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Chapter-46

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✦𝓑𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓭𝓸 𝓘 𝓭𝓸 𝓲𝓽?





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Huan leaned over the console, his gaze glued to the flickering footage from Katsu, the surveillance android circling high above the battlefield. The scene below was pure mayhem—students battling against hordes of jiāngshī, their movements frantic and uneven. Blasts of qi lit up the darkened landscape, but Huan's focus remained solely on one figure moving with precision amidst the turmoil.

Akira

Katsu's camera zoomed in just enough to show Akira lunging at a Penghou bearing down on Zixin. Huan gritted his teeth, his chest tightening as Akira swung his katana in a flawless arc toward the creature's nape.

Then, with a sharp clang, the katana shattered.

Huan's breath caught as he watched Akira freeze, his shoulders stiff and his posture unsteady. The way his entire body tensed told him everything.

"No, no, no..." Huan whispered under his breath, his nails digging into the edge of the desk.

"What the hell's going on here?"

Huan jerked upright as Fujisawa Akimitsu, Akira's uncle, stormed into the room. The man's imposing presence filled the space as his sharp grey eyes scanned the monitor.

He leaned behind Huan of all people, leaning closer as Akira's figure darted back into view just standing there "Whose dumb kid is—wait a second." Akimitsu face shifted from confusion to exasperation. "Oh! That's my dumb kid!" He screeched, immediately turning on his heels, darting out of the room. "Oni-Chan! Your kid is about to die!"

YanMing sighed, "I will be back!"

Huan didn't take his eyes off the monitor. He barely heard YanMing muttering under his breath, nor the alarm blaring overhead. His heart stopped entirely when the ground trembled violently on the feed, splitting the clearing in two. Akira stumbled as the chasm widened between him and the Penghou.

Then Zixin shoved him.

Huan stood frozen as the footage showed Akira tumbling backward into the dark crevice. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the console, helpless fury bubbling inside him.

"Zixin..." Huan's voice was low, trembling with barely suppressed rage.

Justin's sharp command snapped him out of his thoughts. "Evacuate now! Yin creatures have breached the building. Move it!"

But Huan had no intention of leaving—not without Akira. He grabbed the tablet, Akira's spare katana or well his uncle's katana, and Woliu's case. Every movement felt stiff, masking the storm of anger and worry raging in his chest. For a moment he thought of asking for help from the seniors there, perhaps Akira's uncle, but there was no time. 

Another tremor shook the building as the lights flickered. A guttural growl echoed through the halls, and Huan turned just in time to see the shadow of a yin creature slither into view.

"Perfect," Huan muttered, his jaw tightening as he slipped into a side passage. He needed a distraction to get out of here, and this creature was about to provide one.

He sprinted through the dimly lit halls of the base, the tablet clutched tightly in one hand. Every turn brought the fear that someone—Tayla or Ella—might notice his absence. If they realize I'm gone, it's over before I can even reach him.

At last, he burst through the back exit, the stark light momentarily blinding him. The courtyard lay ahead, but it was far from empty. Jiangshi littered the area, their twisted forms twitching unnaturally as they prowled and hissed. Some skittered over walls, others crouched low, waiting for prey.

Huan gritted his teeth and reached for Wollu's case. No time to hesitate

"Alright, Woliu," he muttered under his breath, unsheathing the sword. As soon as it was free, Woliu sprang to life, its blade shimmering with goldes and blues. The sword darted ahead, cutting through the jiàngshi. Each strike was quick and decisive, leaving a trail of ashe and fragmented bodies in its wake

Huan allawed himself a fleeting moment of relief, "Guess it's good thing you've got a mind of your own."

The case was to bulky to carry he would have to leave it behind. He couldn't afford to carry it any longer. After scanning for a safe spot, he stashed it in the shadow of the wall, ensuring it was well hidden. Strapping Woliu's sheath securely on his back, he reached into the case and pulled out the hairpin—gleaming ratic of a past be despised

His lips pressed into a thin line as he shoved the hairpin into his pocket. Why am I even bringing this?

