CHAPTER 269: TOMORROW AWAITS

Author’s Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapter Is Still Under Construction.

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Flame spun out like a corkscrew and hissed through the night, boring a hole clean through a stacked barrel.

The wood didn’t burn; it smoked for a heartbeat, then cracked, cleaved in a perfect spiral path.

Victor skin tingled as the flames in his eyes went out. The control was exquisite.

Unlike the regular fire breathing, Skyfire Spiral II was like a spinning blade of flames.

The regular Dragon Breathing could burn anything but it wasn’t sharp. It could still be blocked if the target was sturdy enough but then Skyfire Spiral II which was more of a spinning flame blade could cut through sturdiness.

He realized he could thread it through a Shadow Crescent Strike, lace it on his a blade’s edge.

He grinned. "Nice."

Next: Void Severing Thread.

This one was trickier, half-bloodline instinct, half technique. He closed his eyes and felt for the vibrating edge of space around him.

There, something as thin as a hair materialized.

He plucked it, sending a faint ripple across space.

His bloodline responded. The arrow marks along his skin tingled.

He pinched thumb and index together, drawing out a strand of nothingness that shimmered like hot air.

It tinged in his grasp, eager, hungry. He flicked it toward a pile of crates. The strand hissed through the air and in the next instant, one crate slid apart as if someone had gently separated it along a seam.

He raised an eyebrow. "That’s... an invisible space thread this sharp?"

He practiced and drew three more invisible threads from space and swung them out.

A pole as thick as half a man’s waist came crashing down after being split in two.

On another end, a chair slowly wobbled for a few seconds. A line that was so thin, it couldn’t be seen with the ordinary eye had split the chair from top to bottom.

Due to this, it took time before the piece of wood fully separated and fell.

However, Victor noticed that a tree on the east didn’t cut all the way through.

"It’s limited but nonetheless, very good... I’m sure it’ll get sharper when I increase my Mastery of the technique," Victor could see a lot of potential in Void Severing Thread.

He grabbed the Moonshadow Guard, unsheathed his blade, and affixed the crescent guard with a click. The sword purred. He ran a trickle of qi through it. The blade drank it eagerly as the guard stabilised the flow into a clean, sharpened stream.

It was like, his qi reacted almost instantaneously when he tried to channel it while he was armed.

He proceeded to test out other new techniques for a few hours and also the ones he had just unlocked in order to slightly increase his Mastery.

By the time he finished, sweat slicked his hair to his nape.

His qi reserves were pleasantly pruned.

...

...

Victor strolled through the streets of Lingyun Town just as dawn’s first light gilded the rooftops.

Three days had passed in quiet routine: meals shared with Chen Wen and his father over steaming noodles, unhurried strolls along the riverbank where lantern boats drifted in the soft current, and afternoons spent in the old mill’s courtyard refining his newly unlocked techniques.

Skyfire Spiral had become second nature; the helix of flame now danced through his wrists and danced along his blade as instinctively as breath. Void Severing Thread; those glimmering strands of nothingness, worried the edges of crates in the millyard like playful wraiths, loosening nails and window latches merely for him to watch them fall.

Between sessions with Chen Wen’s experimental dumpling recipes and Liu Shen’s carefully brewed tea, he’d finally unfurled the ancient healing scrolls Lady Li Yang had entrusted him with a year ago.

He remembered her daybreak steaming smile as she pressed the rolled parchments into his hands: "You’ll need more than blades soon."

Victor had been so busy that he never had the time to check out the content of the scrolls but now he did.

The first technique; "Azure Wound Mending Palm" responded to the white-dragon inheritance thrumming in his veins.

It was just like Lady Li Yang suspected back then. Healing scrolls truly were compatible with the pond of dragon tears he absorbed.

He pressed fingers together, steadied his heart and cupped a tiny bloom of qi between his palms.

When he opened his hands, the air shimmered, and a faint silver mist drifted upward.

He tested it on a broken plank, and the cracks sealed. The wood smoothened as though clenched by unseen claws of restoration.

"Now I can fix things that are not alive too?" Victor was quite astonished by this but didn’t stop here.

He alternated between the scrolls and techniques from the White Dragon Legacy.

The next he learnt was: "Dragon’s Tear Soothing Flow,"

It was a gentle stream of qi meant to wash toxins from blood.

He channeled the white-dragon legacy—tender, merciful—through his arms and watched a small pool of crimson ink swirl into a pristine clear well.

