Chapter Text
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“Do you trust me, Yingxing?” Dan Feng’s eyes were complicated as the candlelight illuminated his stern features, dancing over his tall, graceful figure. The way his shoulders were drawn up slightly, his brows just barely furrowed, as his lips drew into a firm line– Few would have been able to tell, but he was anxious.
Yingxing’s expression softened, his hand pausing over the sword in his lap.
“Yes. I trust you with my life. You know that, don’t you, Dan Feng?” He wanted with all his heart for Dan Feng to know that fact. To know that Yingxing would gladly die for him, sacrifice his own weak mortal shell for the goals of the Vidyadhara High Elder.
That was part of the reason that he was here now, polishing his blade, preparing to betray everyone else, to betray the principles of life itself in support of Dan Feng and the horrifically sacrilegious idea he’d had.
The other reason was that Baiheng had truly been taken too early. She was never meant to leave the world this soon, certainly not before Yingxing, whose body, unblessed by Yaoshi, should have crumbled to dust long before she ever met her end. She was the moral backbone of the High-Cloud Quintet, the cheer that brought them to celebrate their small victories and even smaller similarities.
Slowly, Yingxing set the sword aside, standing up to face Dan Feng questioningly.
“If you truly trust me, I need you to listen very closely,” Dan Feng said, drawing near with narrowed eyes reflecting the gentle candlelight. His elegant hands folded behind his back as he held Yingxing’s confused gaze.
“Then speak,” Yingxing breathed, silently reminding himself that he didn’t have time right now to be caught up in the languid slope of Dan Feng’s pale neck, or in the shadows cast by his long eyelashes.
“You have to go back to the battlefield– We need the flesh of Yaoshi’s Emanator. And for all that Baiheng’s sacrifice accomplished in that battle today…” Dan Feng paused, eyes glistening briefly before his lips drew into a thin, determined line. “For all that, there is a chance Shuhu survived. The Abundance is rather hard to kill, after all.” Yingxing lifted his chin slightly indignantly.
“I know that very well. I’m more than prepared to strike him down.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Yingxing.” Dan Feng’s lower lip moved, almost into a pout. If the situation were any less dire, Yingxing might have kissed him, gently thumbing away the crease between his brows. Instead he just took a slow, deep breath, silently letting Dan Feng continue.
“Once you have the chance– For I have every confidence you will succeed in incapacitating him long enough–” Something flickered in his jade eyes. Fear, perhaps. Uncertainty, despite his words. “You must carve out his heart. And consume it.”
Yingxing blinked in horrified surprise. He swallowed heavily, Dan Feng’s words sinking in.
“Consume it…? You want me to…”
“Yes. You have to.” Dan Feng’s hands unclasped, one of them darting forward to grasp Yingxing’s forearm, the bracer strapped against his wrist. His expression grew almost pleading, something no one would ever have expected to see on the face of the revered High Elder. “You must promise me, Yingxing. It is crucial.”
“But… why?” Yingxing’s lips drew back in slight disgust at the notion.
“I… cannot tell you the details. Only that it is extremely important to our plan. You have to eat his heart. You trust me, don’t you?” Dan Feng’s other hand found Yingxing’s other arm and the distance between them grew ever lesser.
“...With my very soul,” Yingxing replied softly. “But you really can’t tell me anything?”
Dan Feng’s expression grew complicated, his eyes falling. “It… is necessary for Baiheng’s revival. Absolutely and irrefutably.”
Yingxing let out a small sigh, slowly stepping back, away from Dan Feng. “I understand. But… What if I don’t encounter Shuhu?”
“You will.” Dan Feng said it with such certainty that Yingxing momentarily wondered if his Vidyadhara lineage was starting to make him a prophet. “Even if Baiheng didn’t kill him as I fear she didn’t, he won’t have been able to move far from the battlefield in one night. It will take too long for his body to regenerate for him to be moving that quickly.”
Yingxing nodded grimly. “I see.”
“After you’ve eaten his heart, only after you’ve seen it through, you need to carve more of Shuhu’s flesh out and meet me at the Ambrosial Arbour with it.”
“Understood.”
“Give me your word, Yingxing. That you will consume his flesh, even if your body rejects it, even if it’s revolting–”
“I promise. I promise you, Dan Feng, Imbibitor Lunae.” Yingxing smiled, leaning forward to lightly kiss the crease in Dan Feng’s forehead. “I swear it.”
He heard more than saw Dan Feng let out a relieved sigh. “...Thank you. I hope… you will not come to hate me for this.” His voice grew quieter with each word.
“It’s only another odd delicacy to try, isn’t it?” Yingxing’s lips brushed against Dan Feng’s temple. “I could never hate you, especially over something so trivial.”
Dan Feng huffed a laugh despite himself. “I hope that’s true.” Slowly, his arms shifted, wrapping around Yingxing’s back. Yingxing returned the embrace, slowly swaying with Dan Feng in his arms.
There was much that had to be prepared, and Yingxing’s weapon still needed to finish being polished.
