Near the top of the Kunlun Goddess Peak, in He Yong''s residence, the sect master sat in the darkness of his living room, warily peering through a window. Dark bags formed over the course of restless nights weighed down his tired eyes. His hands held his massive saber at all times. His head bobbed up and down, sleep threatening to cut his vigil short.


    Loose footsteps from the hall jolted He Yong wide awake. He drew half of his weapon from its sheath. The light of a candle poured into the room, revealing a tall young man with a dark braid.


    "Uncle, you''re still awake?" Zhu Da asked.


    He Yong sheathed his blade. His fingers rubbed his weary eyes.


    "What time is it?" He asked.


    "The sun will be up any minute now." The young man replied.


    "So it''s early. Why aren''t you asleep?"


    "Because I just knew I''d find you here again. You''re beginning to worry me, uncle. You really haven''t slept at all today? Again?"


    "Don''t worry about me, kid." He Yong stood up from his seat and stretched his limbs. "Well, since it''s almost morning, let''s get us some breakfast."


    They went over to the dining room and fixed themselves up a hefty meal of rice and meat. The saber remained by the table.


    "Uncle, you should take better care of yourself." Zhu Da said. "I understand that the enemies might come at any moment, but you don''t need to go this far."


    He Yong ate his meal in silence.


    Zhu Da continued. "There''s only one way up and down this mountain, and every inch of it is crawling with your disciples. The other elders have their subordinates working overtime to keep you safe. Even if danger comes, we''ll know long before it steps foot in our halls."


    He Yong shook his head and blinked his eyes, trying to shake off his fatigue.


    "You''re too naive." He suddenly said.


    Zhu Da shrugged, frustrated. "You keep saying that, but you won''t explain what you mean."


    The young man flinched beneath his uncle''s heavy-lidded stare. "Why don''t you do a little thinking with that iron head of yours? When I took that boy hostage, why do you think I sent you off to live with my disciple?"


    "Is it because I acted friendly with that Bai Guo?" Zhu Da guessed.


    He Yong clicked his tongue. "You think you''d even be here if I figured you for one to choose a buddy over family? It''s because it was dangerous. Our association is still not public, so I distanced myself to minimize the risk to you."


    Zhu Da shook his head. "You didn''t need to coddle me like that, uncle. I''m not scared."


    "You should be." He Yong said. "Even her kid defeated you, so what hope do you have against the master? You might have been the strongest back at your village, but you won''t last long in the jianghu with a mindset like that. You need to learn when to keep your head low, and when to get out of dodge."


    As Zhu Da pondered his uncle''s words, the man spoke again. "And to make an easy example, this is the exact kind of situation that you''re supposed to flee from."


    "...What do you mean, uncle?"


    "Soon after the kid had escaped, I learned that Liao Lan had been trounced and humiliated by his master a few days before. Though that Liao Lan may be a woman, when it comes to martial arts, our skills have always been neck and neck." He Yong explained. "I don''t stand a chance against that kid''s master."


    Zhu Da swallowed heavily. "But if she tries to go up against the entire sect, she''ll still perish."


    He Yong snorted. "You''re too naive! In the current age, the gap between the strong and the mediocre has never been wider. The field of martial arts continues to advance, but only a select few, those with both the talent and the means, get to reap the full extent of those benefits. You used to live out in the sticks before I found you, so maybe you''ve never heard, or maybe you''ve never believed. But those armies of old that marched in tidy formations stopped seeing use because a lone master could turn them into a field of corpses. Numbers have long ago been rendered meaningless."


    "Armies are one thing, but you and the elders are another." Zhu Da protested. "You''re no mere footpads. Each one of you is a master famed all over the world!"


    "It remains to be seen how our council would fare in outright war. But that alone does not even constitute the issue here. Since I acted without the approval of the elders, they cut me off from the rest of the sect so that all backlash would rain upon me alone."


    The young man was shocked. "But they lent us their men."


    "You foolish kid. You really have no clue." He Yong chuckled. "Those guards they have outside, they''re not keeping us safe. They''re keeping us put. They''re waiting for that woman to arrive so that they can present her with my head."


    Zhu Da''s ruddy complexion went pale. His appetite had been long gone. "Why didn''t you tell me any of this earlier?"


    "What good would that do? Now that you do know, what are you going to do? I merely saved you a few nights of sleep." He Yong said. "And if you''re thinking you could have ran away, well, don''t tell me you''ve forgotten who it was that brought you back here in the first place."


    "It was elder Tan Huan...!" Zhu Da''s fist slammed into the table. "Those bastards want to condemn your entire bloodline! All this just to placate some outsider?! Cowardly vermin!"


    While his nephew raged, He Yong seemed to have accepted his fate long ago. He patiently resumed his meal.


    "It really is a shame." He said. "If I hadn''t dragged you into this tournament, if I hadn''t let them glimpse your talent, with our relation being as distant as it is, they might have let you off."


    "It''s not that I''m scared of facing death with you, uncle." Zhu Da exclaimed. "It is the trickery that infuriates me! I never had a thought of running."


    He Yong shook his head. "The only hope left for us is that the woman decides not to pursue vengeance. Who knows, maybe that friend of yours will talk his master out of it."


    But even Zhu Da wasn''t fooled by his uncle''s words. His eyes, too, began to wander towards the locked window. Tension filled the air. He Yong stood up and wandered over to open a small gap. Zhu Da attempted to peer through as well. Uncle and nephew, both identical in height, lumbered around the opening. Though the sun was yet to be seen, the oppressive darkness was already lifting.


