Chapter 21: The Tunnel’s Entrance and a Qilin’s Presence
Dawn broke on the day of their departure, clear and cold. Lin Yue and Xiao Yu stood at the western gate of the Azure Cloud Sect, their backpacks slung over their shoulders, the Shadow Sect token and tunnel map clutched in Lin Yue’s hand. Elder Mu stood beside them, his face grave but proud.
“The disciples will hold the sect while you’re gone,” he said, handing Lin Yue a small, leather-bound book. “It’s a record of the Shadow Sect’s dark techniques—Master Liu translated it from an old scroll. It might help you fight the Dark Guards.”
Lin Yue took the book, tucking it into his backpack. “Thank you. For everything. For trusting me.”
Elder Mu smiled. “You’ve earned that trust. Now go—before the sun is high. The longer you wait, the more time Lord Xiao has to merge with the Dark Dragon’s soul.”
They nodded, turning to walk into the western woods. The trees grew thicker as they went, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patches. Xiao Yu led the way, her scout’s eyes scanning the underbrush for any sign of Shadow Sect scouts, while Lin Yue kept his focus on his dragon qi sheath—tight, steady, not a flicker of blue light escaping.
By midday, they reached the edge of the Misty Forest, where the tunnel’s entrance was marked on the prisoner’s map. It was hidden behind a pile of moss-covered rocks, indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain. Lin Yue pulled out the Shadow Sect token, holding it up to the rocks. A faint click echoed, and the rocks shifted, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel.
The air from the tunnel was cold, thick with the smell of damp stone and something else—faint, acrid, like burnt hair. “That’s dark qi,” Xiao Yu whispered, her hand drifting to the dagger at her waist. “Stronger than anything I’ve ever smelled.”
Lin Yue nodded, pulling out a torch and lighting it with a spark of spring qi (careful to keep his dragon qi sheathed). The flame flickered, casting long shadows on the tunnel walls as they stepped inside. The tunnel was barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, its walls rough and uneven, as if it had been dug with bare hands.
They walked in silence for ten minutes, the only sounds their boots scraping against stone and the distant drip of water. Then Lin Yue froze, his hand holding the torch still. He could feel it—a faint, distant vibration, like a heartbeat, coming from deeper in the tunnel.
“The qilin,” he whispered.
Xiao Yu tensed, her eyes darting around. “Can you sense it? How far?”
“Fifty paces, maybe,” Lin Yue said, his focus sharp. He could feel the qilin’s qi—dark, twisted, pulsing with a hunger that made his skin crawl. “It’s not moving. Yet.”
They continued forward, their steps slower now, quieter. The vibration grew stronger, until Lin Yue could hear the qilin’s heavy breathing, deep and rumbling, echoing through the tunnel. He held up his hand, stopping Xiao Yu, and pulled out the Shadow Sect token, holding it where the qilin could see it.
“Remember—stay calm,” he whispered. “Don’t let your qi flare. Let the token do the work.”
They rounded a corner, and there it was: the corrupted qilin. It was larger than Lin Yue had imagined—twice the size of a horse—with scales black as tar, horns curved like scythes, and eyes glowing red with dark qi. It stood in the middle of the tunnel, blocking their path, its nose twitching as it sniffed the air.
Lin Yue’s heart raced. He could feel his dragon qi squirming, trying to break free of the spring qi sheath. He focused, tightening the sheath, forcing the dragon qi back into its hidden state.
The qilin’s gaze locked on them. It stepped forward, its hooves scraping against the stone, and Lin Yue held the token higher. “We’re here on Lord Xiao’s orders,” he said, his voice steady—hoping the qilin couldn’t tell he was lying. “We need to pass through to the ley line core.”
The qilin sniffed again, its red eyes narrowing. It circled them once, twice, its nose almost touching Lin Yue’s shoulder. For a heartbeat, Lin Yue thought it had detected his dragon qi—thought the game was up. But then the qilin stepped back, lowering its head in a slow, reluctant bow.
It moved to the side, clearing the path.
Lin Yue let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his hands shaking slightly. “Let’s go,” he whispered, pulling Xiao Yu forward.
They walked past the qilin, their eyes forward, not daring to look back. The qilin’s heavy breathing followed them, and Lin Yue could feel its gaze on his back—sharp, suspicious, but not hostile. Not yet.
When they rounded the next corner, out of the qilin’s sight, Xiao Yu let out a quiet laugh of relief. “That was too close,” she said, her voice still shaky.
Lin Yue nodded, his heart still racing. “Too close. But we’re one step closer to the core. To my father.”
He held up the torch, illuminating the tunnel ahead. It stretched into darkness, but at the far end, he could see a faint, greenish glow—the ley line core, pulsing with dark qi.
They continued forward, their steps faster now, their resolve firm. The hardest part was still ahead—facing the Dark Guards, reaching the ley line core, stopping Lord Xiao. But for now, they’d survived the qilin. They’d made it this far.
Slow. Steady. Strong.
Lin Yue gripped the jade pendant around his neck, feeling its faint hum against his chest. His father was somewhere in the Shadow Palace above. The Azure Dragon Pearl was there, too. And soon—very soon—they’d face the man who’d torn their lives apart.
He took a deep breath, pulling Xiao Yu closer. “Let’s finish this.”