But for now, he could enjoy the feeling of Dan Feng in his arms, if only for a moment. He made a mental note that when this was all over, when the world was made right again with Baiheng’s presence returned to it, he would hold Dan Feng like a devotee at the feet of their god, layering affections and confessions so obscene upon him that his face and ears would turn a bright crimson in shame.
When he left a short time later, the stars still in the sky, Dan Feng was busy making careful, delicate modifications to his Transmutation Arcanum. He paused for a brief moment, wiping his sleeve over his brow before glancing at Yingxing. His eyes flickered with something, some hidden emotion. He opened his mouth as though to say something and then closed it, resolutely turning his face away, his ears an obvious shade of red.
Yingxing just smiled, amused by Dan Feng’s ever prideful nature.
“I’ll see you at the Arbour.”
“Yes,” Dan Feng replied quietly. “I’ll see you there.”
Dawn was barely showing itself when he reached the battlefield, the stench of death reaching Yingxing before the sight of it. He mentally braced himself, clenching his jaw slightly as the abandoned remains of hundreds of thousands of soldiers came into view, not yet retrieved from the carnage that had occurred mere hours prior.
As he walked through the piles of broken machinery and cold bodies, Yingxing forced back the burning threat behind his eyes, memories flashing through his mind.
He hadn’t been fighting– he never fought on the battlefield, being a craftsman rather than a warrior.
From his place at the back of the assault, with the military engineers and aurumatons, he couldn’t do anything other than watch as Dan Feng rose into the air, losing himself to his own power. He unleashed torrential storms and crashing waves down upon allies and enemies alike as a perfect effigy of the Reignbow Arbiter’s notorious friendly fire.
Yingxing could feel Dan Feng’s cold detachment through his bracer, his heartbeat thrumming like an ocean’s tide against Yingxing’s wrist. It was a frightening reminder of the respective divinity and impermanence that would always, always separate them.
As Dan Feng– no, Imbibitor Lunae– cast overwhelming destruction across the battlefield, his very form began to shift, growing and twisting until there was no longer the Dan Feng that Yingxing knew. In his place was a massive, horrifically beautiful dragon, coiling in the sky, jade scales and seaglass horns glimmering in the unrelenting downpour of rain and thunder.
The bracer lost all connection and Yingxing’s mind went blank, the other engineers shouting his name over and over to no avail. He stumbled forward, away from the aurumatons. Whatever he did would have been of no use, not with the Sanguinary Abyss preventing anyone from getting into the heart of the battle, where Shuhu no doubt was delighting in Dan Feng’s destructive loss of self.
Then, a single starskiff flew across the sky, a lone martyr piloting herself into the chaos, right into the enemy’s defenses.
She crashed through the Sanguinary Abyss, her starskiff faltering in the air.
Like a vengeful shooting star fired across the sky by Lan Themself, she plummeted into the fray, rising from her starskiff with flaming arrows burning brighter than the sun notched into her bow. Yingxing wasn’t nearly close enough to see her face, or hear anything other than the sound of the roiling clouds in the sky, but he imagined her screaming in desperation, her voice tearing through her throat as her arrows only glowed hotter before they were finally, mercifully, released.
Some kind of blackness arose in the center of the battle. At the same time, the fierce dragon in the sky flickered, the rainstorm gradually slowing to a sprinkle.
The blackness clashed with Baiheng’s flaming arrows, turning into a violent vortex of simultaneous blinding light and suffocating darkness.
As the dragon morphed back into a man, hovering high above everything else, the lone starskiff was sucked into the abyssal void, torn to nothing but scrap metal. The vortex detonated, disappearing as quickly and violently as it had appeared.
Yingxing closed his eyes, the battlefield now deathly silent around him. He wasn’t here to reminisce.
Swallowing thickly, forcing himself to take slow breaths, he continued walking, stepping over the bodies that would never return to their families– not in the genuine sense.
He neared the place where the vortex had detonated, the ground charred in a blank circle as a shadow of overwhelming raw power. There were no corpses to be found here, Shuhu’s or otherwise.
Dan Feng had already taken Baiheng’s remains, the few drops of blood and the single tuft of hair that had been left behind. Now Yingxing had to scout out Shuhu’s.
He looked around, still shoving the memories down as he searched the ground with his eyes. Leading away from the vortex’s shadow was a series of dark stains, accompanied by shallow scores in the ground.
Yingxing narrowed his eyes, his hand tightening on his sword.
Rather than being scared, he was aggrieved. Guilt, vengeance, and regret mixed in his heart like a storm of hatred.
He followed the trail, barely making it to the edge of the battlefield before he caught the sound of a wet, ripping noise. He looked down at the ground, at the trail of unnaturally dark blood that curved around a shredded aurumaton.
Yingxing stepped forward, his mind going blank as myriad void eyes rapidly lifted and landed on his indifferent face.
