Huff. Huff.
"Let's take a break before moving forward. You must be tired, Brother Chu Na," Huan advised as he slowed to a stop, boots sinking into the loose golden sand. His chest rose and fell heavily, but compared to the others, he was still holding himself together.
Behind him, Chu Na trudged forward, carrying Ming on his back. His temple was slick with sweat, droplets rolling down his cheeks only to vanish into the parched heat. His breathing came out ragged and uneven. Every step he took was weighed down by both exhaustion and the frail life he bore on his shoulders.
Bao wasn't any better. In fact, she was faring the worst of them all. Of the group, her stamina was the poorest, and now it showed. She bent slightly, hands braced against her knees, her entire body trembling as if she might collapse at any moment.
Her lips were pale, cracked from thirst, and her breaths came out in painful gasps. Yet her eyes, stubborn and unwilling, gleamed with the determination that kept her body moving despite the abuse it suffered.
Huan's words had been necessary. Forcing themselves beyond their limits would only cripple them faster. But the problem was simple, there was nowhere to rest.
The entire world before them was endless desert. Only rolling dunes beneath the scorching blaze of the twin suns, their relentless rays baking the sand. Resting here meant stopping in the middle of nowhere, with the blistering sky above and the unforgiving ground below.
Still, they stopped. They had no choice.
"How is Sister Chu Ming's condition? How long will she survive?" Huan asked after a moment, his voice quiet but weighed with grim concern. He turned toward Bao, who was kneeling beside the unconscious girl.
Bao's expression tightened as she examined Ming. Her fingers gently pressed along her meridians, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed the faint flickers of qi within her. After a long silence, she spoke in a measured tone.
"She can last for a day or two at most. Her injuries aren't fatal, but the pain alone will destroy her nerves if left unchecked. I've applied acupuncture to lessen her suffering, sealing off certain points to numb the flow… but it won't last forever. Eventually, it will wear off."
Chu Na's jaw clenched. His hands, though steady, gripped Ming's limp form tighter. "Then we have no choice. We need to gather the resources as quickly as possible. Obsidian Scorpion or not, we don't have the luxury of second thoughts."
Huan's eyes hardened, his tone echoing the weight of his companion's words. "Not just Sister Ming. We can't forget Sister Fu either. She's still in that demon's hands… who knows what torment she's enduring. We can't delay any longer. Every moment we waste is another moment she suffers."
Then his gaze turned sharply toward Bao. "Sister Bao, can you list the exact resources we need again?"
Bao nodded, wiping the sweat from her brow before reciting from memory. "The required resources are: Obsidian Soil, Golden Marrow, the Hide of a Dungbeetle, and the Leaf of the White Pine."
Chu Na's eyes flickered with a brief glimmer of hope. "The Leaf of the White Pine… isn't that from the oasis pines? That one, at least, should be easy to find."
"Easier, yes," Huan admitted, his voice calm but tinged with warning. "But the other three… Obsidian Soil, Golden Marrow, and the Dungbeetle Hide—each of them is far more dangerous. Don't forget, alchemy doesn't succeed on a single attempt. We can't afford to gather just one of each. We'll need extras, or everything will be for nothing."
Chu Na's expression darkened at that reality. "That's true… though despair won't help us. We can do this. The Obsidian Scorpions may be Cleansed Soul Beasts, but we're at Foundation Establishment Realm. If we work together, we can bring them down."
Huan nodded in agreement, though his silence lingered longer than usual.
It was Bao who broke it, her lips turning into a faint, tired smile. "Brother Huan, Brother Na, don't forget one thing. Scorpion-type beasts are solitary by nature. They despise moving in groups. That means if you two fight one together, the odds tip in our favor. Their strength is in their venom, not in their unity."
Huan shook his head, not comforted by her logic. "Even so, we shouldn't actively seek them out. We need to conserve our strength. That demon gave us a so-called 'choice,' but do either of you truly believe he'll keep his word?"
Bao gave a low chuckle, though it carried no mirth. "You're right. He never promised to spare us. What he gave us was a trial. A cruel gamble. Perhaps he sees it as a test of worth—or perhaps he's simply toying with us. In any case, we can't defeat him. So, we don't have a choice. He must also be searching for a path to ascend."
Chu Na clicked his tongue sharply. "Which makes things worse. If he succeeds in finding the path first, then we're nothing but discarded pawns to him. He'll slaughter us without hesitation."
The desert wind blew, scattering grains of sand across their faces. Huan's eyes darkened further. He exhaled a long breath, gaze fixed on the horizon where the dunes stretched endlessly. "Then there's no other path left. We press forward. We'll find the resources—today."
His conviction was steady, though the burden behind it was clear.
Bao and Na exchanged a long, weighted glance. Both knew the danger, both knew the cost—but both also nodded in agreement.
Without a word, Chu Na adjusted Ming more firmly onto his shoulder, his muscles trembling under the added weight. Huan bent slightly, motioning for Bao to climb onto his back. She hesitated, but due to Huan's persistence. Finally, she nodded and let herself lean onto him.
Then, step by step, the four of them continued their march across the desert.
