"Is that bastard gone?"
A boy with long brown hair tied into a loose ponytail whispered the question, his voice tight and edged with suspicion.
His gaze flicked toward the taller boy crouched beside him, the two of them pressed close to the shadow of a massive boulder. Every movement was deliberate, every breath measured, as though even the air itself could betray their position.
The tall boy, broad-shouldered, brown-haired, glanced around one last time, his eyes sweeping the jagged terrain. Only when he was certain no flicker of movement lurked in the distance did he answer. "Yes… he's gone. We should go and check if Chu Ming is alright—"
Smack!
The sound cracked through the still air like a whip. A sharp sting bloomed on his cheek before his mind could even register the blur of motion. He blinked, stunned, his head snapping to the side under the force of the blow.
"Brother Chu Na," a girl's voice hissed, low but seething with venom, "do you really have the face to be concerned about her?"
Her eyes blazed, and her chest rose and fell with the sharp rhythm of her fury. "You left her to die. Left her while she screamed her lungs raw. And now… Now! you stand here pretending you care whether she's alright? She wouldn't even be breathing at this point, and yet here you are, acting all righteous!"
Her lips curled, and she spat onto the dirt beside him. The glob of moisture sank into the dust, leaving a dark, ugly stain. She turned away sharply, refusing to look at him again.
Chu Na said nothing. His face was pale, ashen, his eyes cast downward until his chin nearly touched his chest. The weight of her words pressed on him like stone.
He had been the one to order everyone to hold their ground. He had told them not to move, even when Chu Ming's voice had ripped through the air, raw and desperate. It had been the logical choice—at least, that's what he had told himself at the time. A rescue could have gotten them all killed. But knowing that did not erase the truth: he had abandoned her.
And there was no arguing that.
A warm hand rested on his back. The boy with the ponytail leaned closer, his voice softer, almost fragile. "I understand what you did… and why you did it. But I hope you understand Sister Fu and Sister Bao as well. What we did… it wasn't just rational. It was cowardly."
His eyes lowered. "We left her to die to save our own skins."
Chu Na's throat tightened. He shook his head slowly, his voice a hoarse whisper. "No, Brother Huan. It was me. I was the one who stopped you all. If it weren't for me, you would have gone to her. You would have tried. This… this is my fault. My cowardice… incompetence and fear."
Huan's hand pressed a little firmer against his back, steadying him. "If we were truly courageous, your words wouldn't have swayed us. We made a choice, each of us. Sister Fu, Sister Bao, me—we all chose to leave Sister Ming behind. Don't carry it alone… at least, not entirely."
He gave Chu Na a final pat, then straightened, his gaze scanning the barren horizon. "Come. Let's check on her. Maybe… maybe by some miracle she's still alive."
Chu Na hesitated, then nodded silently. The group moved, crouching low as they weaved between the towering boulders, each shadow a possible hiding place for what hunted them.
The ground beneath their boots was hard and cracked, the air dry enough to scrape at the throat. They moved with the slow, tense rhythm of prey crossing a predator's den.
And then… they found her.
The sight hit them like a blow to the gut. Their bodies locked in place, their breath faltering, as though the air itself had frozen.
There, lying on the dust-caked ground, was Chu Ming.
She was breathing, barely, but that was the only mercy left to her. Her body was a ruin. Sand and dust clung to her skin, mixing with the sheen of sweat and streaks of dried tears. Snot trailed from her nose, caking against her face. Her lips were cracked, her eyes once bright were dull, unfocused, utterly drained of life.
Her limbs…
Each arm and leg had been broken, deliberately, twisted into grotesque, impossible angles. Joints bent the wrong way. Bones pressed against skin in unnatural ridges. Whoever had done this had known exactly how to inflict the maximum amount of pain without ending her life.
Sister Fu's hands shook violently. She bit her lip hard, but the horror in her chest swelled too quickly. She drew in a breath… about to scream—
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Chu Na held her from behind, his other arm locking around her waist as she thrashed in panic. She kicked against him, nails clawing at his forearm, but he didn't loosen his grip. His mouth lowered to her ear, his voice barely more than a breath.
"Please… keep your voice down, Sister Fu. The soul cultivator might come back."
And that was the final nail in the coffin.