A feral roar shattered his thoughts. Turning, he saw an Oni charging towards him. The ground trembled with each step it took, its crimson ayes locked onto Huan

Huan acted on instinct, raising Woliu's case as the Oni swung its massive claws. The impact jarred him, the force reverberating up his arms, but he twisted his body to deflect the blow

"Woliu" he shouted, and the sword was by his side in an instant, slicing cleanly through the Oni's outstretched arm, it howled in rage, stumbling back as thick, black ichor sprayed across the ground.

Without wasting another second, Huan stepped onto Woliu, the blade hovering steadily beneath his feet. He steadied himself glancing at the tablet in his hand.

Katsu's camera still captured Akira's location, but the signal flickered aminously. The chasm Akira had fallen into was visible on the map, a jagged scar splitting the terrain.

Huan's stomach twisted at the sight of Akira's faint, stationary signal. His fingers tightened around the tablet.

"Hold on, Akira," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched. "I'm coming."

Woliu shot into the air, carrying him above the chaos. Below, the courtyard and surrounding areas were in utter disarray. Yin creatures prowled every corner, their grotesque farms moving in unrelenting waves. The sunlight, now low and slanting, did nothing to hinder their advance.

Huan didn't look back, His eyes were fixed ahead, his only focus on the tablet in his hand and the boy he needed to save.

The flight was far from smooth. Huan gritted his teeth as Woliu darted between the gnarled branches of dead trees. Yin creatures leapt from the shadows, their claws swiping at him as he passed. Huan twisted just in time, narrowly dodging its attack, the creature plummeting back into the forest below.

The tablet in his hand vibrated, signaling the chasm's location ahead. He tightened his grip on Woliu's sheath, his heart pounding as he guided her into a steep descent. The earth yawned open before him, a jagged scar in the land, its depths shrouded in shadows.

As they approached, Huan braced himself. The moment Woliu dove into the crevice, the air grew colder, heavier. The darkness was oppressive, and the faint glow of golden qi from Woliu was the only light guiding his way.

The walls of the chasm were rough and uneven, and one sharp turn forced Huan to twist his body. His wrist slammed against the jagged rock with a sickening thud. Pain shot through his arm, but he grit his teeth and pressed on.

Finally, Woliu slowed, her glow illuminating the rocky floor below. Katsu swooped down from above, the small android's lights scanning the area. Huan slid off Woliu, clutching his sore wrist as he began searching the uneven ground.

"Akira!" he called, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

Katsu's lights focused on a figure slumped against a rocky outcrop. Huan's chest tightened. It was Akira.

Huan rushed over, his knees scraping against the rough terrain as he dropped beside him. Akira's face was pale, his breathing shallow, and his side was soaked with blood.

"Akira, come on," Huan whispered, panic creeping into his voice. He ran his hands over Akira's uniform, searching for supplies. His fingers brushed against a small vial tucked into Akira's nagagi.

"Thank heavens," Huan muttered, pulling out the ointment.

With trembling hands, he stripped away Akira's outer layers, exposing the nasty wound on his side. The sight of it made Huan's stomach churn. The cut was deep, and the surrounding skin was blackened with an unnatural hue.

"Yin poisoning," Huan realized, his voice barely a whisper.

He worked quickly, applying the ointment and bandaging the wound as tightly as he could. Akira stirred faintly, his lips moving, but no sound came out.

"Stay with me," Huan urged, his voice firm.

But as he leaned closer, he felt it—the cold, oppressive energy radiating from Akira's body. The poisoning was worse than he thought. Huan's mind raced. He had learned about qi transfers before, but the only method he truly understood...

He swallowed hard, his face heating as the realization struck him. This is for his survival. That's all.

Leaning closer, he took a steadying breath, his heart thundering in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he murmured before pressing his lips to Akira's.

A golden warmth spread from Huan's core, flowing through the meridians as his qi transferred to Akira. The oppressive cold receded slightly, but the strain on Huan's body was immediate. He poured more of his energy into the transfer, willing Akira's body to fight back against the poisoning.

Finally, Akira stirred beneath him, a faint color returning to his cheeks. Huan pulled back, his own breathing labored.

"You're going to be okay," Huan whispered, his voice thick with relief. "You have to be."

He let out another shaky breath, his body trembling as the adrenaline began to wear off. He shifted, carefully lifting Akira's head and resting it on his lap. His fingers instinctively combed through Akira's long black hair, the strands soft despite the grime and blood marring them.