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    Zhu Da stepped away, seemingly content with the tranquility he had witnessed. But to his surprise, his uncle remained where he was.


    "Something''s not right." He Yong said. "Their patrols have gotten sparse."


    "Change of shifts?" Zhu Da suggested.


    But the sect master seemed unconvinced. He stared for a little longer before shuttering the window.


    He Yong approached his nephew and set a hand upon his shoulder. "You need to get out of here. Leave through the back."


    "You really think they''re here?" Zhu Da asked. When his uncle glared at him, he returned his displeasure with steely conviction. "I won''t run. I''ll get my saber and fight with you."


    "Kid, I won''t be doing anything so heroic." He Yong''s reply shocked the young man. "I''ll grovel at her feet until she takes pity on me. And if I still can''t convince her to stay her hand, I''ll at least beg for my family''s life. What good can you do here? Just run."


    "Uncle..." Zhu Da clenched his fists. "There''s nowhere for me to run regardless. The disciples are all over the mountain, like you said."


    "Don''t you get it? They''ve cleared her a path. You might be able to escape now. But even if they do catch you, if I make peace with her one way or another, there will be no need to sacrifice you."


    He Yong shoved his nephew. "Go. Now!"


    The young man wavered, but could not disobey. When he was gone, He Yong returned to his seat. He drank his last cup of tea and waited. He ran his fingers along his sheathed saber. Though he had little use for the weapon, its curve helped soothe his nerves.


    The white ghost arrived in the dining hall as though swept in by a gust of wind. He Yong stood up and stared at her bruised face. He wondered for a moment what could have brought her to such a state. Though her expression appeared composed at a glance, a fiery wrath burned in her golden eyes. A tense moment passed between them.


    He Yong saw his opportunity within this lull. The sect master fell to his knees, his saber dropped beside him.


    "This unworthy one begs for his life!" He Yong intoned, his head pressing against the floor.


    The hall was silent once more. He heard his golden haired executioner draw a shuddered breath.


    "You remain alive solely due to my father''s last will." Her voice was strained, as though she could barely contain herself. "Take your saber and come at me with your strongest blow. You have one chance to kill me and save yourself."


    "Please, senior!" He Yong bellowed. "I know I have erred. I am willing to go to any lengths to make amends!"


    "Pick it up." Her order was barely more audible than a whisper, but it was riddled with urgency.


    In that moment, He Yong knew that it was over. Her patience was hanging by a thread. Slowly, he raised his head. He sprang into action. One moment he was kowtowing, the next he was already bounding halfway across the room, bare steel in hands. His great swing stirred up the air.


    Bai Guo''s master lifted her knee and slammed down with her elbow. The saber was wedged between them, but He Yong''s charge carried momentum that was outright suicidal. The sect master gritted his teeth as his hulking body tried to force the weapon past her limbs. She simply could not stop his advance. Between their two opposing forces, it was steel that yielded before flesh. The saber split in two, each warrior left with a useless half.


    Blood seeped past He Yong''s lips, but his charge continued. As he made to ram his broad shoulder into the woman, she retaliated with a palm strike. He Yong''s chest caved in. He was sent crashing back into a wall. Only by his incredible constitution had he still managed to remain alive.


    "The Asura''s Palm..." He Yong sputtered. "But how? Who are you?"


    The woman discarded her half of his weapon and began to approach. His end drew near.


    Suddenly, He Yong noticed something behind her. Zhu Da rushed out, wielding a large saber of his own. The white robed woman tilted her body. The young man''s swing whiffed, not reaching even a single hair on her head. She struck at him with the back of her hand, and with a crack, Zhu Da was sent flying through the dining table. Blood poured out of his smashed head. He Yong knew immediately that the boy was dead. The hints of resolve that previously gleamed in his eyes were now gone; he resigned himself to despair.


    The golden eyes lingered on the young man''s corpse. Her impassive rage gave way to recognition as she examined his face. When she turned her gaze upon her bloody hand, her composure flickered. Her fingers grasped at her face; she searched for something that was not there. Her touch turned more and more frantic, smearing blood across her features. Her body shook with agitation.


    Her frenzy finally erupted with a blood-curling shriek. The white robed woman picked up what remained of He Yong''s saber. She cut and cut until the man''s flesh had been reduced to ribbons.


    By then, the servants were awake. They arrived to witness the grisly scene. Terror nailed their feet to the floor, and they could do nothing but watch. The golden haired demon had finally ceased slashing at their long dead master.


    Her yellow eyes looked over to them.


    ...


    Bai Guo obediently sat in the snow, waiting for his master. His brief solitude had filled him with dread. He did not enjoy being left with his own thoughts. Despite everything, he yearned for his master''s swift return. Her bruised figure hadn''t looked as impervious as usual. It made him worry for her well-being.


    Soon, the Golden Witch was back. Bai Guo''s heart nearly leaped to his throat at the sight of her.


    It was hard to find a single trace of white in her blood soaked robe. Her hands, her face, and even her golden hair had all been smeared with red. She reeked of gore. Her attire was so heavy with it that it no longer swayed in the cold wind.


    But despite it all, beneath the orange sky, she beamed with a smile like the sun itself.


    "Let''s go, disciple."


    ...