The Abundance’s Emanator was hunched over and still looking like he was wearing the effects of Baiheng’s fatal, final attack. The wet noise Yingxing had been hearing was actually his body slowly repairing itself, twisting and knitting together.
Shuhu held his gaze for a long, silent moment before he rose, slowly. He raised his blade, a silent declaration, and Yingxing did the same.
Yingxing wasn’t sure how long their fight carried on for, only that he felt broken and bloody before it was even close to an end.
His mortal body was already littered with gashes and bruises, blood seeping into his clothing, sticking in his hair, turning white into a red so vibrant it could rival the beauty of a freshly-bloomed spider lily.
His chest ached as it heaved for breath, one eye closed as thick, warm blood pulsed down his face. Shuhu didn’t look nearly as defeated– not yet. He stared down at Yingxing with a combination of contempt and curiosity, his limbs snapping back into place every time they were broken, his flesh stitching itself back together slowly but surely.
It was absolutely horrific, the image of Shuhu’s body renewing itself. The grotesque, unnatural sight in front of him sent an uncanny shiver down Yingxing’s back.
Still, he couldn’t let himself falter.
For Baiheng.
And for Dan Feng.
Their fight continued on, Yingxing forcing himself to ignore his ever growing injuries. The cultivation techniques he’d learned over the years helped somewhat, staunching the pain and letting him push past his limits.
Eventually, finally, as though the Aeons Themselves had smiled down at him, Yingxing’s sword struck true, sinking into what could only be Shuhu’s chest, into his heart.
Shuhu exhaled one shaky breath before grins split on each of his inhuman faces. “You can’t kill me, mortal.”
“I can still carve out your heart.” Yingxing dug his sword in and Shuhu screeched, clawed hands reaching up to grasp futilely at the sword. Yingxing twisted his wrist and Shuhu’s scream echoed in his ears, no doubt something that would haunt him for years to come.
As Shuhu collapsed to the ground, black tears running from his void eyes, Yingxing held his heart in his hand, the organ still throbbing with life.
Shuhu’s body twitched, still alive, but suspended with his core in Yingxing’s fingers.
Yingxing grimaced, fighting down the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake him. His breaths grew quick as he stared at the ugly, beating mess of blood and flesh in his hand.
He made a promise. And he intended to keep it.
He couldn’t fathom why this was so important to Baiheng’s revival, but he trusted Dan Feng, trusted him with his life.
So, inhaling through his nose, clenching his eyes shut at the rancid scent of warm blood overwhelming his senses, Yingxing slowly lifted the thing to his lips, his fingers trembling all the while.
He clenched his jaw one final time before resolutely opening his mouth and biting down, the taste of metal and meat flooding over his tongue. Shuhu’s hollow vessel gurgled, foaming at the mouth in front of Yingxing.
He gagged, his chest growing tight before he forced himself to swallow, the flesh sliding slimily down his throat. Yingxing coughed before he hunched over, staggering with the overpowering taste of life, of The Abundance itself in his mouth. His free hand barely caught his weight as he fell to the ground, body convulsing and threatening to bring Shuhu’s flesh back up from his stomach.
He pursed his lips, forcing the bile back down as he grimaced in disgust. Dan Feng’s words echoed in his ears, the plaintive look in his eyes.
Slowly, shaking violently, Yingxing took another bite.
Another, and another, and another.
Each bite was more excruciating than the last, more revolting than anything Yingxing had ever encountered before. The nausea became almost painful, like his body was desperately trying to reject the food he forced it to take.
With Shuhu’s blood slathered over his face, breathing heavily, Yingxing carefully lowered his now empty hand as he just stared open-eyed at the ground underneath his hands and knees.
Another wave of nausea crashed over him and he nearly retched, nearly undid everything he’d just fought to do.
He managed to reign his body in, just barely, as the taste of bile overcame the taste of blood on his tongue.
Shuhu’s mouths flapped wordlessly behind him, his still very-much alive remains twitching and spasming. Yingxing couldn’t tell if he was actually in pain or if his body was just trying to regenerate its missing core.
With finality, he raised a hand to wipe the blood away from his chin, though he realised belatedly that it did nothing to help, with both of his hands already drenched in red.
Wearily pushing himself to his feet, he stumbled towards Shuhu, raising his sword again to carve his flesh apart further as Dan Feng had instructed.
With each slow stroke of Yingxing’s sword, Shuhu flinched and jerked, but he was unable to do anything to fight back at this point, his body desperately regenerating at a sluggish, patchy pace.
When Yingxing had taken enough flesh to fill a small pouch, he cast one final look back at Shuhu, a look of pity and disgust. The Emanator was now nothing but a hollow shell of a being, unable to truly die even as he slouched over in a puddle of his own ichor.
Finally, Yingxing turned, abandoning the trembling, living corpse on the battlefield of its own making.
He unsteadily made his way towards the Ambrosial Arbour, leaving his own trail of blood as he staggered forward. His breaths shuddered with each painful step, his stomach still fighting against Shuhu’s heart.
