The Sunset Arrow – Arrival - Chapter 7

Evening arrived at the Jones family’s bedroom.
With the sun slowly setting, Aiya sat cross-legged on the massive, pure black double bed, lost in meditation. Tonight was the Night of the Full Moon. The Master’s final words, delivered on the day she became his disciple, had silently burrowed into her heart like a needle. Aiya couldn’t shake a deep sense of unease, so she stood firm, ready for anything.
As the brilliant moonlight began to filter in, a golden mark quietly shimmered on Aiya’s brow. Without warning, an intense suffering erupted, tearing through every nerve and muscle, like a cruel, burning sensation inside her. Aiya’s face instantly became a mask of profound suffering; her delicate features were completely drained of color, left pale as parchment. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her entire body seized by tremors. Her fingertips were already buried deep in her palms, her breath coming in rough, ragged gasps. Cold sweat streamed down her temples as she endured the ripping pain that threatened to burst her body apart.
“Ugh…”
A metallic taste flooded her throat. Unable to swallow, Aiya coughed up a crimson liquid, which disappeared into the absolute darkness of the night.
She desperately tried to harness her spiritual energy, to steady the wild, golden power rampaging within her, but her insides felt like they were being consumed by fire. Her vision kept blacking out in waves, leaving her helpless to control the scattered, mysterious golden force.
The world shattered, growing distant and unreal. Time, dragged out by the pain, stretched into a single, unending line. She lost all track of whether minutes or ages had passed.
It was in this desperate moment that a strange intruder slipped into the bedroom. Moving like a shadow, he had effortlessly bypassed the defensive array. He made no move, merely hiding in a corner and watching Aiya in silence.
Finally, the worst of the suffering began to subside.
Aiya was soaked through, looking like a fish freshly hauled from the water. As her concentration broke, she fell silently onto the bed, her breathing shallow and slow.
The strange intruder then emerged, strolling out as casually as if he were shopping. He stopped by the bedside and looked down, meticulously studying Aiya, seemingly taking in the precise shape of her features.
His finger reached out, just about to touch Aiya’s brow, when the person on the bed, who should have been inert, suddenly snapped her eyes open! Her arm was already coiled and ready, poised to seize the intruder’s wrist—
The other party reacted with startling speed, tilting back. Aiya seized the moment, springing up, her foot lashing out in a silent strike. He dodged sideways, the friction of his robes barely a whisper. Aiya immediately drew her leg back, spinning, and delivered a palm strike, sharp as a blade, aimed straight at his throat.
A soft chuckle escaped him in the darkness. He stepped back and lifted his palm, effortlessly dissolving the force of her blow.
They exchanged several rapid moves. Aiya’s attacks were vicious, yet he simply retreated to defend, moving with a calm, unhurried grace. Each evasion was perfectly timed, ensuring she could never quite make contact.
It wasn’t until they shifted towards the window, and the silver-white moonlight illuminated the familiar face of her Master, that Aiya abruptly froze.
“Master?”
He raised an eyebrow. They held each other’s gaze for a long, silent moment, subtly testing the limits of the other.
“It wouldn’t bode well if my newest disciple died so quickly, would it?” the Master finally said, shattering the silence.
Aiya managed a weak smile. “Your ‘tuition fee’ is rather steep; I worry my life is too cheap to pay it.”
Her Master snorted, a barely perceptible flicker of annoyance in his voice. “If I intended to hurt you, I wouldn’t need to lift a finger.”
Aiya didn’t argue. She simply nodded lightly, her expression calm, bordering on indifference. A heavy silence settled between them.
“Decent?” the Master asked.
The question was curt, yet she somehow knew he was asking about the ordeal with the Spirit Mark on her brow.
“Yes,” Aiya replied quietly, her voice still rough.
Delayed exhaustion finally weighed down Aiya’s body. Distractedly, she glanced at the clear, elegant moonlight outside the window; it was a cloudless, fine night. If disaster strikes, meet it. If the river overflows, contain it. It was only one life, after all, and assassins should never be too precious about their own existence. With that thought, she relaxed slightly, calmly settling back onto the bed and locking eyes with her Master.
He looked at her with a rare, serious air. “Watch yourself. You really shouldn’t get injured on the night of the full moon. And if you end up in the Underworld, don’t come back to haunt me.”
Aiya only nodded, her expression still.
“Get some rest. You’ll be fine after a night’s sleep.” With that, the Master pushed the window open.
In the moonlight, he vaulted out, dropping from the fifth floor like a phantom. He vanished instantly from the Jones family’s tightly secured castle, his form drifting effortlessly, as if no barrier in the world could contain him.
After her Master was gone, Aiya, weak and spent, collapsed back onto the bed and closed her eyes. Her consciousness immediately plunged into the deep, boundless darkness—
Purple flames flickered in her pupils; a scorching pain radiated to her bones. The ground beneath her heaved like a living thing, and sounds of distress echoed endlessly. She lay in the cracks of the earth, her body shaking uncontrollably, her heart hammering wildly as if it wanted to escape her chest.
Gasping for air, she felt like she was suffocating, but her throat was locked tight. Every breath felt like razors. She couldn’t stop coughing, tasting the sharp, metallic tang of rust in her mouth.
The world was swallowed by darkness, leaving only the sound of demons whispering.
The morning sun crept over the window and landed on Aiya’s pale cheek.
She snapped her eyes open, her forehead slick with cold sweat, her breathing shallow. She rarely dreamt, yet the previous night’s torment had led her into a nightmare. Rubbing her faintly aching temples, she stared blankly at the brilliant golden sky. But a heavy feeling settled in her heart; the nightmare of the night before seemed stubbornly unwilling to leave. It was a clear, cloudless morning, yet the sunlight felt as heavy as a colossal stone.