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Yin Hanjiang doesn't feel the pain at first.
Perhaps it's the adrenaline and bloodlust of war seeping into his veins, or the same rush of stubborness and fear he's been feeling since he defied the Sect Leader's wishes to sneak into this bloody battlefield.
Perhaps it's the death qi lingering in his body that numbs the blow. Sometimes he feels as if Yin Hanjiang died at five years old, buried under a mountain of corpses, and what was left behind is nothing more than a ghost.
It doesn't matter. Ever since that time, this ghost left behind has dreamed of revenge. While he mastered a weapon that never sat right in his hand, when he looked at the moon's reflection, with every breath and every nightmare, his thirst for blood has constantly been humming in the background.
No more.
Even now, not even the spear in his gut can stop him. Yin Hanjiang gathers all the strength in his body, the meager spiritual power he's cultivated in these thirteen years and severs the throat of the enemy soldier with one clean strike, so he falls dead at his feet.
He looks down at the empty, open eyes reflecting the sky. He wonders if this is one of the men who had been there that night — but the truth is that his memory is old and blurry, and none of their faces remain. It's enough to know that he wears the same colors and fights under the same banner.
For a moment, an exhausted kind of elation fills Yin Hanjiang's heart to the brim. It's the feeling of knowing he's snatched his revenge back for himself. He's not fool enough to think that his clandestine presence today will change the tides of the battle, not when Wenren È himself is leading the troops, but for him this is the only way forward.
The debt he's accruing is heavier each day, settling like a yoke around his neck. The Sect Leader had saved him, fed him, gave him the means to grow strong. Yin Hanjiang won't let him hold his revenge over his head as well, whenever he finally comes to collect. This much, he'll snatch for himself.
His soul is determined to see this through, but when he tries to take a step, his knees buckle under him.
The next moment, agony hits.
Yin Hanjiang can't stop the choked out scream that's torn from his lips after the unforgiving metal is jarred by the impact of the fall. His hands fly to his side and are soon drenched in red. His blood spills from the wound, mixing with the enemy's in the mud, indistinguisable from one another.
Anger and hatred still pulse painfully in time with his heartbeats, but even they aren't strong enough to get his body moving.
He's so dazed that he doesn't see the danger until there's a shadow blotting the sun, and Yin Hanjiang looks up just in time to see another enemy rising a sword high over his head. He takes one hand away from his side, diving for his weapon, but they both now he won't reach it in time.
A chuckle tinged with madness raises to his lips. At the very end... it seems he's still too weak.
He raises his head, eyes wide open in defiance and mouth twisted in a feral snarl.
But the killing blow never comes.
A red cloak falls over Yin Hanjiang's stolen and ill-fitting robes. It's soft, warmed up by body heat, and the unexpected sensation is so jarring that at first Yin Hanjiang's mind can't comprehend what's happening. By the the time he's caught his breath and the world starts to make sense again, there's already a large ring of dead bodies surrounding him. An eerie sort of silence settles all around the battlefield, spreading quickly outwards from one single point of focus.
The Venerable stands proud in front of Yin Hanjiang, as stalwart as a mountain, so devastatingly beautiful he hardly seems real. His silver armor is dented in places, filthy with mud and blood but Yin Hanjiang has never seen anyone more regal. Even with his spiritual energy sealed there's still a heavy aura of command around him, something that invariably draws every eye in his direction.
Even with his spiritual energy sealed…
"… Venerable?"
Yin Hanjiang's heart lurches in his chest. From this distance there's no mistaking the cracks in the seal and the qi building with the strength of a maelstrom around them. It's still only a fraction of his Lord's power, not enough to reshape the land, but too much for any mortal man to match him. Already, the enemy soldiers are falling into a messy retreat, abandoning their fellows where they lay. Even the Venerable's allies are stepping away from him, unsure and afraid.
The Path of Slaughter is a path of continuous challenge, pitting your very existence against overwhelming odds and surviving. Yin Hanjiang had known Wenren È planned to fight as a plain human; it was the only reason he'd taken the chance to sneak into the battle today.
But as he stands now… there's no way he'll achieve a breakthrough today, not when power is exuding from every pore, ebbing and flowing as if it had a mind of his own. Wasn't his cultivation the main reason he had for fighting here? Has he truly thrown that chance away? For...
"Why... did the seal break…?"
Wenren È waves a hand dismissively, throwing his own broken weapon to the side. Utterly uncaring of property or safety, he drops to one knee and grips the shaft of the spear inside Yin Hanjiang's body with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder.
"You aren't permitted to die, Yin Hanjiang. This Venerable forbids it."
The spear hurts every inch on its way out. Yin Hanjiang welcomes it: it's the only thing that still makes sense in this upside-down reality. However this time the pain is chased away by his Lord's qi, flooding his meridians with healing energy until the bleeding trickles to a stop.
Before he try to put the confused jumble thoughts into some semblance of order there's an arm across his shoulder blades, another one below his knees and suddenly he's being lifted and pressed against a firm chest. Yin Hanjiang feels...
For the first time in his memory, even with the new hole in his gut, he doesn't feel cold.
He dares to lift his head to peek at the man carrying him out of a battle that has already come to an abrupt and unceremonious end. Through the whole process, the Sect Leader's expression hasn't changed at all. He takes Yin Hanjiang out of the battlefield and drops him at the healer's tent like he has no need to concern himself further with him, leaving him there with as little warning as he appeared.
And yet Yin Hanjiang can still see his shadow, mounting guard on the other side of the tent's entrance. If he concentrates he can still feel the Venerable's raging qi rolling with the heaviness of a summer storm far away. It curls around him, gathers in the air he breathes, pulsing with a fierce sort of protectiveness that makes Yin Hanjiang want to weep as deeply as it makes him want to smile.
What are those actions, what is this feeling if not care?
Yin Hanjiang feels like his entire existence is being rewritten. He feels like a small, lone satellite that has finally found its orbit around the sun. It doesn't matter what happens in the future, doesn't matter if his revenge is never completed, because for one moment the Venerable had shone for Yin Hanjiang alone.
On this day Yin Hanjiang makes a new vow, deep in his heart. He'll become the Venerable's sword, his most loyal subordinate. Whatever he's asked to become, any order he's given, he'll follow without hesitation.
On the following night Alkaid eclipses the sky.