Eventually, he made it to a starskiff, which gave him a bit of rest as he flew the rest of the way to the Ambrosial Arbour.
When he finally got there, Dan Feng was waiting for him, pacing nervously at the shore.
“Yingxing…!” Dan Feng looked more surprised than Yingxing had ever seen him before, his eyes rapidly falling over Yingxing’s blood-soaked clothes and the distant, tired look in his eyes.
Yingxing didn’t say anything. He just stumbled forward a few steps before collapsing into Dan Feng’s arms, his blood and Shuhu’s gore staining Dan Feng’s white sleeves even more than they already had been from the previous battle.
“I did it… What you asked me to…” Yingxing managed to say, the feeling of Dan Feng’s body, breathing and solid, a temporary comfort.
A hand shakily moved to his hair, once white, now almost certainly red.
“Thank you, Yingxing… Thank you.” Dan Feng’s voice quivered as his hand stroked Yingxing’s hair. “Thank you.”
Yingxing sucked in a pained breath, tearing himself away from Dan Feng’s embrace. “We have to get moving, don’t we…?”
Dan Feng looked over him one last time, eyes filled with a confusing combination of sorrow and… relief.
“Yes, we do. Baiheng is only moments away from us. Are you sure you-”
Yingxing sighed lightly, turning away from Dan Feng’s gentle hand. He could indulge later, when this was all over. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“...Very well.” Dan Feng’s expression cooled, back to the ever immovable Imbibitor Lunae. He turned and raised his two fingers, easily parting the ocean's waters, cleaving a pathway to the delves of the Ambrosial Arbour.
They walked silently, solemnly through the ruins.
Blood dripped with each step Yingxing took following Dan Feng, yet he persisted, trying not to show exactly how close to the edge of collapse his body was. The possibility that he could die before he made it back to the mainland burned in the back of his mind, a morbid reminder of his own mortality.
Dan Feng cast yet another concerned glance back at him, one that Yingxing responded to with a grimace of a smile. Dan Feng didn’t say anything, but his jade eyes glistened with worry, still red at the edges from the tears he’d been shedding not too long ago, after the battle had ended.
“I’m fine,” Yingxing grunted, holding back a wince as a wound in his side flared painfully. “Quit worrying so much.”
Dan Feng’s eyes scanned over Yingxing’s battered body. He still didn’t speak, but his lips drew thin in a displeased frown before he whipped his head back around, his long, bloodstained sleeves flapping with the curt motion.
They walked for a while yet, getting closer and closer to their destination, deeper into the palace ruins. Yingxing could feel the thrumming of the Arbour around him, the pulse of The Abundance. It grabbed at him, digging into his injuries like it was prodding at him, curious about his humanity.
Eventually, they came to a stop, Dan Feng dropping one knee to dig almost desperately at the ground around a large, golden root. Yingxing crouched next to him, helping as best he could.
They were silent as they dug, silent as they prepared a grave for Baiheng’s remains, meager enough to fit in a small sachet bag that Dan Feng had carried in his sleeve.
“Am I…” Dan Feng paused, his hands going still. “Doing the right thing, by burying her here?”
Yingxing looked gently at Dan Feng, at the sorrowful, defeated expression on his face.
Dan Feng slowly turned his head, meeting Yingxing’s concerned gaze with glossy eyes and knitted brows. “By placing Baiheng here, under the roots of the Ambrosial Arbour, hoping that maybe Yaoshi’s curse will actually be a blessing for once… Is this really the right choice?” He looked completely tormented.
“Dan Feng…”
“High Elder! What are you doing with the Transmutation Arcanum?!” Two Vidyadhara ran around the corner before coming to a halt, breathing hard.
Instinctually, Yingxing shifted, blocking Dan Feng with his body, his sword gripped in his hand.
“Leave. This doesn’t concern you.” Dan Feng spoke with absolute authority, something Yingxing hadn’t heard in a long while.
“But… High Elder… What you’re doing is–”
“I know precisely what I’m doing,” Dan Feng interrupted, a perfect image of determined impassiveness despite the vulnerability he’d been showing to Yingxing only moments prior.
Yingxing pushed himself to his feet, still standing between Dan Feng and the Vidyadhara.
“Imbibitor Lunae,” A Vidyadhara elder stepped forward just behind the other two, the expression on his face one of absolute disbelief. “This is preposterous!” Some Cloud Knights followed him in, muttering to each other when they caught sight of the Imbibitor Lunae crouched at the root of the Ambrosial Arbour. “You aren’t planning to… to bring someone back to life, are you? The Preceptors, they-”
Yingxing heard Dan Feng sigh behind his back, a sad, lonely sound. “You have no say in this. As the High Elder, I demand that you leave.”
“I will not allow it!” The Vidyadhara elder shouted. “It defies life itself!” The Cloud Knights raised their weapons, preparing to charge forward.
