CHAPTER 49

Too Late

LUO FAN

For three days, they had tortured me, forcing me to cooperate with them. Each day was an endless cycle of pain, mockery, and despair, but I held firm. Despite everything—the betrayal, the injustices, and even Ruan Yanjun’s reprehensible behavior toward me—I refused to betray anyone. My principles were all I had left, a fragile but unyielding anchor. My dignity was my final shield, and if I had to die defending it, so be it.

In the quiet moments between the torment, a desperate hope took root within me. If my death could prove to Ruan Yanjun that there was still goodness in this world, perhaps it would change him. Perhaps it would soften his hardened heart, pushing him to care for others, to fight for the weak rather than finding amusement in their suffering. He was an immortal—a god-like being who could change the course of this continent if only he chose to. If my death could be the spark that shifted his perspective, then I could face it with pride. My sacrifice would not be in vain.

When the leader of my captors—the one called Purple Rogue—finally gave up on coercing me, he returned to the original plan: my execution. Though they hadn’t explicitly named the person behind the order, I knew in my heart that it came from the crown prince of Kan. His obsession with eradicating me left no room for doubt.

The man with the whip came to retrieve me from my cell. “Get up,” he barked, tossing a clean set of clothes at me. “Change. The leader wants you presentable for your execution.”

Even though my body was riddled with bruises and cuts, and my qi still roiled within me from the strain of the dark core inside me, I complied. The fresh clothes felt wrong against my battered body, a mockery of the dignity I was supposed to retain. As I struggled to pull on the garments, the man uncapped a jar of ointment and began applying it to the wounds on my face. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

“Is this part of your leader’s orders?” I asked, my voice raspy.

He shook his head. “No. You don’t deserve to look like a corpse when you’re executed,” he muttered, though his tone carried a hint of pity.

“What’s your name?” I asked after a moment.

“Crow,” he replied curtly as he screwed the lid back onto the ointment.

“A mercenary name,” I said, nodding in understanding. He didn’t confirm or deny it, but the flicker of his gaze told me I was right.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice gruff as he gestured for me to follow him.

I staggered behind him, my legs weak and my balance reliant on the bamboo stick they allowed me to carry—more as a mockery of my past strength than an actual weapon. They knew I couldn’t fight in my current state.

Crow led me out of the dim corridors into the open courtyard, where Purple Rogue and his men were waiting.

Purple Rogue’s laughter echoed in the air as his eyes fell on me. “So, Priest Wei Fan still has some fight left in him, I see,” he sneered. “It would be a waste to simply behead you. No, that would lack the satisfaction of watching you struggle. As recognition of your achievements as the so-called Divine Mage, I’ll grant you a warrior’s death. You will fight until your last breath.”

He gestured to one of his men—the one with the twin knives—who stepped forward eagerly, his blades gleaming in the sunlight.

Before I could steady myself, the man with the knives lunged at me. His speed was blinding, but I had fought him once before and remembered his tactics. His initial charge was always a feint. Anticipating his real move, I turned sharply to my left just as he veered in that direction, thrusting my stick into his stomach with all the strength I could muster.

He grunted in pain and stumbled back, clutching his abdomen. My arms trembled from the effort, and my legs felt like they might give way at any moment. I could only stand my ground, unable to follow through on the advantage I had gained.

The man took a deep breath, his expression darkening as he prepared for another attack. This time, he leapt high into the air. I braced myself, guessing he would land behind me. My instincts were right again. I turned swiftly and swung upward, striking him under the chin as he descended. The blow was solid, and he choked on blood, momentarily incapacitated.

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Seizing the moment, I delivered another strike to his side, causing him to stagger. Despite his disorientation, his wild slashes with the knives forced me to remain cautious. I waited for an opening, my body screaming in protest with every movement. When the opportunity came, I struck hard beneath his ribcage, the impact driving the air out of him. He collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around him.

I stood over him, panting heavily. My vision blurred, and I swayed on my feet. I knew I couldn’t survive another fight, but the battle wasn’t over yet. Purple Rogue’s men stared at me in stunned silence, their confidence shaken.

“Finish him,” Purple Rogue ordered coldly, motioning for the man with the spear to step forward.

Before the fight could begin, my knees buckled, and I fell to the ground, coughing up blood. I could hear the sound of footsteps, but my focus wavered until a familiar voice pierced the haze.

“Sir, please stop!” A woman’s cry echoed across the courtyard.

My head shot up. “Jinjing?”