Each day he devoted hours to those arts, strengthening his qi reserves and deepening his legacy integration. The townsfolk, catching glimpses of shards of pale light, whispered blessings. Mothers walked children by simply to watch that strange, beautiful glow.

And then, as all things do, those three days blinked to an end. The scent of jasmine tea still lingered in his room at Lingyun Rest when he rose early on the fourth morning. His body felt supple, at ease; even his scars ached less.

He stepped outside toward the square’s center—where Lingyun the Hero’s statue stood. The stone figure dominated the plaza: sword held aloft in his right hand, left palm open in a gesture of peace. The statue’s bronze sheen had been polished recently, reflecting Victor’s own gaze back at him. The familiar rune-inscribed plinth crackled faintly with passive wards—an aura he recognized only after years of training.

Victor squared his shoulders, mirroring the pose exactly: heel raised, stance rooted, spine straight as a blade. His fingers traced the sword’s hilt inscribed on the statue’s sheath. The metal was cool beneath his fingertips. He pressed both palms against the statue’s breastplate.

A sudden crackle of energy roared like wind through an empty hall, and the world shifted.

He did not move. The square, the river, the lantern boats—all dissolved into memory until he stood alone in a vast emptiness of darkness flecked with pinpricks of starlight. A single, silvery pillar rose from black mist: the Gate of Lingyun’s Realm.

Here he had first learned to coax his qi into a blade’s edge, an anchor in the void. It was the sanctuary of the ancient martial hero Lingyun, whose spirit glided beside him now—tall, robed in fading moonlight, features gentle but proud. The ghostly form regarded Victor with hollow, patient eyes.

"Welcome, disciple," Lingyun’s echo whispered, voice like wind through bamboo.

Victor bowed his head reflexively, as if visiting a teacher. "Master Lingyun."

But as soon as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of his mind—an echo of a dream, half-remembered. A rush of cold water. A flash of jade blades. A child’s sob.

He shook his head. "I... I’ve returned?"

Lingyun’s silhouette shivered. "You arrive as you always do, in times of rest and in slumber. Your qi called you here more often than you knew."

Victor’s heart stuttered. "I... I have been coming in my sleep?"

The hero spirit’s eyes gleamed. "This realm is bound to your destiny. When your mind drifts beyond waking, it seeks these lessons."

Memories cascaded—fragments of midnight meditation when his breathing oddly synchronized with Lingyun’s ancient diagrams. Times he had woken with the taste of starlight on his tongue. Fleeting instincts that had guided his sword when no conscious thought remained.

Victor stepped forward, kneeling on the mist. "I... I thought it was merely a dream."

The spirit nodded. "A dream until now. You have grown strong enough to shape your destiny awake or asleep."

He remembered the healing scrolls unrolled on his tatami. The thrill of weaving new arts. But the dream-world lessons—Lingyun’s perfect stances, the intricate flow of martial arrays—they had sunk deeper than he realized.

Lingyun’s form drifted closer, spectral robes trailing. "This realm honors your dedication. Speak your wish, and I shall guide you further."

Victor rose, mindful of the void beneath. "Master, I wish... to master all my newly claimed arts—both this world’s and my bloodline’s—so I can stand against any threat, anywhere."

Lingyun’s spirit smiled, a crescent of moonlight. "Then walk the Path of Echoed Steps. Show me the Art of the Crescent Flame and the Unbroken Seal."

Victor bowed and breathed deep. He reached first for Skyfire Spiral, igniting a spiral of flame threaded with void qi. In this realm, it felt sharper, more alive. He slashed at the air—each arc chime-like, rippling the starlit darkness.

Next he wove Silent Needle Array, stamping the ground with minute runes that blossomed into ethereal lotus of light. The seals shivered—then blossomed, locking into perfect geometry.

He felt Lingyun’s gaze, approving.

Then came the white-dragon stream within his arms. He chanted the healing incantation; a glimmering aurora of silver qi flowed from his hands, dancing across the mists before fading into threads of pure light.

He practiced each new skill again and again, bones aching, qi singing. Lingyun guided his stance, correcting a foot angle, a twist of the hip. Each shift polished the techniques until they were seamless.

Eventually, Victor fell to one knee, drained but triumphant. The mist rippled. Lingyun’s spirit placed a translucent hand on his shoulder. "You have done well, disciple. The Path of Echoed Steps is open to you—for as long as you continue to strive."

