The flames painted the wilderness red.

Mo Li's breath came in broken gasps as she stumbled through the undergrowth, branches tearing at her sleeves and the scent of burning timber still clinging to her hair. Each step echoed like a heartbeat against the silence of the forest. Behind her, the outpost blazed—a pillar of ruin against the starlit canopy. The sky itself seemed to weep with ash.

Her master's final words echoed in her mind: "Tell Li Wei… the Blood Path rises anew."

Her fingers tightened around the charm Bing Cao had thrust into her palm before the flames took him. It pulsed faintly with residual warmth, the last imprint of his qi—steady, patient, and unyielding even in death.

"Master…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You said pain is a forge—but how do I temper what's already broken?"

The forest did not answer. Only the low hiss of wind moving through pine needles replied, like the whisper of ghosts.

Then—movement.

Something shifted within the shadows ahead. A flicker of qi, faint but deliberate. Mo Li froze, lowering her stance. The charm's glow dimmed as she concealed her aura. Her hand brushed the hilt of the dagger at her waist, the steel cool against her palm.

"Who's there?"

No response—only the rustle of leaves.

Then a voice, deep and measured, rolled from the darkness. "You have the scent of blood and regret about you. Both draw predators."

A figure stepped into the moonlight.

He was tall, cloaked in worn travel leathers, a hood concealing most of his face. But his presence was unmistakable—calm, centered, like a still lake concealing hidden depths. The faint glow of an imperial insignia gleamed upon his belt.

"An imperial scout," Mo Li breathed, lowering her blade only slightly.

The man inclined his head. "Formerly. Now I'm merely a wanderer." His gaze flicked toward the burning horizon. "That blaze—Blood Lotus work?"

Her throat tightened. "Yes. Li Wuji commands them now. The relic has surfaced."

The man exhaled softly, almost like a sigh. "Then the old nightmares have returned to walk among the living." He turned his gaze to her again, sharp and assessing. "You were with Bing Cao, weren't you?"

The question struck like a blade through silk. She nodded.

He closed his eyes briefly. "Then the elder's sacrifice was not in vain. I am Ren Kai—scout of the Northern Prefecture. The Protector's orders sent us to track disturbances near Crescent Moon City. We arrived too late to save the outpost, but not too late to hear what you've seen."

"Protector Ba Zi?" Mo Li asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone. "He burns cities for coin and calls it order."

Ren Kai's gaze hardened, though his voice remained even. "Perhaps. But if what you say is true, the threat we face is far older than his greed. Come—we must reach the border camp by dawn. The northern garrisons must be warned before the Blood Lotus spreads its rot."

Mo Li hesitated. The thought of turning back toward another seat of authority—another cold hall of decrees and ambition—filled her with quiet dread. Yet she knew retreat was no longer an option. The relic had awakened something vast.

"Lead the way."

The wilderness stretched before them like an ocean of shadow. They moved swiftly, silent as wraiths beneath the canopy of ancient trees. Each step crunched over frostbitten leaves, the air thick with the metallic scent of qi residue left from the earlier battle.

Ren Kai spoke little, but when he did, his words carried the clipped precision of a soldier long accustomed to danger. "Li Wuji… I've heard that name. From a mere fisherman in a backwater county, to a disciple of the Crimson Pagoda Sect, expelled for forbidden cultivation. They say he vanished after slaughtering his master."

Mo Li's gaze remained on the path. "He hasn't vanished. He's gathered bandits and vagrants—turned them into zealots. The Blood Lotus relic bends their will like reeds in a storm."

Ren Kai's jaw tightened. "That relic was sealed during the reign of Emperor Xuanlong. It should have been buried beneath ten layers of suppression talismans. If it's free now, someone wanted it found."

The words struck a chord in Mo Li's mind. Someone wanted it found.

A whisper of memory surfaced—Bing Cao's suspicions, half-spoken during their journey north. The sudden increase of jade quotas, the silent movement of imperial troops near Crescent Moon, the whispers of Ba Zi's interest in old relics.

She clenched her fists. "Then this isn't a coincidence. The relic's reappearance, the patrols, even the outpost's supplies seems all of it feels interlinked."

Ren Kai shot her a sidelong glance. "You think Ba Zi himself?"

"I think," she said coldly, "that Ba Zi would trade the blood of ten thousand innocents for a single artifact that promised him power."

The man gave no answer. His silence, however, was telling.

By the time dawn began to creep across the horizon, the forest gave way to rocky plains. The border camp rose in the distance—a sprawl of tents and barricades surrounding a towering watchfire. Soldiers moved like shadows among the ramparts, their armor glinting dully in the rising light.

Ren Kai signaled her to halt. "Stay behind me. They'll take you for a deserter if you rush in unannounced."

