The atmosphere was thick with tension and uncertainty. The disciples wielding their longswords had been mere witnesses to the unimaginable strength of the powerful sects.
They had seen logic and sense being defied in the awe-inspiring displays of power by the young men from Xiao. Now, they understood the importance of keeping their mouths shut.
Their pride had taken a major blow, leaving them moaning not just in their physical injuries but also in their wounded egos, which could not be salvaged.
Hai Du sat meditatively, mending his body with a quiet determination. He was at peace, and he felt proud of Xuan Yi, although he couldn't bring himself to say it.
Xuan Yi wore a despondent expression, his face a canvas of yearning and sorrow. He knew that Tian Wei was too resilient to have been terribly hurt, but the fact that he couldn't quite see him left a gaping pit in his stomach.
He made a firm decision to wait for Tian Wei to show up, even if it meant unburying the entire mountain to retrieve him if he didn't show up soon.
The halo of the mystery of breakthrough was already beginning to fade, and in a few days, he would lose the advantage he so enjoyed.
Suddenly, from a distance, he saw the rubble shift. He kicked into the air and quickly shot towards the source of the activity. He hovered above the ground, waiting patiently as the rubble shifted ever so gently.
It was as though whatever was underneath was trying to undo the weight of the debris. He chose to fly down and, with his rattan vines, pried away the rubble before spotting a bloodied and battered hand.
To his dismay, it wasn't Tian Wei's hand. He knew Tian Wei's hand like the back of his own. Willing the vines to twirl around the hand, he pulled the figure from beneath the cover of dust and rock.
It was Ming Wen, but he looked nearly unrecognizable. He had received a blow from Tian Wei before, and it was nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to keep his life.
Xuan Yi scoffed at the sight of Ming Wen. He held no sympathy for him, nor for anyone from the Yang clan. These people had relentlessly pursued him, recently pursued Tian Wei, and recently pursued… His thoughts trailed off to the heavy weight on his heart - the fate of Qing Fu ached him deeply.
He could have easily torn Ming Wen's heart out and found some comfort for the losses he had suffered. And he seriously considered it.
"What? Your fellows left you behind?" he sneered, looking down at Ming Wen, who could barely open his swollen eyes. His previously handsome face was now nothing more than swollen cheeks, bloodied eyes, and cracked lips. In this state, he didn't possess the air of royalty and pompousness that he had before.
"I wonder how the fan you flaunted would look to you know. It would sure add an air of mystery, don't you think?" Xuan Yi continued.
Ming Wen's barely audible grunt escaped his lips, and Xuan Yi couldn't decipher if it was a plea or apology. It was hard to tell if Ming Wen was still prideful and stubborn, and the grunt was actually a sneer.
Xuan Yi turned away from him, flying back. Not killing him was enough mercy. He wasn't going to offer him recovery pills, even if he had any.
As he flew back, he pondered something, considering it strongly. He wondered how important Ming Wen was to the Yang clan. Probably not much, otherwise, they would have taken him away when they escaped. But maybe they thought he was dead.
Even if they didn't think he was dead, he would be better as a hostage than nothing at all the next time the Yang clan returned. Because they "always return stronger."
Xuan Yi's mind raced with possibilities. Maybe he could use Ming Wen as leverage to gain information that could help him raise his stakes against the Yang clan.
The mere thought of angering the Yang clan was next-level, but they already desired his life, so how much worse could it get?
Now having earned himself a little respect, he looked over the longsword disciples before giving orders. "Carry him back with us when we leave. He'll be useful."
The longsword disciples froze, their bodies stiffening with fear, but also with the knowledge of the Yang's reputation. The Yang were both devil and god incarnate, and the mere thought of carrying a Yang disciple filled them with dread.
They were torn between the immediate terror of Xuan Yi's might and the certain terror of the Yang's wrath. After a moment of hesitation, they decided to take their chances with Xuan Yi.
They knew that the Yang's vengeance would be far worse than anything Xuan Yi could inflict upon them. After all, the Xuan clan was a formidable force, while their Longsword sect was barely worth mentioning.
Xuan Yi could see the fear and uncertainty etched on their faces, and he sighed, knowing that he would have to take matters into his own hands and drag Ming Wen himself.
He eased himself onto the cushioned surface, granting his weary body a moment of respite and repose. If he allowed himself to drift into slumber, his consciousness would be easily enveloped by the peaceful embrace of dreams, as effortlessly as a babe cradled in its mother's arms.
But then, the ground beneath them began to shake, and judging by the strength of the tremors they felt certain that it was Tian Wei who had awoken.