Fated | Fangs Of Fortune [ZhuYi]

Chapter 22 : Goodbye, Old Man

As the leaves brushed past YiChen's face, their touch unnervingly gentle, almost like a caress, an icy chill ran down his spine. His instincts screamed at him but he shook it off with a sharp exhale. However, when he looked over, he saw Zhu Yan staring at him with a bewildered expression, as though he had lost his mind.

"Zhu Yan!" YiChen roared, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Snap out of it!"

Zhu Yan blinked, his trance breaking in an instant. His eyes flared with anger as he turned outward, his power surging. The controlled humans around them crumpled to the ground like marionettes whose strings had been severed.

Zhu Yan stormed toward YiChen, his expression dark with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but urgent.

YiChen frowned, caught off guard. "What?"

Before he could process what was happening, Zhu Yan raised his hand, fingers moving with a precision that startled YiChen. He swiftly wiped the spot on YiChen's face where the leaves had touched, his touch surprisingly gentle yet fleeting.

"You—" YiChen began, but Zhu Yan didn't stay to explain. He spun on his heel and charged back into the fray, unleashing his power with calculated precision, his umbrella slicing through the mist and deflecting attacks with ease.

YiChen stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. What was that?

His confusion quickly turned to indignation as he noticed one of the controlled humans rushing at him. He ducked under their clumsy swing, His sword, it's now midnight blue aura dimming, he struck with the flat of the blade, sending the attacker sprawling.

His face burned, though whether from anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure.

"Focus" YiChen muttered to himself. He moved with practiced fury, every strike sharper than the last, every motion an outlet for his frustration.

Pei Si Jing was locked in a desperate struggle against her own brother, Pei Si Heng, who fought with savage relentlessness under the demon's control. His eyes, empty of recognition, bore into her as each strike he delivered cut deeper into her heart than her body. She dodged and parried, shouting his name, her voice breaking under the weight of her anguish.

Meanwhile, Zhu Yan pressed forward, weaving through the throng of controlled humans. His umbrella spun and struck with precision, disarming without lethality. YiChen followed close behind, his sword cutting a path through the chaos. Together, they pushed toward the temple's altar, the source of the oppressive energy suffusing the room.

As they neared the altar, the mist thinned, revealing the figure they sought. A hunched old man perched atop the stone dais, frail and withered as though a strong wind might topple him. Yet the wicked smile etched across his gaunt face and the malice glinting in his sunken eyes betrayed his true power.

Zhu Yan stepped forward, his lips curling into a smirk. "Well, well. The mastermind himself. Didn't expect you to look like a stiff breeze could finish you off."

The old man chuckled, his voice rasping like dry leaves. "And you must be the so-called Great Demon Zhu Yan. A shame to see how far the title has fallen. Back in my day—"

"Spare me the history lesson" Zhu Yan waved a dismissive hand. "It's flattering you know me, though. Do they tell bedtime stories to retired demons about me in the Wilderness?"

With a flick of his bony fingers, the demon etched a glowing line of energy into the stone floor. The air shimmered with unspoken power.

"No farther, boy" the demon croaked. "Cross this line and you'll regret it."