Feng Yun ordered Guru, the jailer, to open the cell gate. Guru hesitated—sweat beading on his brow—then obeyed with trembling hands.
From the darkness inside, a cold, mocking laugh rolled out. It slithered through the corridor, scraping at the nerves of lesser men. Even the air seemed to taste of bloodlust.
But Feng Yun stepped forward without pause, boots echoing against stone. Guru followed, legs so weak he nearly stumbled over his own fear.
Inside, shackled by iron chains at her neck and limbs, crouched a woman. Her hair spilled like fresh blood across bruised shoulders. Her eyes—two burning coals—locked onto his, hungry as a beast who'd gone too long unfed.
Feng Yun dropped into a casual crouch before her, ignoring the rank smell of damp stone and old wounds. Guru stood frozen behind him, face ghost-white.
Without looking back, Feng Yun said, calm as a whispered threat:"Wait for me outside."
"Guru fled—boots echoing like a man outrunning death itself."
Silence swallowed the cell. Only two predators remained.
This woman… Isolde Vayne.
Last daughter of the Vayne Clan. My wife's adoptive sister, if my memories serve. When she was six, her father brought my wife into that house. Sisters by name, knives by nature.
He let his eyes linger on the chains, on the cuts barely healing, on the rage coiled behind her murderous calm.
Red hair like blood. Bruises like curses. Eyes like a starving wolf.
And yet…
He could taste her aura, razor-sharp, pressing into his bones.
Mortal Warrior realm. Early stage, but still the strongest in this dying empire.
A voice, cool as steel drawn slow:
"Who are you?"
Her smile was poison-sweet."And you—still wet behind the ears—dare sit in front of me while crawling in the Mortal Path? Be grateful. I'll grant you mercy. Answer me before I crush your heart with my spiritual pressure alone."
Feng Yun's mouth curved into a ghost of a smile.
She never saw me before. Her clan kept to Emberwood. But her sister… my runaway queen…
I've scoured this world for her—mercenaries, spies, letters dipped in gold. Nothing. Not a corpse, not a rumor. She's either crossed to another plane… or she's ashes in forgotten soil.
But this one… this feral Vayne… might still know where the trail grows warm.
Feng Yun rose to his feet, gave her a mocking half-bow, and said plainly,
"I am Feng Yun. King of this crumbling kingdom—And your sister's husband."
Isolde didn't flinch. Didn't so much as blink.Instead, her lip curled in mild disgust.
"Yes, I know. That's why I haven't snapped your neck yet.And if you're here sniffing for clues about her—forget it.I don't know where she is."
In her mind, though, a scornful thought flickered:So this is the man my sister chose? A king in name. He looks more like a frightened courtier groveling before a beast.How did she stomach such weakness?
But her silent ridicule was cut short by his voice—quiet, certain, razor-sharp:
"If you think I'm weak—
You're not wrong.
But I'm not blind.
I know why you're here. I know what you plan.
Test me, Vayne. Let's see if my story earns your respect."
Isolde's eyes narrowed, amused and annoyed at once.
She exhaled through her nose—an animal's warning breath.
"Hah. Fine. Spin your tale, oh king. Entertain me.
I have no plan anyway—unless tearing your throat out counts."
Feng Yun's eyes glittered darkly. He began:
"Your clan discovered certain artifacts—priceless relics buried since the Old Wars.
The Iron Howl Clan stole them, then handed them to your Emberwood King like loyal dogs.
But your father dug too deep.
He didn't just find relics—he uncovered every hidden crime Emberwood committed:
Funding terror attacks across borders, toppling nobles, silencing rival heirs.
When he tried to expose them, they butchered him.
Your clan rose in rebellion—stood to the last drop of blood.
You alone survived because they broke you, chained you, forced you to flee.
Wounded, half-dead, you crawled here for sanctuary—
Only to find my corpse on a throne and my brother grinning at your chains.
He tried to claim you as his prize.
You gutted two of his guards.
He threw you in this hole to rot.
And here you kneel—still alive, still dangerous, still waiting."
Silence. Isolde's iron composure cracked—just a hairline fracture.
Her voice, when it came, was soft and venom-laced:
"Hmph.
So the king is a gossip.
Congratulations—you know bedtime tales.
That doesn't make you clever."
In his mind, Feng Yun scoffed.Act tough all you want. My wife told me enough about you: cold fangs outside, soft heart inside. A predator in chains… but still prey to your own rage.
Then, out loud, he said evenly—voice calm despite the killing aura pressing on his lungs:
"You're right—most of what I said is scraps of rumor.But those scars on your wrists? Not from these chains.Sword marks—jagged, desperate. You carved your own path out when you ran from them.And that flicker of killing intent just now—far too sharp for a mere Mortal Path.These chains? They're forged to shackle Awakened-tier dogs… But you're long past that, aren't you?"
He let out a quiet laugh, ignoring her glaring silence.
"Down here, the spiritual pressure chokes weaker souls. But not a Vayne monster like you."
He leaned closer, voice low, almost tender:
"So I see it clearly: you're not locked away, Isolde Vayne.You're training—nurturing that beast in your veins until the day you break these bars and feed it sweet, perfect revenge."
Isolde said nothing.Her crimson eyes closed—like a predator judging whether to strike or sleep.
Feng Yun smiled faintly, reading her silence for exactly what it was.
"We're the same, you know.The difference is, I've made peace with my ghosts.You haven't.And if you think I crawled down here to stop you—"
He didn't finish.
A sudden roar of spiritual force slammed into him—cold, feral, monstrous.He barely crossed his arms before it flung him across the cell like a leaf in a hurricane.
Iron bars rattled. Blood welled on his lip.
Feng Yun laughed through the sting, straightening himself. His eyes met hers—sharp, mocking, unshaken.
Isolde's eyes snapped open, a slit of crimson flame. Her voice crawled over his bruised pride like a blade.
"Speak again, king… and I'll rip out that clever tongue myself."
Yes… exactly what I wanted to see.She's ready to bite the heavens if I unchain her…And I'm the devil who'll give her the key.