The group arrived at the ruined outskirts just as the first light of dawn crept over the shattered battleground. The scene was grim: fallen warriors lay scattered, and among the chaos, the victor's Death Arms pulsed with a strange, eerie light as they absorbed the lingering soul fragments of those who had perished.
Raikai's eyes widened in disbelief as he surveyed the carnage. "Look at this…" he murmured, his tone a mixture of awe and frustration. "Our clan's combat power has grown so much. I remember when we were three going up against eight at Phoenix Cry… now it's like every warrior here is a living weapon."
Shinryu, ever the pragmatist, grunted in agreement as he helped a wounded comrade to his feet. "Combat is all we know. Nobles waste their time with etiquette and endless cultivation studies. Here, we fight—and we fight hard. It's what makes us who we are."
Their conversation halted abruptly as they noticed the most disturbing detail: the victor's Death Arms were absorbing the soul energy from the fallen wielders' weapons. A ghostly glow filled the air where these fragments should have passed into the new owner's power.
Raikai's fist clenched tightly, and he shouted, "Damnit! We didn't absorb that elder's soul fragment! By now, those fragments should be part of our weapons, strengthening us!" His voice echoed across the quiet devastation.
Shinryu placed a steadying hand on Raikai's shoulder, his tone calm and measured. "It's not all lost, brother. Remember, that elder was stuck at the Qi Fusion Refinement stage. There's a chance his soul was too weak, too ordinary. We might have lost a potential power boost, but it wasn't something extraordinary."
Amid the murmurs of recovery, a boisterous cheer rose from the edge of the crowd. Shin Keilan, standing apart with a sly grin, had just completed his rematch and claimed the biggest spoil of the day. His Death Arms now boasted a new shadow-void move set—a gift that allowed him to step silently even while in full combat. His eyes sparkled with triumph as he declared loudly, "Ha! My deadliest move just got a massive boost! Every step I take now is silent as a ghost. Let that sink in!"
A younger warrior nearby laughed, "Keilan, you never cease to amaze us!"
Keilan retorted with a playful smirk, "Just wait until you see what I do next. I'm not just a fighter—I'm a shadow incarnate."
As the wounded were tended to and the fallen respectfully cleared away, the group began to regroup. They gathered their gear and moved methodically, their conversation low and determined as they prepared for the next phase of their journey.
High above the trees, hidden among drifting clouds, a middle-aged man in a worn obsidian outfit observed the scene with a complex expression. His eyes narrowed as he considered the contradictions of the day. Muttering to himself, he said, "What a contradictory set my uncles TorraZhen and ShinRai have set for me to protect. First, they say to stay out of trouble and avoid conflicts, and next—look at this—they're dueling in the middle of town. Now a genius from the Black Lotus Sect is dead, and his group of thirty young upstarts is left scattered."
He let out a short, mirthless laugh. "At least my time won't be boring watching over them," he mused, his tone both amused and resigned. With a final lingering glance at the chaotic scene below, he vanished silently from the skies.
Raikai, still seething from the earlier loss, turned to Shinryu as they gathered with their clanmates. "I can't believe we lost that elder's soul fragment. It should have made our Death Arms stronger—maybe even given us an edge in the upcoming battles."
Shinryu shook his head slightly. "Focus on what we have now, Raikai. That elder was stuck at a refinement stage that wasn't remarkable anyway. We still have our power—and with Keilan's boost, our arsenal is more deadly than ever."
Raikai sighed, the tension in his muscles easing just a bit. "You're right. Our combat skills have grown, and our unity makes us unstoppable. Let's keep moving—Death Knights' territory awaits, and we can't afford any more delays."
A nearby warrior piped up, "Boss, what about the Black Lotus? They're still out there, aren't they?"
Xue Mor, who had been quietly coordinating with her brothers, stepped forward with authority. "We'll deal with any threat that comes our way. For now, we regroup, tend to our wounded, and move forward. Our mission isn't over yet."
The murmurs of agreement rippled through the group as they set off once more, their hearts steeled for the battles ahead. In the wake of tragedy and triumph, the warriors of Phoenix Cry pressed forward into the unknown—united by blood, shadow, and the relentless drive to prove their might in a world that knew only combat.