…
Eventually, the endless sea of sand began to dwindle, the rippling dunes falling behind them until the desert stretched into something far darker.
Ahead lay a charred expanse of land, the soil black and cracked like cooled magma, as though the heavens themselves had once scorched this place in anger. The very air seemed heavy, carrying the faint stench of ash.
Across the fractured terrain, countless insects crawled—beetles with translucent shells, centipedes the length of a man's arm, and winged creatures that buzzed low yet never dared approach. All of them scattered whenever their gaze fell upon the single dominating creature that ruled this place.
It was a monstrous thing. A towering beast with eight legs that clicked against the hard black ground, its pincers gleaming like honed scythes, and a curved stinger arched menacingly over its back.
Its skin, if it could be called that, resembled blackened armor fused with the charred earth beneath, as though it had been born from the terrain itself. Each step it took left behind shallow grooves, and each breath it exhaled carried a faint corrosive mist that caused the smaller creatures to retreat in terror.
Huan's eyes lingered on the beast, unease twisting in his chest. Sweat slid down his temple, not only from exhaustion but from the oppressive aura of this place.
Finally, he exhaled heavily and forced his legs to stop moving. "Haahhh…" he muttered, rubbing his temple. "We can't rush this. First, let's rest. Then we'll think of a way to cross this terrain. Entering it now would be suicide."
Chu Na wordlessly nodded, his face as pale as parchment. He carefully lowered Chu Ming to the ground, adjusting her so that her breathing remained steady. Beside him, Huan did the same with Bao. The young girl immediately put distance between herself and him, her expression taut, eyes darting across the strange black horizon.
"I'll look around," Bao said quickly, trying to mask her nervousness with eagerness. "Brother Huan, Brother Na… I'll search for the Golden Marrow and the Hide of a Dungbettle while you two rest. We don't have time to waste."
Her voice trembled slightly, but her determination was sharp.
Huan turned his head sharply toward her. "What nonsense are you spouting?" His tone was harsher than intended, but the strain on his mind made it hard to restrain himself.
"You can't go alone. This isn't the desert anymore, Bao. This place…" He gestured at the blackened land. "…this place is dangerous. If you die, it isn't just you—our entire group is finished. Do you understand?"
Bao clenched her fists. "But it's not dangerous around the outer layer!" she insisted, her voice rising with desperation. "Golden Marrow is just a twig with a golden hue. It grows around here like weeds, it's not hard to spot! And the Dungbettle lives near it. They're common, and they won't attack unless provoked. I'll be back before you even open your eyes!"
She tried to make it sound simple, trivial even, but her urgency betrayed her.
Huan opened his mouth to retort, but Chu Na cut in. His tone was calm, yet strangely detached. "Let her go, Brother. She's right. We don't have the luxury of wasting time. If she wanders a little into the terrain, it should be fine. We can't guard her every step forever."
Huan froze, his eyes narrowing. Slowly, he tilted his head toward Chu Na, studying him. "…Should?" he repeated, his voice like a blade's edge. "Did I hear you correctly? Should? You, of all people, are suggesting we gamble with her life? With Ming's life? With all our lives?"
His tone sharpened, and before he realized it, his voice had risen. The tension in him broke loose. "What happened to you, Na? You've always been the rational one. Now you're willing to risk everything on a 'should'? Are you even listening to yourself!?"
His outburst hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Even the insects seemed to pause, their wings buzzing lower as though silenced by the weight of his anger.
Huan's chest heaved. Realization struck him, and his expression softened into shame. He bowed his head, pressing a palm against his forehead.
"I…" His voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I'm… I'm just tired. But Bao, please… don't go. It's not the best idea. Just give me an hour. Rest with us. Once I recover a bit, I'll accompany you myself."
Silence fell over them.
Bao and Chu Na exchanged a glance. The girl's lips parted as if she wished to argue further, but in the end, she only sighed. Chu Na gave a faint nod, lowering his gaze. "…As you wish. It was my fault too. I shouldn't have suggested it."
The matter was settled, but the air was thick with tension none of them wished to confront.
Bao crouched down beside Ming, eager to shift her focus, to distract herself from the sting of Huan's words. She placed her hand gently over Ming's wrist, circulating a thin strand of spiritual qi to gauge her condition. What she found made her freeze.
Ming's spiritual qi… was strange. It was not weak and feeble, as it should have been for someone hovering on the brink of death. Instead, it was contradictory, incomprehensible. It existed—and yet it didn't. Like a flame burning brightly yet leaving no warmth, no smoke, no trace.
Her meridians were perfectly intact. Her dantian was whole, untouched by injury. By all logic, she should have been fine, if not simply exhausted. Yet her qi told another story.
It still carried the faint invigorating energy of life, but it was slipping away, piece by piece, like grains of sand through an open palm. Slowly, steadily, her existence was being unraveled.
Bao's face tightened, a chill creeping into her bones. "What is this?…" she thought, her brows furrowing.
Her thoughts flashed back to the demon, Zheng Xie. A shiver ran down her spine. "Is this… the work of that Demon? Did he curse her?"