The wind roared past their ears, tearing at clothes and hair as the three plunged into the abyss. The cliff wall blurred beside them, jagged outcroppings flashing past in streaks of grey and black. The air was cold, thin, and heavy with the scent of damp stone. The darkness below seemed bottomless, swallowing the faint moonlight from above with every heartbeat.
Ren Hao's eyes darted wildly, his lips curling in a grimace as the ground rushed to meet them at a speed that would crush bone and pulp flesh. "Don't die yet," he muttered more to himself than to the others. His hands fumbled into his robes before pulling out a thin scroll tightly bound with red string. Without hesitation, he bit into the string, tearing it free. The scroll unfurled, and a faint shimmer of Qi-laced ink pulsed along its surface.
"Hang on!" Ren Hao barked, slamming his palm onto the scroll. Instantly, a burst of pale yellow symbols flared to life and shot downward beneath their feet. The script twisted into a massive, translucent talisman circle—three spinning rings of light that caught the air like a reverse vortex. Their bodies jerked violently as the talisman slowed their descent, the force tugging painfully at their shoulders. The whirling rings spun faster, dragging at the air itself, turning their plummet into a rapid glide.
But the glow faltered as the ink's Qi burned away in mere seconds, the symbols fracturing like shards of glass. The instant the talisman collapsed, Ren Hao snarled and shoved two short, viciously curved daggers into Lin Shu's free hand. "Use them. We'll be scraping the wall the rest of the way down!"
Without hesitation, Lin Shu twisted in midair, letting Yan Qing and Ren Hao clamp onto his arms. His legs kicked against the cliff face, boots striking stone hard enough to send sparks flying. The daggers bit deep into the rock with a metallic screech, showering them in fragments of stone. Momentum still carried them down, but now they were sliding instead of falling—each gouge of the blades slowing them, each impact sending shocks through Lin Shu's arms.
The wall tore at them, threatening to rip their grips loose, yet Lin Shu's expression was ice-cold. The blades carved a relentless, jagged path until the darkness swallowed them whole. Far above, the faint light of the surface vanished entirely, leaving nothing but the grinding of steel on stone and the abyss yawning endlessly beneath.
The walls blurred past them as they slid, speed finally dwindling until their descent ground to a halt. Lin Shu felt the strain in his grip—hairline cracks had begun to form along the edges of the embedded daggers. At this rate, the weapons wouldn't hold for much longer.
"Ren Hao, light it up," Lin Shu ordered.
Without hesitation, Ren Hao raised his right hand, flames coiling around his palm in a concentrated blaze. The flickering light spilled across the chasm, but the depths remained an oppressive void. They peered downward, yet no trace of the ground could be seen.
"We'll have to find a ledge or a cave," Lin Shu muttered.
The firelight caught on something—a faint break in the darkness. Not far below, barely visible, was the jagged outline of a small cave entrance.
Leaving the daggers wedged in the rock, Lin Shu conjured jagged, bone-clawed gauntlets that sank deep into the stone. His movements became deliberate, controlled, each claw finding purchase as he began to climb downward. Ren Hao and Yan Qing followed cautiously, keeping their attention on the faint glow from Ren Hao's palm.
Then, the silence broke. A sharp, low whistle echoed up from the abyss, a predator's keen slicing through the stale air.
The firelight reflected off something in the void—two enormous eyes, cold and sharp, catching the glow like shards of obsidian. A massive winged silhouette shifted in the shadows, and the size alone was enough to send a wave of cold dread through them.
"Damnit—" Yan Qing's voice trembled. "Is it attracted to the light?"
"Turn it off! Now!" he barked.
But Lin Shu's gaze stayed locked on the cave's position. His tone was grim. "It's already too late for that."
In one decisive motion, he released his grip on the wall and dropped. The beast's talons tore through the air, missing them by mere inches. The trio hurtled toward the cliff by the cave entrance. Lin Shu's strength was waning; the pill's effects were fading fast, leaving only the creeping weight of its side effects. His descent became harder to control.
