The air was thick with fear.
Xiao Huo, once so arrogant, dropped to his knees before Qian Yu with a thud. Dust curled around his trembling frame like smoke fleeing a fire.
"Please—don't kill me! I was wrong, I know I was wrong!" he stammered, his voice cracking with desperation.
Qian Yu's expression remained unmoved, his calm gaze drifting past Xiao Huo toward the others—Xiao Chenyu and his followers stood frozen, caught between pride and terror.
Xiao Huo turned his head sharply toward them and barked, "Kneel! All of you—kneel now!"
And they did. One by one, pride was shed like old skin. A ripple of movement passed through the courtyard as everyone dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the cold, unforgiving ground.
"Qian Yu, we admit our mistakes! Spare us and we'll do anything you say!"
"My family's wealthy," another pleaded, sweat glistening on his brow. "We can pay you, anything you want—just don't kill me!"
"My father's the City Lord of Nuoding!" someone else cried. "He'll give you land, titles, power—whatever you ask for, it's yours!"
Qian Yu stood still, shadows pooling at his feet in the fading light. There was no malice in his eyes, only a strange stillness that made the silence unbearable.
He turned his gaze back to Xiao Huo, voice soft but cutting.
"Tell me... which hand did you use to strike Xiao Wu?"
Xiao Huo's face went pale. "I—I didn't mean to! Please, spare me! I'll give you anything—just don't—don't—"
He didn't finish.
Qian Yu's eyes flashed with icy precision.
"If you won't answer, I'll just take both."
A pair of wind blades howled through the air—silent one moment, shrieking the next.
Schlikk—Schlak!
Twin arcs of steel-sharp wind severed Xiao Huo's arms at the elbows. Blood sprayed like red ink against the stone floor.
"AAAGGHHH!" Xiao Huo screamed, collapsing into a writhing heap of agony. His severed limbs thudded onto the ground, twitching like fish out of water.
Qian Yu's voice was quiet, colder than the night air.
"That's your punishment. Next time, I won't stop at the arms. If your family dares to provoke me again… the name 'Xiao' will be erased from this world."
Xiao Huo howled, convulsing as he clutched at the bloody stumps. His followers dragged him away, still wailing in pain.
Only then did the tension begin to lift, like fog burning off in morning light.
Someone whispered, "Qian Yu… he's terrifyingly strong…"
"Too strong…"
"Who is he, really? He's not normal."
"Is he even human… or a demon in disguise?"
Their voices trembled with awe and dread. Even now, as he stood quietly in the clearing, Qian Yu's presence loomed like a storm waiting to strike again.
Without a word, he walked to Xiao Wu. Her eyes, wide and vulnerable, met his.
He gently placed a hand atop her head.
"Come on, little one. Let's go."
She nodded eagerly, slipping her hand into his. The fear in her chest melted away, replaced by a warmth she hadn't felt in ages.
Not in the Star Dou Forest.
Not in ten thousand years.
In that forest, from the moment she could remember, it had been killed or been killed. Danger wasn't a visitor—it was a constant companion. Even the strongest beasts weren't safe. Strength only bought time. Never peace.
But this—this was different.
With Qian Yu, she didn't need to keep her guard up. She didn't need to worry about enemies hiding in the dark. For the first time in her long, weary life…
She felt safe.
With him beside her, she could just live.
That night, the moon spilled silver across the courtyard like silk unraveling from heaven. Stars hung lazily above, twinkling as if whispering secrets only the brave could hear.
Xiao Wu had long since fallen asleep, curled in a blanket of peace. Qian Yu stepped outside, breathing in the quiet of the night. His footsteps barely made a sound.
He was about to begin his cultivation when he felt it—a sudden, heavy presence, tearing toward him through the sky like a silent missile.
Powerful.
A Titled Douluo.
Qian Yu didn't flinch. His soul power shifted, his Void Wings unfurling behind him in a shimmer of spectral light. If it came to a fight, he'd use his illusion technique to disorient the attacker, then vanish into the wind.
But the attack never came.
A figure dropped from the sky, landing smoothly before him. The man—a gray-haired elder with eyes sharp as blades—knelt with one knee to the ground.
"My lord," he said with reverent clarity, "I am Xuan Yi, the Tenth Enforcer of the Spirit Hall. The Grand Priest has sent me to serve you."
He presented a token—a badge etched with the seal of Spirit Hall's highest order.
Qian Yu examined him calmly, his spiritual power brushing against Xuan Yi's mind like a tidal wave.
The elder staggered slightly, shocked. Though this boy appeared no older than a teenager, his soul force was dozens of times stronger than his own.
He really is… the ancestral figure of Spirit Hall.
Still kneeling, Xuan Yi looked up. Qian Yu gave a slight nod.
He hadn't expected this level of foresight from Qian Daoliu. To send him a bodyguard? Not necessary—but certainly convenient.
"I don't need constant protection," Qian Yu said. "But having a Titled Douluo in the shadows will make some things easier."
Then, turning his gaze sharp as glass: "You're Rank 91, correct?"
Xuan Yi's breath caught.
The boy saw through him with surgical clarity.
"Yes, my lord. I just broke through last year."
Qian Yu nodded again. "Stay hidden. When I need you, I'll call."
"As you command," Xuan Yi replied. With a faint shimmer, his body dissolved into shadow, vanishing into the night.
Nuoding City.
Inside the City Lord's manor, all was quiet—until chaos burst through the front gates.
"Lord! Lord! Something's happened to the Young Master!"
A servant rushed in, panting, eyes wild with panic. The man seated in the hall opened one eye, annoyed.
Xiao Zhantian—the City Lord. A Soul King of rank 56. Broad-chested and grim-eyed, he radiated the strength of someone used to getting his way.
"What now?" he grumbled. "That little bastard killed someone again. Always stirring up trouble—"
"No, sir! It's not that—he's been injured! Badly!"
Xiao Zhantian shot to his feet just as a group of attendants rushed in, carrying a stretcher.
Xiao Huo lay upon it, blood soaking the cloth beneath him. His arms were gone. His face twisted in pain.
Xiao Chenyu trailed behind, his cheeks wet with tears. At the sight of his father, he burst into sobs.
The City Lord's face turned dark. His spirit flared—an enormous phantom wolf materializing behind him, baring its fangs to the ceiling.
"Who…" His voice thundered through the hall, shattering cups and rattling windows.
"WHO DID THIS TO MY SON?!"
And thus, a storm began to rise.
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