Yingxing's wounds were forgotten as he raised his sword, quietly whispering over his shoulder. “I’ve told you once that I’ll always be here to guard your back. That fact still stands true, whatever you choose, but…”
“Yingxing…”
His ears were ringing as images flashed through his mind of Baiheng’s smile, her cheery laughter, the way she was the glue that held the High-Cloud Quintet together even at the worst of times.
“I think it is the right thing to do, Dan Feng. We won’t finish this war without her.”
“Imbibitor Lunae… High Elder, please, see reason!” The Vidyadhara pleaded. “It will be an abomination, a creature with no rationality!”
Dan Feng didn’t respond. He just lowered his hands closer to the ground.
“Cloud Knights-! You must stop him, for the sake of the Xianzhou!” The Vidyadhara elder cried out, gesturing wildly to Dan Feng.
The Cloud Knights looked amongst themselves before steeling their resolve, facing Yingxing.
Yingxing inhaled a short breath, his grip tightening on his sword handle.
The Cloud Knights charged forward as Dan Feng’s hands trembled, hesitating.
Yingxing’s bracer grew warm against his wrist as he blocked a strike, and then another. Dan Feng’s thoughts began to flood into his mind uninhibited, likely a result of his distress and fatigue.
"Shuhu is defeated... We won, but how many more victories can we manage to achieve? How many more prices like this must we pay?"
Yingxing gritted his teeth, his wounds sparking with pain as he met the Cloud Knights’ blades.
"Look, the Ambrosial Arbor still stands. So long as it is alive, the monsters... They’ll come back again and again. The war of the Xianzhou Natives, the foxians, and the Vidyadhara against the abominations will never end."
The very edge of a spear managed to slice through Yingxing’s shoulder, though he pushed through the momentary stinging, raising his sword to bring it down over the Cloud Knight’s head.
Dan Feng… Yingxing thought, forcing his words through the telepathic link as he narrowly blocked a spear from striking Dan Feng. Each of us only really lives once, and even you Vidyadhara are no exception. But Baiheng was taken far too soon… If anyone deserved a second chance…
He had to pause to push one of the Cloud Knights back, giving Dan Feng more space.
"Yes, none of us are special! Each of us has only one life, sacrificing for this, dying for that... It's all our own choices. Just like how she chose to save you and Jingliu... Just like how she chose to let more people live on!"
Dan Feng then went quiet behind Yingxing, his thoughts briefly private once more. Yingxing’s blade went through the gap in one Cloud Knight’s helmet, a choking sound being muffled through the metal as blood poured down over his chest.
"If there's a chance... We should choose to let her, and more people, live on. We, the Vidyadhara, have our own way of salvation– With the Transmutation Arcanum, it’s possible. I can give it a try.”
As Yingxing’s sword pierced through the chest of the last Cloud Knight, Dan Feng lowered his hands carefully.
The Vidyadhara elder cowered where he stood, eyes wide as he beheld the carnage that Yingxing had wrought upon the Cloud Knights.
“Yingxing, give me Shuhu’s flesh.” Dan Feng turned slightly, raising a hand. Without taking his eyes off the Vidyadharas, Yingxing reached into his damp pocket to pull out the small pouch that had been soaked red. He dropped it into Dan Feng’s hand as he caught the sound of light footsteps somewhere ahead in the ruins.
Yingxing blinked as a golden light shone behind his back. He glanced over his shoulder to see Dan Feng standing, backing away from the source of the light.
“...It has accepted her,” he said, almost in awe.
“No… no… You can’t…” The Vidyadhara elder collapsed to the ground, eyes wide in horror. “Imbibitor Lunae, you’ll curse us all…”
The footsteps grew ever closer.
“You fools…” Jingliu stepped into the room, looking almost worse than Yingxing, her body barely holding itself together. Her injuries from the battle were still healing. “How dare you?” She looked up, glaring icily at Dan Feng and Yingxing.
At that very same moment, Yingxing’s pain was temporarily forgotten as the Arbour itself seemed to wrap around him, a warm cocoon embracing his weary soul.
He felt enlightened for a brief moment, like he had transcended his frail body. The Ambrosial Arbour pulled him in, drawing him close like the gentle, guiding hands of a mother.
Yingxing felt his awareness slipping away from him. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been floating in the air until the ground was rushing at him. He landed in the mud, unable to do anything other than lie there. As he looked up, barely holding onto consciousness, he saw Dan Feng, who stared down at him with something Yingxing had really never seen before. Happiness, guilt, and morbid curiosity all wrapped together.
The ruins shook around them, loose pieces of debris falling to the ground. Distantly, the sound muffled from somewhere much deeper in the ruins, there was an anguished roar, echoing its pain through the Ambrosial Arbour.
Dan Feng’s eyes widened, fear and doubt settling on his features.
Jingliu neared Yingxing, looking down at him with contempt, looking for all the world like a vengeful wraith. “I should kill you first… But you will have your own torment to bear for all eternity now.”
Her words were nonsensical to Yingxing, impossible to understand as he finally slipped away from the waking world, his eyes closing.
The ruins quaked again, the floor trembling beneath those that remained standing as the newly awakened dragon screeched from deep within the Arbour, already clawing its way to the surface.
