Chapter 34: The Mist’s Illusions and a Fragment’s Call
Dawn painted the Sea of Mist in soft hues of pink and gold, but the calm didn’t last. By the time Hai’s ship—The Wave Chaser, a sturdy wooden vessel with frayed sails—cleared the harbor of Wavebreak, a thick white mist had rolled in, swallowing the horizon. The air grew cold, and the sound of the waves lapping against the hull faded into a hush, as if the sea itself held its breath.
Lin Yue stood at the bow, the jade box clutched in his hand, his eyes narrowed against the mist. The two fragments inside pulsed faster now, their rhythm sharp, urgent—calling to the third fragment, to the prisoner, somewhere in the heart of the mist. His dragon qi hummed in his dantian, a faint blue warmth that pushed back against the cold, but even that couldn’t cut through the fog.
“The mist plays tricks,” Hai called from the helm, his voice strained over the creak of the ship. “Don’t trust what you see. Don’t let it get into your head.”
Lin Yue nodded, but his attention was drawn to a flicker in the mist—a shadow, tall and thin, that seemed to glide across the water. He blinked, and it was gone. “Did you see that?” he asked, turning to Xiao Wei, who stood beside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
Xiao Wei shook his head, his brow furrowed. “See what? There’s nothing but mist out there.”
Lin Yue frowned. He reached into his robe, pulling out the wooden amulet Hai had given him. It was cold in his palm, but when he wrapped his fingers around it, a faint warmth seeped into his skin. The fragments in the jade box pulsed again, and suddenly, he understood— the shadow wasn’t real. It was an illusion, woven by the mist to distract, to frighten.
“The mist is using dark qi,” he said, raising his voice so the others could hear. “It’s feeding on our fears, making us see things that aren’t there. Stay close—don’t wander off. If you feel confused, focus on your qi. It’ll keep you grounded.”
His father stepped beside him, his hand resting on Lin Yue’s shoulder. “Your dragon qi—can it help us see through the illusions?”
Lin Yue closed his eyes, focusing on the two fragments. He let his dragon qi drift from his dantian, wrapping around the fragments first, then extending outward, like a thin blue web, into the mist. The fragments’ pulses guided him—their rhythm sharp where the mist’s dark qi was thickest, soft where the fog was just water vapor. When he opened his eyes, the world shifted: the mist thinned, and he could see the faint outline of rocks ahead, hidden just below the surface. More importantly, he could see the illusions for what they were—wispy tendrils of dark qi, twisting and shifting to mimic shadows, to sound like voices.
“I can’t make the mist disappear,” he said, his voice steady. “But I can show us the way. Follow me—I’ll lead us around the reefs.”
He moved to the helm, standing beside Hai. He pointed to a spot in the mist, where his dragon qi had detected clear water. “Go that way. Slow. There’s a reef a hundred paces to the left—we’ll hit it if we veer off.”
Hai hesitated, then nodded. He adjusted the helm, and The Wave Chaser turned, cutting through the mist. For a while, it worked—Lin Yue’s dragon qi guided them past hidden reefs, past illusions of sunken ships and screaming sailors. But then, the fragments in the jade box pulsed—hard, painful—and Lin Yue stumbled, clutching his chest.
“What’s wrong?” his father asked, catching him before he fell.
“The third fragment,” Lin Yue gasped. “It’s close. Really close. And the prisoner—he’s using it. He’s amplifying the mist’s illusions. Look.”
He pointed, and this time, everyone saw it: a ship, black and sleek, with no sails, floating in the mist ahead. On its deck stood a figure—tall, cloaked, holding a stone that glowed dark red. The prisoner.
But as they drew closer, the ship shifted. It wasn’t a ship at all—it was a mass of dark qi, twisted into the shape of a vessel. And the figure on the deck? It dissolved into a cloud of mist, only to reappear behind them, laughing—a cold, hollow sound that sent chills down Lin Yue’s spine.
