Whispers of the Jade Saber

Ashfall Ruins

The next leg of the journey led the party into the Ashfall Ruins—a once-sacred land where fire cultivators would come to ignite their first inner flame beneath the gaze of the sunstone obelisks.

Now, the place was a silent graveyard of cracked pillars and scorched bones. Lightning forked through the sky in silence. The air was dry as paper. Only one flame still burned—at the very center of the ruin.

"The First Flame," Tian Mian said, standing beside Lin Feng. "They say the Ashen Saber was tempered in that fire. Not made. Awakened."

Lin Feng stepped forward slowly. He could feel his saber vibrating faintly at his hip, almost like it was… humming.

But before they could reach it—

A bolt of lightning struck between them.

And a voice followed.

---

Enter: Jun Feilan, the Wandering Spear

A woman stood atop a collapsed column, wearing traveler's robes covered in dirt and spirit ink. A heavy spear rested across her shoulders, the steel old but well cared for. Her hair was tied in a messy side braid, and her boots were worn from long miles.

She didn't flare her qi.

She didn't need to.

Even from a distance, Lin Feng could sense control in her posture. A calm cultivated through combat, not doctrine.

"You trying to claim the flame?" she called down.

Liang Yue narrowed her eyes. "We're not here to steal it."

Jun Feilan raised an eyebrow. "Neither am I. But I've watched sect dogs fight over ancient flames before. So if you're here to burn the world brighter, don't mind me walking the other way."

Lin Feng smiled faintly. "What are you doing here, then?"

Feilan hopped down with casual grace.

"Looking for a place to leave my brother's ashes."

---

A Warrior's Grief

Over tea by the campfire that night, Jun Feilan told her story—not seeking pity, just speaking like a traveler passing through storms.

She was born in a minor border village. Her brother, Wei Fei, was born sickly but brilliant. When the Mirror Sect expanded into the region, they took him—offered him "healing through cultivation."

He never returned.

Three years ago, she found his name carved in a forgotten crypt.

> "No burial. No memory. Just a statistic in a war of ideologies."

She trained alone. Taught herself spearwork in the style of the Storm Boar Legion, using stolen scrolls and stolen time.

Now she wandered—not to change the world, but to remember someone the world forgot.

"I figured leaving his ashes in the First Flame was better than scattering them over dust."

Liang Yue leaned forward. "Why not join a sect? You're strong. Focused."

Jun Feilan shook her head.

> "I don't need flags. I don't need war. I just want to make sure my brother's name doesn't vanish."

---

The Flame Accepts

The next morning, Feilan approached the First Flame, alone.

She knelt, unwrapped a small clay urn, and whispered a short prayer in her brother's name. Then she tossed the ashes into the fire.

The flame, instead of rejecting it, surged.

Not with power.

With warmth.

And for just a second, everyone saw it—

A boy's silhouette in the fire. Smiling.

Feilan didn't cry.

She just said, "About time."

---

A Decision Made

Lin Feng walked up beside her.

"You going to keep walking alone?"

Jun Feilan looked at him.

"You going to tell me where you're going?"

"To find who gave the world this obsession with rewriting pain. To stop whatever's coming next."

She glanced at the others. Liang Yue. Tian Mian. Yan Zhen.

"Then yeah. I'll walk with you. But I fight for memory. Not vengeance."

"That's exactly what we're fighting for," Lin Feng said.

Feilan slung her spear across her back. "Then let's walk."

---

End of Chapter 20