Jingliu turned her attention to Dan Feng, who just looked back at her with the horrified eyes of a man who had just come to the realisation that he’d summoned a beast of destruction.
“Impossible… The Preceptors said…” He raised his shaking hands, staring down at them in shock. “With my blood… Shuhu’s flesh… The soul of my ancestor with the Transmutation Arcanum… It should have created another High Elder. All this… it shouldn’t be like this.”
Jingliu dismissed his ramblings. She raised the Shard Sword in her hand, the sword made by Yingxing, and pointed it at Dan Feng. “If your death could return everything to the way it was, I would kill you now.” She had no mercy left for the people she used to call her friends, the people she used to drink with, fight with, and laugh with. “But you still need to tell me where that dragon’s weak spot is. Now.”
Tears slowly gathered at the edges of Dan Feng’s eyes. “The… top of its head…”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the draconic abomination struck through the floor, collapsing the middle of the ruins as it made a desperate climb to the skies, its wings being shredded along the way by stone debris.
The other Vidyadhara and the bodies of the Cloud Knights were sent flying, either crashing into the ruin walls or falling into the bottomless pit that had been opened up beneath them.
The living atrocity thrashed against itself, wailing loudly and shrilly as its massive shadow was cast over the Xianzhou Luofu. The very sky itself seemed to shake as it cried, bringing lightning down around it as it became the heart of a calamitic storm.
Jingliu was still for a long moment, her fingers trembling slightly over the handle of the shattered sword. If Dan Feng had looked at her, he wouldn’t have known what thoughts were running through her mind, the memories, both good and bad, that threatened to overtake her.
Finally, she reached down and tore her own skirt. She raised the strip of black silk to her eyes, tying it behind her head.
Thunder rumbled through the Luofu, lightning and rain bearing down without mercy as the dragon cried in agony. Jingliu braced herself before leaping up, chasing after the abomination.
Dan Feng fell to his knees in the ruins, now opened to the storm raging in the sky. He was completely lost, a mere shell of the reserved figure the Luofu knew as Imbibitor Lunae.
Jingliu pushed herself further and further, her body nearing its limits. Slowly, as the rain and lightning barraged down on her, her flesh tearing away only to renew itself, she pushed through those limits, eyes burning red with determination. Her very sense of self was shredding away, disappearing along with her awareness as her body began to heal itself faster than it could even be injured.
Frost crept up her sword from her hand, turning it to ice before finally, its shape changed entirely, becoming a sharp piece of moonlight in her tightly gripped hands. Three feet and seven inches in length, weighing practically nothing.
She struck true, felling the beast as the storm threw her about in the air before letting her plummet alongside the tormented behemoth.
Meanwhile, within the ruins, Yingxing still slept, Dan Feng silently sitting by his side, one hand in his dark, midnight hair.
Memories flashed through Yingxing’s mind, a blur of his own life before his eyes before darkness settled over him like a cold, heavy cloak.
When he finally awoke, he was alone.
He sat up quickly, looking around the dark cavern he’d ended up in.
“Dan Feng?” He called out, receiving no answer.
The only thing around him was stone, moss, and dirt. And blood. A trail of dry, darkening blood that led into the abyss of a tunnel.
He swallowed heavily, desperately trying to recount how he got here to no avail. If he’d been a little less frantic, he might have noticed the bizarre absence of the many wounds that had previously afflicted his body.
He turned his attention to his bracer, casting his thoughts out to Dan Feng.
Are you there? Are you okay?
There was no response aside from the weak, barely-there heartbeat. Yingxing’s own heart pounded in his chest. Dan Feng was alive, at least, but barely.
Slowly, Yingxing’s panicked mind caught up to the echoing sound of footsteps down that bloodstained tunnel. His blood ran cold. He looked around the room for something, anything to defend himself with. Somehow, he found his own sword, sitting right next to him. Whoever had brought him here, whoever was walking down that tunnel, had left his weapon with him.
A low, almost inhuman muttering sounded from somewhere ahead and Yingxing froze. He barely recognised Jingliu’s voice, distorted as it was.
“How…” She mumbled, stepping into Yingxing’s line of sight. “How, how, how… how could you?”
A shaky gasp left Yingxing as he looked at her, at the clear signs of mara slowly etching into her body and voice.
He’d never expected to live long enough to witness Jingliu’s inevitable descent into madness. He’d known she was many, many years beyond himself, perhaps even close in age to Dan Feng, but he’d never thought he would have to see her in this state, especially not at a time like this.
The bracer practically ignited against his skin. A single word echoed through Yingxing’s brain and he wasn’t sure if it was Dan Feng or his own instincts.
“Run.”
He took a hesitant step back. There wasn’t anywhere to go. Jingliu stood between him and his escape, one hand clawing at her own face in agony.
The Shard Sword Yingxing had crafted for her lay heavy in her right hand, its point digging into the ground beneath her feet.