"You idiot," Huan muttered under his breath, his voice wavering. "Why did you have to save that drat?"

He swallowed hard, their current situation pressing on his chest. Akira's pale face, his stillness, it all made Huan's gut twist painfully. Akira wasn't just anyone—he was... different.

No, special.

Huan's hand faltered in its motion, his mind racing. Was it because Akira knows about his past? Or was it the warmth Akira exuded, the kind that pulled Huan in without him even realizing it?

Or was it because, despite everything, Huan had grown to like him?

The thought made his chest tighten further, frustration and something else—something raw and unnameable.

Is this what Marcus meant? Huan thought bitterly, recalling his friend's words about love. About the pain of losing someone you love before you could ever truly hold them close.

Huan let out a sharp exhale, his fingers gripping Akira's hair just a little tighter. "I hate this," he muttered. "I hate that you make me feel this way."

He glanced at Akira's face again, the faint rise and fall of his chest offering a sliver of reassurance. Huan's breath hitched as another thought surfaced, unbidden but not unwelcome. It had felt good to kill his mother. And his stepfather. No, it had felt freeing.

The intoxicating rush of it, the sense of reclaiming something that had been stolen from him—it all came rushing back. His chest heaved, his heart pounding as he held Akira closer.

Could he feel that again? The thought sent a shiver through him, a dangerous feeling of anger and desire coursing through his veins.

"I won't lose you," he whispered, his voice trembling but firm. His thumb brushed against Akira's cheek, his resolve hardening. "Not to them. Not to anyone."

Huan's gaze drifted back to the darkness of the chasm, his mind already forming plans, dangerous ones, but plans nonetheless.

The sight of Akira, battered and broken, ignited something deep within him something he had baried for years under layers of guilt and necessity. A slow—burning hatred began to rise, hotter and more Intoxicating than anything he'd felt before. He should have been angry at the situation, at the disaster that had erupted, but his anger, his thoughts, kept circling back to one thing.

The Chen Clan

Their name alone was a curse, a reminder of everything twisted and vile. They were parasites, each one a self-proclaimed god walking the earth as if they owned it. Zixin's sneering face flashed in his mind, the arrogant face as he shaved Akira into the chasm, like litter, scarelessly discarded.

And for what? Ego? Pride?

They deserve worse than death.

Huan's breathing quickened, his teeth grinding together. He could almost see them now their smug faces, their poisoned smiles, He could hear their voices, dripping with cruelty. They were nothing but a disease, festering and spreading their rot through families, through generations

And the cure was so simple.

Paint the ground with their blood.

The thought whispered, soft and seductive, colling around his mind like a serpent. He let it linger, let it fester, and grow sharper with every heartbeat. The world would be better without them, peaceful, freer. At least to him.

One by one, he imagined it.

Zixin would be the first. Huan could see the boy's face contorted in feat, his mouth opening to spit some venomous remark, but no words would come. Not with Woliu stabbed through his throat. He'd watch the light drain from Zixin's eyes just like his mother's, and feel that rush of control again,

But it wouldn't stop there.

The others would follow. Every Chen who bore the name, who carried the blood, who upheld their filthy legacy, He'd strip them of their power, their arrogance, their very existence.

He could already see the carnage—red staining the pristine halls of their estates, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood. He would leave their sprawling mansions in ruin, the walls scrawled with their failure, their insignia burned to ashes.

They'd scream, of course. Plead for mercy

But mercy was for the weak, for those who deserved it.

And the Chens? They had earned only his blade.

Huan's lips curled into a bitter smile, the his rage suffocating but exhilarating.

"Could I really do it?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart

He would do it. For Nian. For himself

He glanced down at Akira's pale face, his fingers brushing against this cheek, Akira was too kind, to forgiving. He'd never condone such violence, even against those who had wronged him

But Akira didn't need to know.

Huan would shoulder the weight of his actions, just as he had in the past. And if it meant severing the threads of his tainted heritage, he would do so gladly.

With every cut, every scream, every drop of blood spilled, Huan would carve out his freedom with his sword.

And when the last Chen fell, choking on their own arrogance, he would finally feel at peace.

But how do I do it?



















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