Chapter 12: Black Flame, Silver Moon
Xiao Ning sat cross-legged in the dim cave, shadows flickering across his face as the last of the silver fire faded from his veins.
The Codex’s voice—once a constant, insistent presence—had gone utterly silent, drowned by the paradox meridians that now coursed through his body.
For the first time in what felt like ages, his thoughts were truly his own.
Oddly enough, he felt lighter. Freed. As if some invisible burden had been peeled from his bones.
But freedom had its price.
His cultivation had been reduced to ash.
"Hmph." He rubbed his aching temples, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Starting over... again. Isn’t that just the story of my life?"
Yet even as he muttered, there was no bitterness in his voice. Strangely enough, he felt at peace. Before, he’d been shackled to Li Feng’s half-baked foundation—crude shortcuts layered over instability, a sandcastle of cultivation always one wave from collapse.
Now, he was clean. Blank.
A slate wiped bare.
"Clean slate, huh?" he chuckled, leaning his head back against the rough stone wall. "Maybe I should stop whining. Who else gets a second chance like this?"