“My Peaceful Life With the Heroine I Once Fought”

Chapter 12: The Black Phoenix Moves

It began with smoke—thin, distant, rising beyond the western ridge.

Lan Yueran spotted it first while tending herbs behind the house. The wind carried a scent she hadn't smelled in years: scorched cedar and alchemical salt.

She rushed into the courtyard, finding Yu Zhen stacking firewood.

"They're here," she said.

He didn't ask who. He simply looked west and nodded.

---

By midday, scouts had confirmed what they feared: a small village two hills away had burned. Survivors spoke of masked figures in crimson armor, moving with military discipline but bearing no official banners.

One witness whispered the name Black Phoenix Sect.

Yu Zhen sat on the floor of his meditation chamber, the wooden sword across his knees.

He hadn't heard that name in nearly ten years.

Once, the Black Phoenix Sect had been a legend. Not a group, but a ghost story—an elite battalion that operated outside any empire's authority. Rael had helped dissolve them personally, after a campaign that cost the lives of thousands.

"They shouldn't exist anymore," he said quietly.

Lan Yueran entered, placing a sealed envelope on the mat before him.

"This came by hawk," she said.

He opened it. Inside was a single piece of parchment:

> "You unmade us once.

Now we return, remade.

Our wings are fire.

Our talons, vengeance.

Come, Rael—let us burn together again."

There was no signature. But the paper itself reeked of Black Phoenix alchemy—blood ash, oil, crushed obsidian.

Yu Zhen stood. "We don't wait this time."

---

He left that afternoon, alone, despite Lan Yueran's protests.

"You can't face them without knowing who's leading them now," she argued.

"I'll find out," he said.

"But if it's him…"

"Then I end it."

He kissed her forehead before he left. She watched him disappear down the path with a tightness in her chest she couldn't shake.

---

He arrived at the ruins of the burned village just before dusk.

Ash covered everything. The air still shimmered with heat. Yu Zhen walked past collapsed beams and broken pottery, eyes narrowed.

No corpses.

That was strange.

"Looking for ghosts?"

The voice came from the scorched bell tower—half-standing.

Yu Zhen turned.

A man stood atop the rubble, dressed in fine black robes trimmed with red. His face was uncovered, his eyes sharp and golden, like a falcon's. A black phoenix sigil glittered on the collar of his robe.

But Yu Zhen recognized the face long before he saw the mark.

"Cai Juren," he said flatly.

The man smiled. "You remember me, then. I'm touched."

"You died at Mount Sanri."

Juren laughed. "No, Rael. I changed. Just like you did."

Yu Zhen's grip tightened on his sword. "You betrayed us. You led our allies into a trap."

"I freed them. From your lies. From your hope."

Yu Zhen stepped closer. "So you lead the Black Phoenix now?"

"I rebuilt it. Not as soldiers. Not as assassins. But as fire given form. We don't serve empires anymore. We are the storm. We are the reckoning."

Yu Zhen's voice was ice. "You're a madman."

"No," Juren said. "I'm your reflection."

They stood in silence for a long moment.

Then Juren tossed something toward him. Yu Zhen caught it: a ring. Old, scorched, but still intact.

It had belonged to their former commander. The man both of them had once followed—before Juren betrayed him.

"I killed him," Juren said casually. "He begged."

Yu Zhen's heart surged, but his face remained still. "Why call me here?"

"To offer you a choice," Juren said. "Join us. Reclaim your legend. We'll burn this world clean—start anew. You can be Rael again."

Yu Zhen looked at the ring, then dropped it into the ash.

"I'm not Rael. Not anymore."

Juren's smile vanished. "Then you'll die as Yu Zhen."

---

The fight came fast.

Juren's hand flashed, releasing three razor-black feathers laced with blood qi. Yu Zhen dodged left, spinning low, and brought the wooden sword up to deflect a fourth that came from behind—he hadn't even seen it thrown.

Juren descended, blade in hand—black, curved, vibrating with heat. Yu Zhen blocked the slash with the wooden sword. Sparks flew. The wood didn't break.

Juren growled. "Still using that toy?"

Yu Zhen didn't answer. He moved like a ghost, feet silent on ash, swinging low. Juren parried, then lashed out with a wave of dark flame. Yu Zhen leapt over it, landed behind him, and struck.

Wood met flesh.

Juren staggered, a red line across his side. He turned, breathing hard. "Still sharp, old friend."

Yu Zhen's expression didn't change. "You never were."

Juren's eyes narrowed. He stepped back, raising a black talisman. "Then let me show you what I've become."

He slammed the talisman to the ground.

A wave of dark qi erupted outward—blinding, choking, oppressive.

When the smoke cleared, Juren was gone.

Yu Zhen stood alone among the ashes, wounded, but upright.

He stared at the ring still lying in the dirt, untouched by flame.

Then he turned and walked away.

---

Back in Jingyang, Lan Yueran waited near the northern hill, her blade unsheathed. She felt the shift in air just as Yu Zhen appeared on the path—limping, but alive.

She rushed forward, catching him.

"You're bleeding."

"He got in one good strike."

"Did you kill him?"

Yu Zhen shook his head. "No. He ran."

Lan Yueran looked toward the western sky. "Then this isn't over."

"No," Yu Zhen said. "It's only begun."

---

That night, Yu Zhen didn't sleep.

He sat in the garden under the moonlight, watching the wind stir the trees. Yu Hao crept out quietly and sat beside him.

"You look tired, Brother."

Yu Zhen smiled faintly. "A little."

"Did you protect the village again?"

"I tried."

Yu Hao leaned against him. "I'll get stronger too. I promise."

Yu Zhen put an arm around him. "I know you will."

They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the night.

---

Far away, Cai Juren stood before a circle of crimson-clad followers deep inside a black temple.

He raised a hand.

"This was just the beginning," he said. "He's still weak. Still clinging to a name that's already buried."

The cultists knelt before him, chanting in low tones.

"We will burn Jingyang," Juren promised. "And from its ashes… he will rise again. As one of us. Or not at all."