“He’s toying with us,” Elder Mu snarled, drawing his sword. “Using the fragment to manipulate the mist. We need to find the real him—find the third fragment—before he picks us off one by one.”
Lin Yue closed his eyes again, this time focusing harder. He let the two fragments’ pulses drown out the noise of the mist, let them guide his dragon qi toward the third. The rhythm grew stronger, clearer, until he could pinpoint it—directly ahead, at the center of the mist, where the water churned violently.
“The Wailing Reef,” he said, opening his eyes. “That’s where he is. The third fragment is there, and he’s using it to tie the mist to the reef. If we can reach the reef, we can face him—for real, not in illusions.”
Hai grit his teeth, adjusting the helm to head toward the churning water. “Hold on tight! The currents around the reef are deadly. One wrong move, and we’ll be torn apart.”
The ship lurched as it hit a strong current, and Lin Yue grabbed onto the rail to steady himself. The mist grew thicker, and the illusions returned—this time, they were worse. He saw Xiao Yu, lying on the deck, her chest still, her face pale. He saw the alliance’s disciples, dead and bloodied, their bodies floating in the water. He heard their voices, begging him to help, to save them.
“Lin Yue!” his father shouted, shaking his shoulder. “Don’t listen! It’s an illusion!”
Lin Yue blinked, and the visions faded. The jade box in his hand was hot, the two fragments pulsing so hard they hurt. He took a deep breath, focusing on his dragon qi—slow, steady, blue— and wrapped it around his mind, shielding himself from the mist’s lies.
“I’m okay,” he said, his voice tight. “Just keep heading for the reef. We’re almost there.”
The ship creaked and groaned as it fought the currents, but Hai’s hands were steady on the helm. The mist thinned slightly, and ahead, Lin Yue could see it—the Wailing Reef, a jagged cluster of black rocks, surrounded by churning water and swirling mist. And on the largest rock, standing tall, was the prisoner—his cloak flapping in the wind, the third fragment glowing in his hand.
“He’s there,” Lin Yue whispered, his hand tightening around the jade box. “The real him. The real fragment.”
The prisoner looked up, as if he’d heard. He raised the third fragment, and the mist roared— a loud, wailing sound that gave the reef its name. The water churned faster, and dark qi oozed from the rocks, wrapping around the ship like tentacles.
“Prepare yourselves,” Lin Yue said, drawing his sword. His dragon qi flared, a faint blue light that pushed back against the dark qi. The two fragments in the jade box pulsed in time with his qi, ready to face the third.
The ship pulled up to the reef, and the prisoner smiled—a cold, cruel smile. “You’ve come farther than I expected, Lin Yue,” he said, his voice carrying over the roar of the mist. “But this is where it ends. The three fragments will be reunited. The Dark Dragon will rise. And you—you’ll be the first to die.”
Lin Yue stepped onto the reef, his father and the others following. The rocks were sharp beneath his boots, and the mist swirled around him, but he didn’t care. He held up the jade box, opening it to reveal the two fragments, their blue-glowed light contrasting with the third’s dark red.
“It ends here,” Lin Yue said, his voice steady. “Not for me. For you. For the Dark Dragon.”
The prisoner laughed, raising the third fragment higher. “We’ll see.”
The mist roared again, and dark qi surged from the reef, wrapping around the prisoner. His body began to change—growing taller, his skin turning gray, his eyes glowing red. He was merging with the third fragment, with the dark qi of the mist.
Lin Yue’s heart raced, but he didn’t back down. He summoned his dragon qi, letting it flow from his dantian, wrapping around the two fragments in the jade box. They pulsed in unison, their light brightening, pushing back against the prisoner’s dark qi.
The fight was about to begin. And this time, there were no illusions. No tricks. Just Lin Yue, his team, the two fragments, and a prisoner who would stop at nothing to bring back the Dark Dragon.
But Lin Yue was ready. Slow. Steady. Strong. That’s how he’d come this far. That’s how he’d win.