“My Peaceful Life With the Heroine I Once Fought”

Chapter 15: Footsteps into Fire

The road westward was quiet.

Too quiet.

Yu Zhen walked at a steady pace, his wooden sword slung behind his back. Lan Yueran followed a few steps to his left, her eyes scanning the trees. The forest around them was thick with spring growth—leaves dense, birdsong constant, but no signs of travelers.

Which was wrong.

This was a trade road. There should have been carts, mule herders, perhaps pilgrims on their way to the hot springs near Mount Qishan. But for two days, they'd seen no one.

Just silence.

"I don't like this," Lan Yueran muttered as she kicked a rock aside. "Too still."

Yu Zhen nodded. "They cleared the path."

"For us?"

"For anyone who might see us."

A light breeze drifted through the trees. But Yu Zhen felt something colder brushing his senses. Qi—not natural, but shaped. Hidden.

"Ambush," he said.

---

The attack came with no warning.

A flick of motion—a string vibrating across the air—and dozens of feathered darts flew toward them from both sides of the road.

Yu Zhen stepped forward.

With a single sweeping motion of his wooden sword, he deflected every dart within reach. Lan Yueran spun to cover his flank, her twin daggers slashing the ones aimed at her.

Three cloaked figures dropped from the trees.

They moved in sync, their faces covered by pale grey masks, embroidered with red eyes.

The Sect of the Unseen Flame.

Lan Yueran hissed. "They still exist?"

Yu Zhen didn't answer. One attacker lunged forward, blade curved like a flame, aimed at Yu Zhen's neck.

But he wasn't fast enough.

Yu Zhen stepped sideways, dodged, and brought the hilt of his sword down hard on the man's shoulder. Bone cracked. He fell without a sound.

Another came from behind.

Lan Yueran intercepted her, their blades clashing mid-air. Sparks flew as they circled, each seeking an opening.

Yu Zhen moved forward—not rushing, but with the slow precision of a man who didn't need speed.

The third attacker turned to run.

"Don't," Yu Zhen said quietly.

The man froze.

Something in his voice—too calm, too steady—made him drop his blade.

Yu Zhen caught him by the collar and threw him to the ground.

"Talk."

The masked man didn't answer.

Lan Yueran knocked out her opponent and walked over, blood on her sleeve.

Yu Zhen crouched beside the last one.

"Who gave the order?"

"…He did," the man rasped.

"Cai Juren?"

The man shook his head. "No… someone else. From the Empire. Said you're too dangerous to leave alone."

Yu Zhen frowned.

"The Empire?"

"High Chancellor Duan."

---

Later that night, they made camp by a shallow river. A small fire burned between them, barely enough to warm tea. Yu Zhen sharpened a fishing spear while Lan Yueran cleaned her daggers.

"I thought Cai Juren was our only threat," she said. "But the Empire too?"

"I've been a ghost for too long," Yu Zhen replied. "Now I'm a rumor. And rumors make people afraid."

"They think you'll start another war."

"Or end one they're trying to start."

Lan Yueran sighed. "I miss the village."

Yu Zhen looked up.

"So do I."

They sat in silence for a long time.

Then Lan Yueran reached into her satchel and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.

She handed it to him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"An old report. One I stole from the Council vault before we left Dengwei."

He unfolded it slowly. The ink was faded, but the name at the top was unmistakable.

> Operation Emberfall – The Final Orders of General Rael Alzareth

His name.

His real name.

The report outlined his final mission before his disappearance—the one where his unit vanished, where the Phoenix Sect was born from ashes.

He read to the end, then folded the paper again.

"…They lied," he said.

Lan Yueran nodded.

"They said you destroyed the city to stop the cult. But that's not what happened, was it?"

"No," Yu Zhen said softly. "We tried to save it."

---

By the fourth day, they reached the foot of Mount Qishan.

The mountain stood like a jagged scar against the sky. Smoke drifted from its eastern face—natural, perhaps, or not. At its base sat a crumbling monastery.

"The Monks of the Ash Gate," Yu Zhen said, more to himself than to her. "I haven't seen them in over ten years."

"Do they still follow you?"

"They never followed me. They followed the Flame."

They approached the gate, its wood rotted and iron hinges rusted. No one came out. No guards. No monks.

Yu Zhen knocked once.

The sound echoed hollow.

Then, slowly, the gate creaked open.

A figure in faded robes stood in the shadows, face hidden beneath a wide straw hat.

"You returned," the monk said, voice soft as smoke. "We wondered if you ever would."

"I didn't come to lead."

"No," the monk said, stepping aside. "You came to choose."

---

Inside, the halls were cold stone, covered in old ash and prayers written on torn cloth. The air smelled of incense and blood.

Twenty monks stood in silence as Yu Zhen entered.

Not bowing. Not hostile. Just waiting.

One stepped forward.

"You are Rael."

"I was."

The monk paused. "Then what are you now?"

Yu Zhen looked at his wooden sword. At Lan Yueran. At the scars on his palms.

"I am a man who wants peace. But I will take up the sword if I must."

The monk nodded.

"Then take it."

From behind his robe, he presented a black scroll—sealed in wax with a phoenix emblem.

Yu Zhen didn't touch it.

Lan Yueran asked, "What is that?"

The monk answered, "The Phoenix is reborn. And with it, so too must be the Flame."

Yu Zhen stared at the scroll.

Then turned away.

---

That night, they slept beneath the stars, outside the monastery.

Lan Yueran whispered, "You won't open it?"

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because once I do," he said quietly, "I won't be able to go back."

---