Before she could reply, a low horn sounded across the camp. Patrols shifted formation, and from the command tent emerged a figure in polished crimson armor. The sight froze Mo Li where she stood.

It was Mu Zhang, the captain of the imperial guard she had glimpsed once before in Crescent Moon City. His presence was commanding, radiating authority like the edge of an unsheathed blade.

"Ren Kai," he greeted, voice deep as thunder. "You've returned late."

The scout saluted. "Forgive the delay, Captain. We intercepted a survivor from the northern outpost. The Blood Lotus cult has resurfaced."

Mu Zhang's expression darkened, the faintest flicker of anger crossing his otherwise controlled demeanor. "Ba Zi will want confirmation before he acts. But if the cult truly stirs…" He turned his gaze upon Mo Li. "Speak, girl. Tell us what you saw."

Mo Li's heart pounded. The memory of the inferno, of Bing Cao's last stand, flooded back in painful clarity. She recounted everything—the relic's awakening, Li Wuji's control over the bandits, the clash with the Imperial Patrol, and the destruction that followed.

By the time she finished, the camp had grown silent. Even the crackle of the watchfire seemed subdued.

Mu Zhang exhaled slowly. "So it begins again."

Ren Kai frowned. "You've seen this before?"

The captain's gaze turned distant. "I was a boy when the last Blood Lotus purge was declared. It took three provinces to burn the sect from existence, and even then, fragments survived—whispering their doctrines beneath our feet." He looked at Mo Li again. "You've done well to survive, girl. Bing Cao's courage will be remembered."

Her throat tightened. "Remember, our goal is stopping what he died to contain."

Mu Zhang's jaw flexed. "You have my word."

By midday, the camp stirred with motion. Scouts prepared to ride, carrying sealed orders to the prefectures. Messengers invoked communication talismans that shimmered with violet light. Yet even amid the bustle, an undercurrent of unease thrummed through the soldiers.

Mo Li stood by the watchfire, staring north toward the smoke still faintly visible on the horizon. Ren Kai approached, carrying two bowls of rice and dried venison.

"You've seen enough of war to last ten lifetimes," he said quietly, offering her a bowl. "But I fear your path won't grant you peace just yet."

She accepted the food absently. "Peace died with the outpost."

"Then let vengeance live wisely," he said, his tone gentler than before. "You spoke of Li Wei in your account. He's no myth, then?"

Her eyes met his. "No myth. My master believed he could unite what's left of the Liu. If anyone can stand against what's coming, it's him."

Ren Kai's expression hardened with resolve. "Then perhaps the North will see its first true warlord in centuries. And the world may tremble for it."

Before she could answer, a runner approached, breathless. "Captain! Urgent dispatch from Crescent Moon City!"

Mu Zhang took the scroll, unrolled it, and read in silence. His eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" Ren Kai asked.

"The Wu clan stronghold was attacked at dawn," Mu Zhang said grimly. "Witnesses claim the assailants bore the mark of the Blood Lotus. But more disturbing, the relic's aura was sighted again… near the Protector's Pavilion."

Mo Li felt the blood drain from her face. "That means—"

"Yes," Mu Zhang finished. "Li Wuji lives."

Night descended once more over the northern plains. Within the command tent, strategy maps littered the table. Mu Zhang traced routes with his gauntleted finger. "We ride for Crescent Moon by dawn. Ren Kai, take three units ahead and secure the southern gates. Mo Li—" He paused, then set his gaze on her. "You'll ride with me. Your knowledge of the Blood Lotus Martial techniques could prove vital."

She nodded, though unease twisted within her chest. The image of Li Wuji's crimson eyes haunted her thoughts. If he had truly survived Bing Cao's sacrifice, then the relic's influence was growing faster than any of them imagined.

Outside, thunder murmured beyond the horizon of a storm rolling in from the east.

Mo Li glanced toward the darkened sky and whispered under her breath, "Master, guide my steps. The storm gathers… and I fear we are walking straight into its heart."

The wind answered, cold and sharp, carrying with it the distant scent of burning cities.

Far away, in the depths of the Protector's Pavilion, Ba Zi stood before his throne, gazing into a crystal orb that shimmered with faint red light. Within its depths, a single image flickered—the Blood Lotus relic, beating like a heart.

He smiled faintly, his voice a whisper that slithered through the chamber. "So… the blood calls to me at last."

A shadow stirred beside him—Mu Zhang's second, cloaked in black. "Shall I prepare the ritual, my lord?"

Ba Zi's eyes gleamed like molten gold. "Yes. Let the city burn its sins clean. When the ashes settle, all shall kneel to the fire that purifies."

And as thunder cracked across the northern skies, the first drops of rain began to fall—turning to steam before they touched the earth.

The Blood Path had risen. And the city of Crescent Moon would soon drown in its light.

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