He noticed belatedly that Jingliu was covered in blood.
It was laughable how long it took for his mind to catch up to it. Her silver hair was practically crimson, her arms and legs stained with drying remnants of red.
Yingxing couldn’t see a single cut on her.
He knew, he’d been told plenty of times, that when Xianzhou natives become mara-struck, their rejuvenation abilities peaked, even regenerating faster than the mind could withstand.
But he was absolutely certain, without a doubt in his mind, that none of that blood was Jingliu’s.
“...Jingliu?” He tested carefully. His sword was within reach, but he hesitated to grab it.
A haggard laugh shook Jingliu’s entire body, her hand tightening on the Shard Sword. “How… How could you?!” Despite her words, she was still laughing, completely out of her mind. It was an unsettling sight, completely uncharacteristic for her. “You and Imbibitor Lunae…” She growled the title low in her throat like a poison. “You’ve betrayed the Xianzhou… betrayed life and death…”
“Jingliu, what have you done…?” Yingxing asked, his voice quivering.
Jingliu looked up at him suddenly, red eyes flashing with cold hatred. “Sin. Just as you and Imbibitor Lunae have sinned.”
Yingxing’s throat burned once again with the taste of Shuhu’s flesh.
The Shard Sword was flashing in her hand before he could think, coming down towards him.
Yingxing barely dodged it, scrambling for his own sword. He managed to turn around just in time to block Jingliu’s next strike, one hand under the handle of his sword and the other supporting the blade.
He saw his own reflection in his blade for a brief second and could have sworn his hair was… darker. The lines on his face a little less severe than they’d been in recent years.
He didn’t have much time to think, not with Jingliu drawing her sword back to strike again.
Yingxing was no match for her. He never had been, and he never would be.
Try as he might to fight back, to dodge and escape and defend, Jingliu was stronger and faster, not to mention rabid with mara.
The bracer hummed frantically, begging desperately for a response to an unheeded call.
Everything went silent as Jingliu’s sword, the one Yingxing had tenderly crafted himself, pierced right through his own chest, digging painfully into his beating heart.
He choked on blood, eyes wide in a daze, almost unbelieving.
He’d known this day would come, that the reaper would hunt him down eventually.
He just hadn’t thought it would be one of his closest friends.
Dan Feng’s voice had gone quiet, the bracer cool against Yingxing’s arm, leaving him feeling alone and desperate for warmth, his last moments bleeding out right before his own eyes. He wondered if he’d been imagining that it had even been warm in the first place, if the connection had been severed since he’d woken up.
Slowly, he looked up at Jingliu, his breaths stuttering in his chest with each painful inhale and exhale.
“I’m sorry…” His own voice sounded ragged in his ears.
Before he knew it, his eyes had opened again. He sucked in air, feeling cold and dizzy, the world tipping around him.
A hazy figure stalked towards him.
“You…” The word shuddered through Jingliu’s lips. Slowly, she walked forward, stepping closer and closer as Yingxing raised a shaking hand to his chest where her sword had been seemingly moments before.
Though his coat was still torn, the wound was gone, completely erased as though it had never even happened.
Jingliu was in front of him before he could blink, her sword slicing right through his throat.
Yingxing could do nothing, pain seeping through his body as his blood gargled out of the wound.
“Did you… did you… you didn’t…” Jingliu babbled, digging the tip of her sword into Yingxing’s shoulder, pushing him down to his back as his hands scrambled for his gushing neck.
Her voice became more manic, edging on laughter as she muttered. “You sinners…despicable!”
Yingxing couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. Moments ago, he could have sworn he’d died, the Shard Sword through his heart. Now, he was dying again, the very same sword having sliced through his throat.
He blinked as air rushed into his lungs. His throat was whole again.
He sat up, only for Jingliu’s sword to go right through his stomach, piercing through his back.
He couldn’t do anything but gasp, mouth opening and closing around nothing but his own utter confusion and pain.
Jingliu leaned close, close enough for Yingxing to make out the patterns around her deep red irises. “You indulged in Shuhu’s flesh, didn’t you?” Her eyes were wide, unblinking. “Submitted to temptation, to the pull of immortality…”
Yingxing was barely catching up to her words, still reeling from disorientation.
Once more, the world went dark for a brief, peaceful moment.
He was woken again and again, only for Jingliu to slaughter him over and over, the Shard Sword gouging deep scores across his body each time.
Slowly, through each mindless, excruciating waking, he came to realise the meaning behind Jingliu’s half-sane words.
He grinned despite himself, as tears flooded from his eyes at the same time. Jingliu’s sword ran him through again.
The blackness was calm, quiet.
He heard the memory of a voice, a question he’d answered without hesitation.
“Do you trust me, Yingxing?”
“Yes.”
He laughed as he blinked awake again, laughed as Jingliu’s sword pierced through his heart, ripping his chest open.
Liar.
You liar, Dan Feng.
As Jingliu continued her desperate, unending assault, her chest heaving and tears streaking through the blood splattered across her pale face, Yingxing just laughed through the repetitive agony, his own lovesick stupidity nothing but a joke.
