The road stretched long and lonely before them as Xu Tian, Yan Mei, and Qiao Rui left the town behind. Dawn’s light had melted into midday heat, and the rolling hills seemed to shimmer under the sun. Despite the quiet scenery, tension hung heavy in the air. The fight with the Scarlet Peak disciples weighed on all of them, though none of them spoke about it.

  Xu Tian walked slightly ahead, his shoulders tense, his mind a chaotic mess of thoughts. He kept replaying the battle in his head—the power he had unleashed, the fear in Zhao Feng’s eyes, the star’s relentless whispers urging him to take the final step.

  He hadn’t killed them, but the truth gnawed at him: it hadn’t been mercy that stayed his hand. It had been hesitation.

  “You faltered,” the star’s voice cut through his thoughts, cold and sharp. “They will see it as weakness. Do you think they will show you the same mercy?”

  Xu Tian didn’t answer. He knew the star was right.

  Far away, in the heart of Scarlet Peak’s sprawling mountain fortress, Zhao Feng knelt before a massive jade throne. His robes were torn, his body bruised and battered, but his head was bowed in deference to the man who sat before him.

  The sect master’s presence was overwhelming, a suffocating weight that filled the grand hall. His crimson robes shimmered with faint spiritual energy, and his sharp, hawk-like gaze bore down on Zhao Feng with unflinching intensity.

  “You failed,” the sect master said, his voice calm but laced with menace. “Three of you, and you still couldn’t bring him back.”

  Zhao Feng’s fists clenched, his head lowering further. “The situation was… unexpected, Sect Master. Xu Tian has bonded with a buried star. His power—”

  “—is a threat,” the sect master interrupted. “One we cannot afford to ignore.”

  Liu Qing, standing nearby with her arm in a sling, stepped forward. “Sect Master, if I may—Xu Tian isn’t just dangerous. He’s unpredictable. The star’s influence is growing stronger. If we don’t act quickly, he could become something far worse than a rogue cultivator.”

  The sect master leaned back in his throne, his expression thoughtful. “You’re suggesting he’s walking the path of the Wraithborn?”

  “It’s possible,” Liu Qing said.

  The sect master’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Good. Let him. A Wraithborn is far easier to control than a man with free will.”

  Back on the road, Qiao Rui broke the silence with a low whistle.

  “Cheerful group we are,” he said, glancing at Xu Tian. “You’ve been quiet. Brooding about your big heroic moment?”

  Xu Tian shot him a glare. “What do you want, Qiao?”

  “Nothing,” Qiao Rui said with a grin. “Just curious. I mean, sparing those Scarlet Peak fools was… unexpected. Brave, even. But let’s be honest, it wasn’t the smartest move.”

  Xu Tian’s shadows stirred faintly at his feet, but he forced them back. “I didn’t spare them for their sake.”

  Qiao Rui raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then why?”

  “Because killing them would’ve been too easy,” Xu Tian said coldly. “I want them to go back to their sect. I want them to tell their elders exactly what they saw.”

  Yan Mei frowned, stepping into the conversation. “You’re provoking them on purpose?”

  “They’re coming for me either way,” Xu Tian replied. “I’d rather face them head-on than wait for them to hunt me down.”

  Yan Mei shook her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Xu Tian. The Scarlet Peak Sect doesn’t take humiliation lightly. They’ll come back stronger next time.”

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  “Let them,” Xu Tian said, his voice hard. “If they want a fight, I’ll give them one.”

  As the afternoon wore on, dark clouds began to gather on the horizon. The wind picked up, rustling the tall grass and carrying the faint scent of rain.

  “We should find shelter,” Yan Mei said, glancing at the sky. “That storm’s going to hit soon.”

  Qiao Rui pointed to a cluster of trees in the distance, their branches gnarled and thick. “There. That’ll keep us dry for now.”

  They reached the trees just as the first drops of rain began to fall. The storm rolled in quickly, the sky turning a murky gray as thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Xu Tian leaned against the trunk of a tree, his arms crossed as he watched the rain pour down. Yan Mei and Qiao Rui sat nearby, their voices low as they exchanged quiet conversation.

  The star’s voice stirred again, faint but persistent.

  “This storm is nothing compared to what awaits you,” it whispered. “The heavens are watching. The sects are moving. Do you truly think you can stand against them all?”

  Xu Tian closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “I don’t need to stand against them all,” he muttered. “Just the ones in my way.”

  “And when they break you?” the star asked.

  “They won’t,” Xu Tian said firmly. “Because I’ll break them first.”

  As night fell and the storm raged on, Qiao Rui leaned back against a tree, his hands resting behind his head. “So,” he said casually, “how much do you two know about buried stars?”

  Yan Mei glanced at him, her brow furrowing. “Enough to know they’re dangerous.”

  Qiao Rui chuckled. “That’s an understatement. Buried stars aren’t just dangerous—they’re cursed. Legends say they were torn from the heavens, banished to the earth because their power was too unstable. Some say they were corrupted by something older than the heavens themselves.”

  Xu Tian opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on Qiao Rui. “And you believe that?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I believe,” Qiao Rui said with a shrug. “What matters is what happens to the people who bond with them. You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you? About the Wraithborn?”

  Xu Tian’s hands tightened into fists. “I’m not going to end up like them.”

  “Maybe,” Qiao Rui said. “But you should know, the Wraithborn didn’t start out as monsters. They were people—powerful cultivators who thought they could control the stars. But in the end, the stars controlled them.”

  “That’s enough,” Yan Mei said sharply, her gaze hard. “He’s not like them.”

  Qiao Rui held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just sharing a little history, that’s all.”

  As the storm began to ease, Xu Tian stared out at the horizon, his thoughts heavy. He didn’t trust Qiao Rui, and he wasn’t sure he trusted Yan Mei either. But one thing was certain: the road ahead would only grow darker.

  Far to the north, in the heart of the Celestial Ladder, the heavens began to stir. The sects were moving, their plans unfolding as whispers of the buried stars spread across the land.

  And in the shadows of an ancient ruin, a figure knelt before a shattered fragment of light, their voice low and reverent.

  “The time is coming,” they murmured. “The stars will rise again.”