A warming pulse flowed along Victor’s skin—an unseen blessing. Then the realm receded, the Gate closed behind him like a sigh, and he stood once more in Lingyun Town’s square, palms still pressed on the statue’s cool bronze.

He breathed deeply, cheeks damp with sweat, hair lifting in the night breeze. Overhead, the moons still hung, pale watchers in a velvet sky. The townsfolk’s lanterns blinked softly from windows around.

---sss

They emerged from the swirling currents like ghosts clawing their way back to the realm of the living.

One by one, Victor and the others broke through the surface of the cold water, gasping for air as the glistening veil of the waterfall roared down behind them.

Sunlight kissed their soaked forms unlike the world they had just escaped which was bathed in eternal twilight.

Victor pulled himself onto a rock ledge and stared up at the sky. Real, blue sky.

They were out.

Aeri Fan groaned as she rolled onto the mossy bank. "I never want to see another floating rock again."

Brin flopped beside her. "Or upside-down mountains. Or gravity that makes no damn sense."

"I feel like... I’m going the wrong way even when I know I’m not," Mirael stumbled as she tried to stand and immediately veered left when she meant to go right.

"Yeah..." Victor nodded. "Our bodies got used to that world’s reversed motion system. Muscle memory’s gone full traitor."

The group staggered awkwardly across the damp clearing, drenched, disoriented, and aching but alive.

Tarkos scanned their surroundings with narrowed eyes. "We should get moving. The longer we stay in the Blight Swamps, the more chances something else decides to hunt us."

"Agreed," Aeri Fan said and closed her eyes. A thin glow traced down the veins of her face as she reached inward toward her soul bounded mount.

A moment later, she opened her glowing Soul Eye. A ripple of spiritual light shimmered in her gaze.

"I’ve found her," she voiced with a swell tone but in the next instant, her expression turned concerned. "But... something’s wrong."

"What is it?" Victor asked.

"She’s being attacked." Aeri’s hands clenched. "Surrounded."

The bond between beast and master was more than just emotional... it was spiritual.

Aeri saw flickers of struggle and pain.

Her mount was being marched away by a group of cultivators.

However, the moment it sensed the call of its master, it forcefully thrashed around and leapt into the air.

It’s massive wings beating against the sky as it flew off.

Victor stood up. "We’ve got to go to her."

"She’s already coming." Aeri pointed toward the southeast. "She broke free and is heading here."

They turned their gaze in the direction she indicated.

Not even a minute passed before a tremendous roar echoed through the trees, followed by the thundering flap of wings.

A massive serpentine and lion mixed beast emerged from the forest canopy with a scorching heat trailing behind her as she descended.

She landed hard enough to shake the ground.

Victor stood beneath the veil of starlight in Lingyun’s Realm, the air humming with the echo of his restored memories. As his mind settled on the martial postures he’d practiced moments before, a soft chime echoed through his vision. A translucent window flickered into view:

---

[ System Notification ]

Recalibration Complete

Enlightenment Gained: The Spirit of Lingyun Reborn

Unlocking New "Lingyun Martial Techniques"

– Crescent Dragon Step (Mastery: 10%)

– Iron Petal Palm (Mastery: 10%)

– Silent Crane Stance (Mastery: 10%)

---

Victor’s breath caught. Three brand-new martial arts, each imprinted upon his qi matrix like fresh impressions in wet clay. He bowed to the empty air, gratitude humming through his veins, then began to train.

Crescent Dragon Step summoned a wick of void qi around his feet as he leaped through the shimmering mists, each landing a perfect half-circle that carved shallow grooves into the ethereal ground. He practice-stepped in ever-widening circles, his robes fluttering like dragon’s wings.

Iron Petal Palm bloomed next: he gathered qi into his palm, shaping it into a blade of compressed air and steel resonance. A single strike against a phantom boulder carved it in two, shards of mist dancing like frozen lotus petals before vanishing.

Silent Crane Stance followed: he sank into an impossible one-legged posture, weight balanced on the heel, his qi focused into a pinprick center. He held it, wind drifting through his white hair, until his muscles trembled. Then he launched skyward, dropping into a flawless downward kick before landing in a whisper.

With each technique he felt the mastery bar tick upward—ten whole percent of understanding in a single session. Content, he sheathed those new skills within his consciousness and moved toward the silent pillars marking Lingyun’s sanctuary gate. He bowed once more to the spirit’s memory, then stepped through the threshold back into town square.