The last strand of restraint in Sister Fu's heart snapped like brittle glass. Her spiritual qi erupted from her body in a violent surge, a sharp and suffocating wave of fury that made the very air ripple. She spun on Chu Na without a second thought, her elbow driving hard into his gut.
"Argh!"
The breath tore from his lungs. Chu Na staggered back, one hand clutching his stomach, the other instinctively raised as though it could shield him from the raw emotion behind her blow. Pain contorted his face, but he said nothing.
Zip!
Huan was at his side instantly, stepping between them in a blur. "Enough—"
But Sister Fu was far from finished. Her eyes were wild, wet with tears that refused to fall, her jaw clenched so tight it could have cracked bone.
Spiritual qi condensed violently around her clenched fist, faint arcs of light dancing along her knuckles. She reared back for another strike—one that would not stop at a bruise.
Then.
Huan's hand shot out, his grip like iron yet somehow gentle as he caught her wrist and twisted it behind her back with careful precision. He didn't hurt her… just immobilized her, holding her firmly in place despite her furious struggling.
"Fu… please." His voice was calm, steady, but with an undercurrent of urgency. "Calm yourself. This isn't the time to fight each other. Not now."
Her teeth grounded audibly, her shoulders strained against his grip.
Huan leaned closer, speaking low so only she could hear. "Sister Ming isn't dead. She can still be saved. But not if we waste time like this. We have to work together, or none of us will leave this place alive. Please… I beg you."
Fu's breathing was ragged, her body trembling. She fought his restraint for another heartbeat… then her strength bled away all at once. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the dirt.
Huan released her wrist only to catch her in his arms. She collapsed against his chest, her face pressing into the fabric of his robe. Her voice was muffled, choked between sobs. "I… I'm sorry. I was just… too emotional… I know I'm only blaming him for my own incompetence and cowardness, but I can't help it. I can't live with myself like this…"
Huan's arms wrapped more securely around her, one hand cradling the back of her head. "It's alright. Sister Ming will live. We'll get away from here. All of us. But please… stop crying. It hurts me, it hurts Bao, and it hurts Na to see you like this."
His eyes flicked toward Bao as he spoke, a silent gesture for her to act.
Bao was already moving. The short girl crouched beside the mangled form of Chu Ming, her wavy brown hair spilling forward as she leaned in to assess the damage. Unlike the others, Bao was no great fighter—her cultivation strength was modest at best—but her skill in alchemy was exceptional.
It was the reason she had been invited on this expedition at all. In her hands, rare herbs became miracles; wounds that should have been fatal were reduced to faded scars.
Her slender fingers pressed against Ming's pulse points, her gaze tracing the fractures along the limbs. She worked in silence for several tense moments before finally speaking.
"She can be saved."
Those words snapped Huan's and Chu Na's attention instantly to her.
Bao continued, her tone calm but firm. "But I'll need a lot of resources to do it. High-grade bone repair herbs, essence marrow fluid… things we don't have on hand. Fortunately, there are substitutes here on this island. Not the exact thing, but close enough to work."
Hope sparked in their eyes. Na looked at Huan, and Huan back at Na, a silent exchange of relief.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Chu Na asked, his voice low but eager. "Tell us what they are and where to find them!"
Bao hesitated. "They're near the Obsidian Scorpion hordes."
The hopeful light dimmed in an instant.
Her expression darkened. "We can't defeat them. And even if by some miracle we could… the soul cultivator is still somewhere on this island. We've been lucky so far, but luck always runs out."
Na clenched his fists. "No. We have to try. We might not be able to fight the scorpions head-on, but we can take the resources by stealth. As for the soul cultivator—" He gestured vaguely to the area. "He hasn't found us yet. We've been moving carefully, and—"
His words slowed, his tone faltering. "Surely… we could safely… travel…"
The last syllables faded into a whisper. His gaze wasn't on Bao anymore.
It was on the shadow that had just fallen over them.
A long, oppressive shadow that swallowed their little group whole.
Gulp!
His throat tightened, the sound audible in the still air. Slowly, as though dragged by an unseen force, his head tilted upward.
Atop the boulder stood a man.
His black hair was long and loose, cascading like ink down his back. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, with his arms crossed over his chest. But his eyes, those two deep, blood-red jewels glowed faintly under the light, carrying a coldness that seemed to strip the warmth from the air.
"Demon…" Chu Na breathed, his voice shaking. His entire body shuddered involuntarily.