Silence fell upon the ravaged Graveyard Forest.

The golden glow that once tore heavens apart faded, leaving faint motes of divine light drifting like dying fireflies. The earth still steamed, cracks glowing faint amber beneath the settling dust. Ruined gravestones lay shattered, trees turned to charcoal shadows, and the land seemed humbled — as though bowing to the will of a higher power.

At the center of it all, Shaurya lay motionless, blood pooling beneath him, divine aura flickering like the last ember refusing to die.

His body—gold moments ago—now looked painfully human. Fragile. Mortal.

Lin Shu held him in her lap, trembling, tears falling silently.

"…You idiot," she whispered, voice small, breaking. "You really… you really meant you'd fight even if you had no chance…"

Shaurya exhaled a weak breath, eyes half-open, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"If… I don't stand… then who will?"

Her grip tightened.

"Stop smiling. You scare me when you smile like that."

Around them, the Sanatan Flame Sect formed a ring—elders at the fore, disciples behind, every gaze fixed on their Sect Master. The Moonlight Pavilion stood farther back, stunned into reverent quiet.

Systu's voice dropped to a grumble only he could hear.

> "Rest, you reckless fool. If you don't want to die."

A faint grin touched Shaurya's lips. "…Good partner."

Lin Shu pressed her forehead to his. "Don't move. Not even a little."

"Wasn't planning to," he breathed. "My body submitted a resignation letter."

A thin ripple of relieved laughter passed through the disciples—raw, frayed, grateful.

Silence clung to the shattered Graveyard Forest like ash-soaked mist. The earth was torn and hollowed, black scars running like dead rivers through what once pulsed with sinister Yin. The last echoes of battle faded into trembling leaves and distant coals of dying spirit-light.

And in the center of that ruin—

Shaurya rested limp in Lin Shu's arms.

His body was pale, lashes lowered, breath gentle… too gentle. His golden aura had dimmed to small flickers, like starlight in dying embers. Blood stains dried dark along his robes, testament to a battle so fierce even heaven might have flinched.

Lin Shu lifted him with both arms, gathering him protectively against her chest.

Her cheeks burned red to the tips of her ears, but her grip did not waver. The cold battlefield air brushed her hair aside, revealing a determined gaze glimmering beneath the blush. Shaurya's face pressed lightly against her clavicle—warm, exhausted, peaceful.

Shaurya twitched faintly, embarrassed even in unconsciousness, his expression softening as he instinctively buried his face in her shoulder.

Around them, disciples stifled laughter behind sleeves, a mixture of relief and teasing warmth sparkling in their eyes. They knew better than to comment out loud—life was sweet, but not sweet enough to gamble against Lin Shu.

Only Elder Wan cleared his throat in an awkward, grandfather-like way and stepped forward.

His sleeve flicked, and from his storage pouch appeared a glowing jade pill, fragrant and swirling with healing essence. "Well… Master, take this. It will help you."

Shaurya, weak and barely conscious, murmured, voice thin but polite, "Thanku… Elder Wan."

He tried to raise his hand—only for it to tremble and fall helplessly. Before anyone else could react, Lin Shu gently lowered him slightly, still holding him from one arm, the other reaching to accept the pill. Her movements were careful, soft, as though cradling the moon itself.

With delicate fingers, she fed the pill to Shaurya. The faint glow dissolved on his tongue.

Then, without hesitation, she lifted him back up again, bridal-style, tightening her hold as if afraid the world might snatch him away.

Elder Feng Yu stepped forward, voice ringing with command that cut through the stillness, "Everyone, we are heading out of this Graveyard Forest!"

Relieved nods rippled through the sect. With spirits weighed and hearts lightened, they turned and began walking towards the forest's edge. Shaurya slept quietly now, the pill already knitting torn flesh and sealing vital meridians. His breaths deepened, stabilizing into peaceful rhythm.

Around them, swords sheathed with soft clicks. Boots pressed into damp earth. Disciples whispered and chatted softly, voices rising with restored calm. The armor of fear shed, their steps lightened, joy returning like sunlight after endless rain.

The Graveyard Forest itself had changed—its sinister mists lifted, revealing skeletal trees and old, cracked tombs beneath sudden clarity. Where once all was shadowed and drowned in Yin fog, now sky peeked through jagged branches, the world raw and newly exposed.

Soon, they reached the entrance of the Graveyard Forest.

There waited the Howling Abyss Sect—faces strained with uncertainty, formation held tight as if expecting the world to collapse.

Zia Bailey was the first to spot them. His eyes widened, and without hesitation he strode forward, his sect members following closely behind.

