembling with confusion and anger, stepped forward. "What are you talking about? That's my brother!"

Zhu Yan turned to her, his expression grim. "It's not your brother, Ms. Pei. A demon has taken control of him."

Pei Si Jing's jaw clenched, her bow shaking in her grip. "If my brother gets hurt at all, I'll hold you responsible, demon. Understand?"

Before Zhu Yan could respond, the controlled humans surged forward again, their movements more violent than before.

"They're moving!" YiChen shouted, forcing himself to focus.

He and Pei Si Jing were pulled into the fray, their weapons flashing. Zhu Yan and LiLun remained where they were, locked in a tense, silent standoff.

LiLun's figure began to blur, the edges of his form dissolving into a flurry of dark leaves. They swirled unnaturally, sweeping past YiChen as they drifted out of the temple, grazing his face with a touch as soft as a phantom breeze. Zhu Yan froze in his tracks, his eyes widening in alarm, as a disturbing realization struck him like a blow.

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