---

[ System Notification ]

Lingyun Realm Session Ended

Time Played: 2 Hours 37 Minutes

Victor’s pulse raced; he glanced at the small counter in the corner of his vision. Only one day remained before the timer ended and he would be unceremoniously ejected back into reality. But he had decided: when he returned, he would not stay here. His path lay back in Blueflame City, where responsibilities and dangers awaited.

For now, three things remained: first, he must attend the wedding of Bai Ting Ting and Chen Wen tomorrow; second, he must find Tarkos to arrange his departure; third, he must savor these final hours in the town he had saved.

---

Outside Lingyun Rest, dawn broke pink and gold. Lanterns still hung from eaves, their painted cranes nodding in the gentle breeze. Victor made his way up the wooden stairs, past the familiar lacquered floors, and paused at the open window. The sun glowed over the mist-shrouded rooftops. Below, maids and servants fussed over the wedding pavilion being erected in the square—a lattice of red silk and carved pillars, dragons coiled around columns and phoenixes embroidered into the canopy. Brass braziers hissed incense that smelled of sandalwood and jasmine. Musicians tuned guzheng and erhu beneath a flutter of red banners.

Victor stepped into his borrowed guest tunic—crimson silk trimmed in gold brocade—and ran a hand through his white hair, pinning it back with a simple jade pin. He sheathed his sword, its silver guard catching the light, and made his way to the square as the wedding guests began to gather.

---

The Wedding of Bai Ting Ting and Chen Wen

The central pavilion had been transformed into a shrine of union: scarlet drapery hung in swags, lanterns carved like peony blooms illuminated soft dragon-carved beams, and flowers—peonies, orchids, plum blossoms—overflowed from bronze urns. A low dais sat beneath a canopy of red silk, embroidered with twin cranes locked in eternal flight.

Chen Wen waited at the far end, clad in deep navy robes embroidered with silver lotus vines. His hands were folded before him, nerves trembling beneath his composed exterior. Bai Ting Ting approached on the red carpet—her gown a flowing cascade of ruby and crimson, phoenix feathers woven through the hem, the collar standing high behind her neck. Her face, pale behind the traditional veil of gold-lace netting, seemed to glow in the morning sun. The crowd gasped at the sight: two hearts, once severed by fate, now stepping forward to bind their destinies.

An elder officiant—clad in white silk with jade pendants—raised his hands. He intoned the traditional vows in Old Tongue, each syllable echoing among the paper lanterns:

"Under Heaven and the Lofty Peak, we join these two souls in sacred bond. May their union stand as firm as mountain stone and as pure as the flowing waters of Lingyun Spring."

Ting Ting and Chen Wen kneeled on embroidered cushions, heads bowed. Each received a sip of ceremonial wine from a red lacquered cup: three sips for Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. Chen Wen raised his cup first, his voice trembling, "Heaven and Earth bear witness, my heart is pledged to Ting Ting." Ting Ting mirrored him: "By Earth’s grace and Heaven’s blessing, I bind my soul to Chen Wen."

Then came the exchange of bodiless rings—jade bands carved with double dragons entwined around lotus blossoms. Chen Wen slid Ting Ting’s ring onto her finger; she did the same for him. As their hands touched, a burst of red and gold fireworks bloomed along the edges of the pavilion roof, the first of many celebratory bursts.

The crowd erupted in cheers: "Long live the bridegroom! Blessings upon the bride!" Children ran about scattering petals; elders waved silk handkerchiefs in rhythmic wind-dances. The musicians struck up a joyful melody of bamboo flute and zither.

Victor, standing among the honored guests, felt a warm satisfaction settle in his chest. He had guided these two back to each other. The town would flourish once more.

As the newlyweds stepped forward for the final bow, Victor cleared his throat. The music stilled with a soft trill as dozens of pairs of eyes turned to him.

He raised his voice, steady and clear, carrying over the gathered crowd: "Friends of Lingyun Town, honored guests, and most of all, Bai Ting Ting and Chen Wen—my congratulations to you both on this day of union. Tomorrow, you begin your life together. May your hearts remain steadfast in times of joy and in times of trial."

A respectful hush fell, then thunderous applause. Ting Ting’s veil shifted, revealing her tear-bright eyes. She nodded gratefully. Chen Wen bowed deeply to Victor, a rare genuine smile breaking through tears.

A man in the back called, "Fang Chen! A speech! A toast!"

Laughing, Victor lifted a crimson cup of sweet rice wine. "To the bride and groom—may your days be as warm as summer’s sunrise, your nights as sparkling as Lingyun’s moons, and your hearts ever joined in harmony." He drained the cup in a single motion and set it down, the crowd exhaling in approval.

