Chang-li stepped out of the portal into chaos and confusion. The training room was full of people in robes, and for a moment, he thought he'd interrupted a practice session. Then he realized that half the people in the room were wearing distinctive orange and blue robes, not Morning Mist's subtle shades. And the one in the center had a sword drawn.

Min was there, wielding a lux bow. Her face lit up with relief as he appeared.

Chang-li stepped into the room, the portal closing behind him and Joshi. The man at the center of it turned to face him. Chang-li knew those robes. These were Soaring Heavens cultivators, the same as Young Master Feng had been. And this man here, who now smiled as he looked on Chang-li and Joshi, resembled Feng. He was older, with a neat goatee. His eyes raged like a wild beast's.

"There you are at last!" he shouted and raised his hands. "The heavens are witness. I take vengeance now for my brother!"

Chang-li didn't need to wait any longer. He'd figure out what was happening later, but it was clear, Soaring Heavens had attacked Morning Mist, and this man wanted them dead. His core trembled with latent power. His lux-channels burned. It was time to act.

Chang-li wove an open-ended Firepot, pressing his hands against his midsection instinctively as he felt his core rotating at an odd frequency. He vented yellow lux through both sets of channels and out his hands and spat a beam of fire straight at the Soaring Heavens cultivator. It caught him in the chest and knocked him backward against the wall.

Dropping his technique, Chang-li hurried to Min, even as Joshi started toward the knot of Soaring Heavens cultivators guarding Morning Mist captives. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. We don't have time. There's more of them." She glanced at him, sighing in obvious relief as the Morning Mist disciples began to shove aside their captors. "You're just in time."

Joshi had reached the cowering Soaring Heavens cultivators. He picked two of them up by the neck and smashed their heads together, dropped them, seized another and threw him out the door. Cheering, Morning Mist turned on the others.

"What's going on?"

"Exalted Master Feng and his sect attacked us. They brought along Inquisitor Pak as well, or she brought them. Pak and Noren are fighting now. There's more Soaring Heavens upstairs."

"I'll stop them," Joshi promised and started up the stairs, leaving the Morning Mist disciples to handle the remaining Soaring Heavens.

Exalted Master Feng had begun to stir. Chang-li's attack hadn't taken him out.

Chang-li pushed Min toward the steps. "Help the others."

Now Chang-li strode across the room as Feng got to his feet. Min hesitated on the steps, but Chang-li decided she could take care of herself. He had vengeance to wreak.

As Feng got to his feet, Chang-li wove a technique in his right hand. He drew his sword and empowered the blade with Bloodflame Toxin. The technique felt more vicious than usual, like his lux was taking on a life of its own. That was distantly worrying to Chang-li, but only a bit. Mostly he was reveling in the feeling of power that flowed through his veins. He'd never sensed that before.

Feng was grinning like a madman. He had a sword of his own, and it glowed with blue flames.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Wu," he spat. "You'll pay for what you did to my brother. But know this: I'm going to kill every member of your sect, your wife, your friends, and then I'm going to claim this place as the new headquarters of Soaring Heavens. I will raise us up, and the name of Morning Mist will be forgotten."

Chang-li unleashed the technique in his hand. It was a simple blue and yellow weave. Feng was so busy with his rant, he didn't even try to block it. The weave wrapped around Feng's head. He screamed.

Chang-li stepped in swinging his sword, but even with the weave obscuring Feng's vision, he blocked the blade. Feng pulled the weave from his face and blasted a handful of flame at Chang-li, who ducked. Then Feng swung on him.

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Chang-li conjured Mirage Blade and caught the attack with the illusory weapon. With his true blade, he slashed and cut Feng on the shoulder, tearing through his cultivator robe. Feng snarled, in anger, then in pain as Bloodflame Toxin took hold.

Chang-li danced back, his dual blades both gleaming with lux. He cycled his lux and flared his will, focusing them together and smashing them against Feng.

Feng roared. He pushed back against Chang-li, his own will pulsing, but strong. It broke through Chang-li's concentration. Feng followed up with a leaping attack. He slashed his sword, and a compressed wedge of luxes and sound cut through the air.

Chang-li jerked his head to the side. The technique grazed his cheek, drawing blood, and a few strands of hair fluttered to the ground, but otherwise, he was unharmed.

He synced his lux and his will, calmly inhaling more and more lux from the air. Feng was practically frothing at the lip, angry. Something in Chang-li seemed to resonate with that anger.

Enough. End this.