Elder Wan greeted him with a tired but genuine smile. "Oh, Sect Master Bailey. Is everything okay?"

Zia Bailey bowed, breath rushing out in visible relief. "I am the one who should ask this. What happened inside the forest? The ground trembled, and we felt a powerful spiritual pressure. We saw a huge spiritual explosion, and suddenly the mist disappeared. Where is Sect Master Shaurya?"

Elder Wan lowered his gaze, stepping aside.

Lin Shu stepped forward, carrying Shaurya in her arms. Her eyes shadowed with exhaustion and worry, never leaving his face even once.

Zia Bailey froze. His jaw dropped. His voice trembled, "Wh— What happened to Sect Master Shaurya? Is he alright?"

Elder Wan shook his head, a grave weight in his tone. "We encountered a really strong and ancient Cultivator. If it weren't for the Master, we would all have died easily."

Fear rippled through the Howling Abyss disciples. Their faces turned pale, breaths hitching.

Then Elder Wan offered a small, warm smile. "But don't worry. He needs a good rest, and he will be okay."

Zia Bailey exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping in relief. "That's great. I hope he recovers quickly. The Secret Realm is gonna close in less than two months."

Elder Wan nodded. "I hope so."

Zia Bailey bowed one last time. "I will take my leave first. If everything goes well, then we will meet again."

He turned, waved his hand, and left with his sect. Their silhouettes faded into the forest's clearing light.

Then Meng Liyu stepped forward, her elegance unshaken even by battle's aftermath. She bowed respectfully before Lin Shu. "I think I should also take my leave."

Lin Shu blinked, surprised. "Huh? So soon? Can't you stop for a little while?"

Meng Liyu smiled softly and shook her head. "I also want to stay, but we have to explore more of this Secret Realm and want to become strong like you all. So we will meet soon."

Lin Shu nodded slowly. "Take care of yourself."

Meng Liyu offered one last gentle smile. She turned and left with the Moonlight Pavilion disciples, disappearing into the distance like a fading petal.

And then, only Sanatan Flame Sect remained.

Elder Feng Yu clapped his hands. "We will camp near the beach again. Until Master recovers."

Everyone nodded with unified resolve and began moving, following the familiar path back to where they once rested before the storm of battle.

From storage pouches came folded tents, spirit-cloths, talisman stakes. In swift, practiced motions, a temporary encampment rose once more near the ocean's calm breath.

Lin Shu pulled the main tent from Shaurya's storage ring, setting it with reverent hands.

Inside, she lowered him gently onto a soft bed, adjusting his robes, brushing stray strands of hair from his forehead. Shaurya slept, his injuries now mostly healed, face peaceful like a warrior granted momentary heaven.

Lin Shu knelt beside him, her gaze softening, heart wrapped around every breath he took.

She grasped his hand—firm yet trembling—her thumb brushing lightly across his fingers.

"Recover quickly…" she whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, spreading down her neck. Her lashes trembled, courage gathered like shy fire.

She hesitated, eyes squeezing shut—

Then, in the softest, most fragile tone:

"…My love."

She bowed her head, burying her burning face into the bedsheet beside him, hiding her fluster and heartbeat as if the world might hear it.

Outside, the waves whispered against distant sand, and the camp lights flickered warmly through tent walls.

Inside, silence held them—two souls closer than fate, wrapped not by battle or destiny now, but by quiet tenderness after the storm.

A dozen meters away, the disciples of Sanatan Flame Sect huddled near the bonfire, pretending to check weapons but clearly staring toward the tent.

Xiao Rui leaned close to Lee Bie, whispering with sparkling eyes, "D-Did you hear? Seems like Elder Lin and Sect Master… Progressing in their love."

Lee Bie's voice trembled with excitement. "I-I think this is the official start of romance arc!"

Behind them, Luo Chen and Wang Tian—still bandaged like mummies—stiffened, then groaned emotionally.

Wang Tian sniffled dramatically. "Our Sect Master… is growing up in his love."

Luo Chen wiped his imaginary tears. "I always knew Master was destined for greatness… but I didn't expect romance breakthrough that early."

Su Quan shakes her head. "Its not early, it's late."

Everyone's heads bobbed intensely like possessed chickens.

Even the normally calm disciples sparkled in the firelight, hearts pounding with second-hand joy.

And beneath that—

A vow silently passed among them:

> We must all cultivate harder.

So Master never has to bleed like that again.

They bowed toward the tent as though offering prayer.

A sect not just loyal—

but family.

To Be Continued.....

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