Second Day — Afternoon
Yan Li sent her ink mice out once more, checking every corner: nothing had changed. The same numbers, the same positions—perfect. She returned to the hiding spot.
— We can proceed — she said.
Wang Tao nodded, then glanced at Wei Lian. The younger brother was finishing something. A mask—carved from dark wood, with human features but a neutral, vacant expression. It was meticulously crafted, precise and haunting.
— Ready? — Wang Tao asked.
Wei Lian stared at the mask for a long time before tucking it into his spatial bag.
— Yes.
His voice was different: eerily calm, settled. Yan Li noticed the change but said nothing.
---
Night fell. The three approached with silent precision, stopping fifty meters from the palisade.
— Yan Li — Wang Tao whispered — send the mice with the poison.
She nodded and painted five mice, each carrying a small vial on its back, dark as the night itself. They scurried into the outpost, heading straight for the water barrels and the large cooking pots.
SPLASH. The poison dissolved like salt in water—transparent, soul-colored, leaving no trace.
Yan Li opened her eyes. — It is done. Now, we wait.
---
Five Hours Later — The Dead of Night
A cold wind whipped through the valley. Wang Tao gripped his bow, notched an arrow with a cloth-wrapped tip, dipped it in oil, and struck a spark: FIRE.
He aimed at the first tent.
WHOOSH—it hit. Flames erupted instantly. The second—WHOOSH. The third—WHOOSH. Within seconds, the outpost was screaming with fire.
CHAOS. Cultivators ran out, shouting and trying to douse the flames, but the fire moved too fast. Then, the poison took hold: dizziness, weakness, nausea. Men fell without understanding why. What is happening to us?
---
Wang Tao swapped his arrows for standard ones. He aimed at the watchtower.
WHOOSH—the first guard took it in the throat and fell. The second turned—too late. WHOOSH—he joined his partner on the floor.
Then, he aimed for the center: the largest tent. ELDERS emerged—five of them, ranging from levels 3 to 7 of the Qi Absorption realm. The leader roared:
— ATTACK! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!
Wang Tao aimed for him—WHOOSH. But the leader sensed it, dodging with lightning speed. The arrow hissed past, missing its mark. Dammit. The leader looked toward the origin of the shot and spotted three silhouettes in the distance.
— THERE! — he pointed — KILL THEM!
Twenty cultivators still capable of standing charged toward the three. Wang Tao stowed his bow and drew his daggers.
— Ready? — he looked at his siblings — Don't forget the plan.
Yan Li trembled but nodded. Wei Lian reached for his mask and put it on. Something SHIFTED: his presence became cold, hollow. Even Wang Tao felt a shiver. What has he done to himself?
But there was no time. The enemy was upon them.
— NOW! — Tao shouted. And he charged.
---
Yan Li took a breath. Her soul manifested through her ethereal brush, glowing with multicolor light: blue, gold, and a touch of violet. She began to paint in the air.
What was she creating?
Meanwhile, Wang Tao moved like a beast, sprinting toward the collision. Wei Lian followed a few paces behind, his hands weaving hand seals: methodical, precise.
COLLISION. Daggers slicing, blocking, killing. The Body Refinement disciples of the enemy were no match—common weapons ricocheted off Wang Tao's hardened skin.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG. He counter-attacked: swift, lethal. One fell, then two, three, four. Blood sprayed the dry grass. One of them screamed:
— QI ABSORPTION REALM CULTIVATORS!
Another followed:
— He's immune to weapons, run!
But it was too late.
Wei Lian completed his seal—BOOM. Thick, sturdy wood exploded from the ground like prison bars. It surrounded the remaining disciples all at once: a perfect, inescapable cage.
The trapped cultivators looked around in terror, slamming against the bars. They were solid, Qi-infused, unbreakable.
— WHAT IS THIS?! — one shrieked.
Wei Lian didn't answer. He simply stared through the vacant eyes of his mask. Empty. He waited for Wang Tao to finish what needed to be finished.
---
Wang Tao looked at the cage: fifteen trapped disciples, defenseless. He looked at Wei Lian.
— Good work.
Wei Lian nodded without emotion. Wang Tao approached the cage; the disciples recoiled.
— N-no! — one pleaded — Please! We have families!
Wang Tao stopped. He looked at them, then at Yan Li. She was watching, tension tight in her eyes. She doesn't want me to kill them. But...
He looked at the burning outpost. Five Elders were still alive. If I leave these ones alive, they could turn on us. I'm the only one with a refined body...
He decided.
— Wei Lian, open the cage. I'll end this once and for all.
Wei Lian nodded wordlessly and created a small opening. Wang Tao stepped inside—not as a warrior in a fair fight, but as an executioner. He moved fast.
SLASH. Silence. The first cultivator fell dead. The others in the cage began to scream:
— MONSTERS! YOU ARE MONSTERS!
Wang Tao didn't answer. He simply continued: one by one.
---
Yan Li watched everything. She didn't look away because she needed to see what happened when she didn't do the killing herself. Her chest tightened, but it wasn't guilt—it was a debt.
She looked at Wei Lian in his mask: hollow, standing still, watching as if he were an emotionless puppet.
Then she understood: We are breaking in different ways. Wang Tao carries it alone. Wei Lian hides from it. And I... I just watch. Am I worse?
She didn't know the answer, but she knew she couldn't stay this way forever.
With a resolute look, she finished her drawing—and a blue bird emerged from thin air beside her. Its ink-head tilted, looking into Yan Li's eyes. In that moment, she saw herself: her insecurities, her fears, but above all, her determination to change.
---
Inside the Fortress
The Leader of the Elders watched the wooden cage.
— They are Qi Absorption realm cultivators — he said in a cold tone.
— We sent our disciples to their deaths, DAMN IT! — another Elder spat.
— The Four-Leaf Clover Sect hid their talents well... — a third whispered.
The Leader drew his saber, his eyes burning with fury.
— FLAMING BATTLE SECT!
The remaining disciples and Elders looked to their leader. Every body was trembling—not with fear, but with fervor.
— THE BATTLE CALLS TO US! AND TO IT, HOW SHALL WE RESPOND?
A unified roar shook the air:
— WITH FLAMES!
They armed themselves, moving with blood in their eyes: for glory, for victory.
---
Wang Tao finished. Fifteen bodies lay on the ground. He wiped his dagger.
— Let's go — he said, his voice neutral. — There are still five left.
He pointed to the center of the post where the Elders were beginning to move: the strong ones. Wei Lian followed. Yan Li waited—her moment hadn't arrived yet.
In silence, they moved forward, each carrying their own weight: different, yet equally heavy.