The air was too still.
Xu Tianyin's grip tightened around his staff as he scanned the darkness. His pulse had steadied, but the tension in his shoulders remained. He wasn't naïve enough to think this was over.
His attacker lay unconscious at his feet. The rest remained unseen, but he could feel them—watching, waiting.
Then, from the depths of the shadows, came a slow, deliberate clap.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The sound was soft, almost mocking.
A figure emerged from the darkness, dressed in robes that seemed to shift like liquid night. Their face was partially obscured by a mask, but their stance was relaxed—too relaxed.
This was someone who did not consider him a threat.
"You surprise me, Xu Tianyin," the figure said, voice smooth, unreadable. "For someone abandoned by the heavens, you've learned how to dance rather well."
Tianyin said nothing. Words were wasted on those who had already decided his fate.
The figure tilted their head, stepping closer. "No response? A shame. I was hoping you'd have something poetic to say about your tragic existence."
Still, Tianyin remained silent.
This was a test.
Not of strength, but of control.
The moment he reacted—whether with anger, fear, or defiance—he would be giving them something. A foothold.
So he gave them nothing.
The masked figure exhaled through their nose, as if slightly amused. "Very well." Their fingers moved in a lazy gesture, and from the darkness, more figures stepped forward. "Let's see how long that composure lasts."
The first strike came faster than he expected.
A blade sliced through the air, forcing Tianyin to pivot sharply. He barely had time to deflect before another attacker closed in from behind.
This wasn't like before.
They weren't testing him anymore.
They were trying to kill him.
Tianyin shifted, absorbing the impact of a kick against his ribs, using the momentum to spin into the next attack. His staff lashed out, catching an enemy across the wrist, forcing their weapon to clatter to the ground.
But there were too many.
A strike landed against his shoulder. Another along his ribs. His vision blurred for half a second, and in that brief moment of weakness, a boot slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling across the dirt.
Pain lanced through his body, but he forced himself to his feet.
The masked figure sighed. "That was disappointing."
Tianyin wiped the blood from his mouth, breathing raggedly.
He couldn't win this fight.
But he didn't have to.
Because as he took a slow step back, he felt it.
A presence.
Not his enemies.
Something else.
Something watching from the void between existence and absence.
The masked figure must have sensed the shift because they hesitated. "What—"
And then the world tilted.
For a single, breathless moment, the air itself seemed to tremble. Shadows stretched unnaturally, bending toward Tianyin like silent hands reaching through the fabric of reality.
The masked figure took a sharp step back. "What is this?"
Tianyin didn't answer. He wasn't sure he could.
Because for the first time in his life—
The void was answering him.