The sky was painted in hues of crimson and black, thick smoke rising from the burning village as the monstrous form of Po Haui—the great dragon of destruction—coiled through the air, its scales glinting in the firelight. The beast roared, shaking the earth beneath them, its golden eyes reflecting nothing but ruin. Houses crumbled, and terrified screams filled the night.

Long Mu gritted his teeth, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as he and Chan sprinted through the debris-littered streets, guiding Princess Yumei toward what little safety remained. Her silk robes were stained with ash, her breath ragged as she struggled to keep up.

“We’re almost there,” Chan urged, his usual calm wavering as the flames encircled them.

But before they could take another step, fire erupted in front of them, blocking their escape. The heat licked at their skin, sweat beading down their faces as they turned back—only to find the path behind them cut off by another wall of flames.

Long Mu cursed under his breath. “We’re trapped.”

Chan scanned their surroundings, eyes darting for any possible exit, but there was none. The dragon's fiery wrath had sealed them in.

Princess Yumei, her heart pounding, clasped her hands together, whispering a name under her breath. “help” Her voice trembled as she called louder, desperation clinging to every syllable. “anyone?!”

For a moment, the fire crackled, the chaos of the village’s destruction drowning out her plea.

Then, the flames flickered unnaturally.

A chilling wind swept through the inferno, parting it like a curtain. And from the shadows, a figure emerged—a tall, solemn presence with silver strands of hair cascading over his dark robes, his expression unreadable.

Jingshu.

He spoke no words, for he never needed to. His presence alone was answer enough. Sent by Yumei’s elder sister,

a silent force of power and precision. With a mere flick of his wrist, the flames recoiled as if in fear, the air itself bending to his command.

The path was clear.

"Go," was all he uttered