“You must promise me…”
Imbibitor Lunae had always been cruel, had always lacked true humanity. Yingxing had never minded. He loved him all the same, even now, as he burned with lonely resentment.
“Give me your word…”
Yingxing had always known, had accepted, maybe even anticipated his own end coming long before Dan Feng’s reincarnation. He was human, it was only natural for him to live out his life and eventually die, withering away into nothing. He’d appreciated it actually, the limit of his lifespan granting him the ability to view the world around him as something precious.
The long-lived species, regardless of whether they were capable of love or happiness or empathy, always lacked that shimmering lens that let Yingxing glow with creativity, inspired by the beauty of his own impermanence. He took pride in it, even as his hair turned greyer and his eyes grew blearier and his joints grew weaker.
“I hope… you will not come to hate me for this…”
Hatred… Could he really come to hate Dan Feng?
He wasn’t sure of the answer anymore.
The pain continued torturously as Jingliu slaughtered him again and again, cleaving canyons across his flesh with the sword he’d made out of his own humanity, the humanity that had now irreversibly been torn away from him.
Perhaps the bracer had gone cold, his connection with Dan Feng severed, because he’d abandoned Yingxing to his suffering, knowing full well that he would never truly greet death now.
He was content after confirming that Yingxing was no longer mortal. So he’d turned away, silently assured with how he’d just singlehandedly destroyed every single semblance of trust Yingxing had ever had in him.
Yingxing’s mind flickered in and out of consciousness, whether he was alive or not.
As much as the image of Dan Feng slowly fractured in his memories, part of Yingxing still longed for some kind of signal from the bracer strapped tightly to his arm. Warmth, a voice, anything, just to assure him that this was all just some cruel joke.
But there was nothing– nothing except the searing, gripping torment as his body was torn to shreds only to put itself back together again, over and over, a neverending cycle.
In the darkness between his life and death, he saw a golden glow, like a pair of eyes cutting through the nothingness around him. A gaze that wrapped itself around his heart, through his rapidly healing injuries. It disappeared before he could even look back at it, and he woke from death only to once again be run through by a shattered sword.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, how many days or nights might have gone by. Perhaps years had passed by now, maybe even centuries.
He woke slowly this time, his body still rebuilding as he came to. He was lost in his own mind, unsure of his own name or where he was. Still, a fiery vengeance raged through his very being. He had to find… something. He had to ruin it, obliterate it.
He looked up to see a woman sitting against a blood-splattered cave wall, looking like she’d been bathed in red. He couldn’t even tell what colour her hair was underneath it all. Beneath her was a puddle of that same red, a small pool around her, soaking into her clothes.
“I will train you,” She said finally, her voice raspy and low. “I’ve already brought myself back, forced my consciousness back into this hollow shell of mine. All I had to do was stab my own sword through my heart. Again, and again, and again.”
The man glared at her, unsure of her words. His hand felt instinctively for the sword at his side, finding it easily.
“Don’t bother.”
She was in front of him before he could move at all, her icy blade cutting through his throat easily as though gliding through nothing but water.
He continued to wake up, over, and over, and over. It was so repetitive it almost became monotonous.
Slowly but surely, he became less and less disoriented by the gaps between breaths, the short expanses of darkness that only lasted until he opened his eyes.
At the same time, his memories became blurry images, things that existed separately from his being. Like they were experienced by another person entirely, a person named ‘Yingxing’.
He began to wake up in different places, began to travel bit by bit while he was alive, searching endlessly.
All he knew was that burning need, a destructive desire embedded into him. There was something he needed to find, someone. He couldn’t rest until their head was in his hands, severed gracelessly from its body.
He would find them, hunt them down like prey. He was sure of that.
That woman continued to find him, muttering each time in that ragged voice of hers about training him, letting him off the leash a bit to see how he was adjusting.
Eventually, she cornered him one final time.
“Do you remember?” She asked plainly as thunder rumbled in the distance, the sky turning grey.
He could summon the memories well enough at this point, even though they were no longer his. “I do.”
Her lips lifted in a small smile, her eyes hidden behind the silk cloth on her face. “Good.”
She struck, her sword cleaving into him yet again. He fell back into the cycle of dying and waking. He wasn’t sure how many times.
His attacker was gone when he slowly roused, sitting up in a withered grave.
Her sword was left behind, laying heavily over his body and shredded clothes.
The memories were splotchy, but present, filled with jade and gentle caresses and blood-soaked hands.
Something pulsed on his arm, like a heartbeat separate from his own against his wrist. He looked down to see the bracer, radiating with a flickering, weak pulse.
As rain slowly began to fall over him, the water soaking into his midnight hair, he pushed himself out of the grave, clutching the shattered sword tightly in one hand.
He looked around with wild, red-orange eyes, unsure of his surroundings.
Without any path in mind, just knowing that whichever way he walked it would lead him to that someone, he wandered.