At that moment, the breeze shifted. A swirl of petals drifted in through the pavilion’s open sides. The petals coalesced to reveal a lone figure—Bai Xue—her face hidden beneath a hood of pale silk, white hair spilling like moonlight. For a heartbeat she hovered in the falling petals, then glided forward to stand beside Victor, her presence cool and urgent.

The music screeched to a halt; the crowd’s chatter snapped off like a flame in the wind. All eyes turned to Bai Xue. Ting Ting gasped, Chen Wen tensed. Victor raised an eyebrow, the color draining from his face.

Bai Xue inclined her head to him, voice soft but echoing: "Fang Chen—there is no time to explain. The moment you depart Lingyun, catastrophe will befall the town. Meet me at the old willow bridge before dawn tomorrow."

---sss

The last lanterns of the wedding ceremony burned low, their red glow slipping toward embers as the guests filtered out of the Pavilion of Crimson Silk. Chen Wen and Bai Ting Ting—newly married and still flush with joy—wandered hand in hand among the scattered peony petals, accepting bows from lingering friends. Victor stood by the carved marble fountain at the edge of the square, watching the couple with a small, satisfied smile. The air still shimmered faintly with the echo of fireworks, and over in the corner, children chased one another beneath dangling lanterns.

A swirl of sheer white fabric announced Bai Xue’s arrival. Despite her habitual hood, her silver hair caught the lantern light, and she moved with the grace of drifting clouds. She glanced around, then inclined her head at Victor. He fell in beside her, nodding curtly, and together they passed through the thinning crowd toward the Bai family’s private quarters—an ornate hall of dark timber and jade screens, tucked behind the main pavilion.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Bai Yong, Bai Ting Ting’s father, stood by the carved altar, robes of deep indigo and silver clasped at his throat, face taut. Beside him, Elder Madame Bai—her grandmother—sat on a high-backed chair of carved rosewood, her hands folded over a jade scepter. Two younger elders, Master Hui and Master Zhen, flanked the far side of the low council table, their expressions grim. Chen Wen and Ting Ting hovered near the door, sharing worried glances. Victor was ushered immediately to a stool beside Bai Xue, while the senior Bai family gathered in a semi-circle before the altar’s pale lotus carvings.

Bai Xue spoke first, voice low but clear. "Thank you all for staying after the ceremony. I know this is not the evening any of us planned—" She glanced at Ting Ting, who offered her a trembling nod. "But I believe—no, I know—we must plan for the safety of Lingyun Town."

Bai Yong’s brows furrowed. "What news have you brought, daughter?" His usual calm was tempered by a fierce protectiveness.

Bai Xue took a breath. "Across the eastern valleys and the southern plains, small bands of rogue cultivators have risen." She paused, letting the words settle like stones. "They fight for scraps of territory: abandoned villages, mining outposts, river crossings. They pillage the weak, enslave the defenseless, and vanish before any official force can mobilize. They are desperate—hungry for power."

Madame Bai’s pale eyes snapped up. "Surely they would not dare cross the borders into our domain? We have the four families to protect us."

Bai Xue shook her head. "That is exactly why they might dare. Until recently, the Zhao, Yan, Qin, and—in name—the Bai families formed an unspoken coalition. Our combined strength discouraged anyone from testing us. But now—the Qin family has been driven out, and the Yan elders exiled. The Zhao elder was crippled in the uprising. We remain, yes, but alone. The Bai family stands unopposed against any single group, but against a coalition of rogues? We risk being overwhelmed."

A low murmur coursed through the elders. Master Hui thumped his cane against the floor. "Are you certain this threat is directed at Lingyun? Or just opportunists moving through?"

Bai Xue’s eyes flicked to Victor, then back to the council. "Word has reached me—and to the merchants on the caravan routes—that Lingyun Town is vulnerable. Our gates have been seen unmanned at odd hours, our patrols thinned. They see a town without its legendary warrior families... and soon without its champion." She looked to Victor and gave a sharp nod. "When the news reached those rogues, they laughed. ’A sleeping tiger,’ they called it—’drag its claws and see where it bleeds.’"

Ting Ting’s face paled. "You mean they’ll strike here? At the person we... that we called savior?"

Chen Wen clenched his fists. "They won’t harm him. The Chosen Protector of Lingyun is as close to invincible as any soul can be."