She stood at the entrance with Xiong Juan by her side, her face pale but resolute. In her hand, she clutched a heavy purse, which she threw onto the ground, letting it skid to Purple Rogue’s feet. “Take the money,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m taking him away.”

Purple Rogue laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. “Too late for that,” he said dismissively.

“Then fight me,” Xiong Juan growled, drawing his weapon and charging forward. Two mercenaries intercepted him, and a chaotic battle ensued.

Jinjing took the opportunity to run to me. She slipped my arm over her shoulders and tried to drag me away. “Let’s go,” she urged, her voice choked with urgency.

Before we could get far, a sharp cry of warning rang out. I spun instinctively, thrusting my stick at the attacker. The blow connected, sending the man stumbling back. But when I turned to check on Jinjing, my blood ran cold. The spear he had been wielding was lodged in her chest, the sharp tip protruding from her back.

“No,” I whispered, cradling Jinjing’s fragile form in my arms as I lowered her carefully to the ground.

Jinjing’s lips trembled as blood trickled from her mouth. She reached up to touch my face. “Forgive me,” she said weakly. “They told me… they only wanted… talk. They promised… not… kill you.”

“It’s alright,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I forgive you. Just hold on. Stay with me. You promised we’d get married. Don’t leave me now.”

A tear slipped from her eye and trailed down her cheek. “I’m afraid… I can… not...” Her hand fell limp, and the light in her eyes vanished, leaving only emptiness.

“No!” My cry tore through the silence like a wounded beast. I cupped her cheek, patting it gently as though I could coax her back. But her body was still. Her warmth faded by the second.

Grief consumed me, swallowing every other thought and feeling. Then, it came—a surge of energy, raw and unrelenting, erupting from within.

My dark core awakened with a ferocity I had never felt before. A torrent of power coursed through my veins, searing my meridians with pain so intense it was almost blinding. My second core flared to life, the two forces clashing violently inside me, but my grief dulled the agony. Nothing mattered except the fire in my chest, a singular, consuming hunger for vengeance.

With a guttural roar, I rose to my feet, dark energy spiraling around me in an ominous haze. I barely noticed the transformation, my body moving as though possessed. My gaze locked onto Purple Rogue, his laughter still echoing in the recesses of my mind. Fury drove my every step as I seized the bloodied knives left behind by the fallen.

I launched myself at him with reckless abandon. My strikes were wild, unrelenting, each swing powered by a force far beyond my normal capabilities. Purple Rogue’s expression shifted from amusement to shock as he struggled to defend himself. My movements were unpredictable, a storm he could not weather. His blade intercepted one of my knives, but I used the other to carve a jagged line across his hand, severing two fingers in a clean arc. They fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

His scream of agony was a balm to my grief. Without hesitation, I crushed the severed fingers beneath my boot, ensuring he could not reconnect them. Purple Rogue’s glare burned with murderous intent, but his injury rendered him incapable of wielding his sword.

“Kill him!” he roared, his command laced with desperation. His men hesitated, eyes flickering between me and their wounded leader. They had seen my power, felt the weight of the dark aura that surrounded me. Still, one stepped forward—the man who had killed Jinjing. He approached cautiously, his confidence shaken.

But my energy had waned. The aura around me flickered and faded, leaving me drained. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground, powerless. Even so, I refused to let go of Jinjing. Using the last of my strength, I crawled to her side, grasping her lifeless hand.

“Kill him now!” Purple Rogue bellowed again, his voice trembling with rage.

I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate. The tip of a spear gleamed in the dim light, aimed straight for my heart. I braced for the end, clinging to Jinjing’s hand as if it could tether me to her one last time.

Then, a blinding wave of energy swept across the battlefield, shaking the very earth beneath us. The spear never reached me. I felt the force like a tempest, fierce and unyielding, though it did not harm me. When I opened my eyes, I saw him—Ruan Yanjun. His form descended gracefully from the heavens, his robes billowing as he landed with the authority of a deity.

In an instant, he was at my side, pulling me away from Jinjing. I struggled against his grip, desperation clawing at me. “No! Don’t take me from her! Please!”

“Silence,” he commanded, his voice like steel. With a deft motion, he pressed a pressure point on my neck, and darkness overtook me.

The last thing I saw before succumbing was Jinjing, her form bathed in the fading light of dusk. I vowed, even in that final moment, that this was not the end. Not for her. Not for me. And certainly not for the ones who had taken her from me.