Feng came toward him. He seemed to be moving slowly. Chang-li had plenty of time to see the weave he was forming, to sidestep it, slide, slash it with his Mirage Blade, while he sliced his real blade through the air straight toward Feng's chest.

Feng stepped to one side, just as Chang-li had expected, and Mirage Blade buried itself in his chest. Feng's eyes went wide. Blood sprayed from his mouth. He opened and closed his mouth several times, without sound coming out.

Chang-li let Mirage Blade dissolve. He swung his other blade hard and cut Feng's throat. The cultivator dropped to the floor of the training hall, blood pooling on the mats. His core, vented lux into the air.

Chang-li watched it. He could have stretched out and taken the lux if he had chosen. He'd never seen before that that was possible. He let it go. There was no need for Feng's lux, not with the thickness of the air here.

Chang-li's blood roared. His sect wasn't safe yet. He couldn't rest.

Min was staring at him from the stairs. "You... you just, it was like he was nothing."

"He was nothing," Chang-li said brusquely. "We don't have time. Quick."

She nodded and started upward, Chang-li on her heels.

Chang-li cycled furiously as he raced up the stairs, passing Min easily. He didn't have long to anticipate what he'd find. The second floor held the old dormitory-style rooms of presumably the lesser disciples of Morning Mist. Someone had made great efforts since the last time he'd been here to clean the place up, efforts which had been undone by the fighting in the corridors.

Soaring Heavens clashed with Morning Mist and Brotherhood. Men in gray and brown Brotherhood tunics carrying long staffs struck at the cultivators, while Morning Mist acolytes, most of whose names he didn't even know, tossed techniques.

Chang-li fell on the first Soaring Heavens man he saw. Their bright blue and orange robes, at least, made them stand out against the grays and browns. He slashed with his true blade and the Mirage Blade both, and the man fell away, bleeding, grasping at gaping wounds, his horror turning to pain and panic as Bloodflame Toxin set in.

The cultivators and Brotherhood stood up straight, saluting him. "Master Wu! Master Wu!"

"Get out of my way," he growled, and raced past them.

By the time he was done cleansing the corridors of the second floor, his anger was higher, not lower. He had not been in time to save everyone. But he'd cut down every Soaring Heavens cultivator to cross his path, and he didn't feel bad about it at all.

He heard clashes from the floor above, so he raced past the Brotherhood members tending to the wounded and upstairs.

On the third floor, he found the more senior Morning Mist disciples holding their own in fights against Soaring Heavens.

Morning Mist had, it seemed, raided the script library of the ancient sect. Something flared in Chang-li's breast: pride, anger, a little annoyance at priceless resources being used up, and he fell upon the enemy.

His swords flashed.

He'd never kept Mirage Blade up this long before. It must be a benefit of having reached the Peak of Spiritual Refinement, or maybe he was just getting better at it.

Whatever the case, Chang-li raced through the pack, every strike landing home.

He was approaching where three Morning Mist had two Soaring Heavens cornered against the head of the railing, when there was a great rumbling crash in the sky above. He skidded to a halt and looked up.

There, in the skies above, hung Grandmaster Noren. He was fighting another cultivator, a woman.

"What's going on here?" Chang-li shouted.

Brother Stone, somewhere behind him, answered, "We don't know. They attacked us a few hours ago. Noren and that woman have been fighting since."

"It's the Inquisitor," Min called. She had finally caught up with him.

Chang-li started in to help bring an end to this last fight, but the two Soaring Heavens cultivators took one look at him, and hurled themselves over the edge of the headquarters.

Taking a deep breath, Chang-li forced himself to turn back.

Min looked grimly worried. She eyed him top to bottom before saying: "That's Inquisitor Pak, who came to speak with us in Vardin City. She must not have liked our answers. She followed us here."

"And brought these dogs?" Joshi asked, prodding at one Soaring Heavens body with a toe.

He looked at Chang-li, respect in his eyes.

"You fought like a man possessed."

Chang-li started to answer, but as his anger and his cycling ran out, he felt pressure and pain in his chest. He tried to answer, but he couldn't breathe.

He stumbled back against the wall and slid down to a seated position.

Min was kneeling over him at once, pressing a hand to his forehead and another to his wrist.

"His heart's racing so fast. What's wrong?" She sounded terrified. "Chang-li? Chang-li, stay with me. "

There was another crack of thunder in the sky. Chang-li's eyes rolled back in his head.

It had been a long day. He just needed to rest.

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