They crashed onto the narrow ledge, momentum rattling through their bones. A deep, splintering sound followed—the cliff was fracturing beneath them.
"Inside, now!" Lin Shu shouted.
They scrambled. Lin Shu slipped into the cave first, gripping the jagged stone to pull himself in. Ren Hao followed, shoving Yan Qing forward—but the rock gave way under Yan Qing's feet. He cried out as the ground vanished beneath him.
Instinct took over. Lin Shu and Ren Hao each grabbed one of his arms, muscles straining as the beast's roar thundered from below. With a final pull, they dragged him inside.
"Thank you," Yan Qing gasped, chest heaving, the brush of death still fresh in his mind.
A deafening thud shook the cave entrance. Massive claws scraped against the stone, seeking purchase, but the hole was too small for the creature's bulk. They backed away as the talons retreated, only for the beast's eyes to reappear—dark, fathomless, and so deep in color they seemed like twin mirrors to the abyss waiting below.
Lin Shu then crumbled to the ground, his limbs twitching briefly before going completely limp as every shred of control over his body slipped away. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths, the aftershocks of what he had just endured still rippling through his meridians. Ren Hao collapsed beside him, the metallic taste of blood still in his mouth as he shut his eyes, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion he had been holding back.
Out of the three, Yan Qing was ironically in the best shape—though "best" was far from accurate when both of his legs hung useless, broken in multiple places. That fact alone was a grim testament to their condition. Even so, he was given the job of checking deeper into the cave, making sure no hidden danger lay in wait.
He dragged himself forward, palms scraping against the cold, jagged stone as he slowly crawled into the darkness. Every movement sent a flare of pain shooting through his legs, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. The cave air was damp, carrying with it the faint scent of mineral dust and something old, as though the place had been sealed off for centuries.
The tunnel wasn't long—just a winding stretch that sloped slightly downward before widening. At its end, he found not another chamber, but an opening—a gaping maw of rock that looked out over the same abyss they had plunged into. Jagged cliffs framed the view, and from the angle, Yan Qing could tell the other entrance to this place wasn't too far, though shrouded in mist and shadow. The sight gave him no comfort; it was just another reminder of the sheer drop that could have ended them.
Without lingering, he began the slow, agonizing crawl back. His palms were raw now, and the sharp grit clung to his skin, but he pushed through, inch by inch. When he finally returned to where Lin Shu and Ren Hao lay, the faint warmth of their shared presence was almost reassuring. He settled down beside them, every muscle sighing in relief, and let himself sink into the dim, heavy silence of the cave.
Now, all they could do was rest… and heal.
Somewhere else, Lu Heng tore through the forest, his breath harsh, each step hammering against the earth as if he could outpace the chaos chasing him. Beside him, Wuyu moved with equal speed, his long strides cutting through undergrowth without slowing. On Wuyu's shoulder, the unconscious Xie Lang hung limply, his head rocking with each jolt.
Suddenly, Wuyu skidded to a stop, his boots digging into the dirt. Lu Heng's gaze snapped to him, irritation flashing across his face.
"I'm heading to my clan," Wuyu said, his voice low but firm, the weight of the words carrying more than simple explanation. "And because of the oath, I can't take him with me. So you can have him."
Without waiting for a response, Wuyu shifted Xie Lang's weight and practically tossed him toward Lu Heng. The demonic cultivator caught him without hesitation, slinging the limp body over his own shoulder in one smooth motion.
Lu Heng's mind was already turning, cold and sharp. The thought of killing Wuyu right here and taking the demonic core back crossed his mind like a blade flashing in the dark. But the oath bound them still, an invisible chain locked tight around his will. For now, he couldn't act.
Still, his eyes narrowed as he studied Wuyu. From the look in the man's eyes, he wasn't leaving for safety—he was running toward something dangerous, something reckless. And if he was going back to his clan for it, then it wasn't just for himself. Someone else was the reason.
Without another word, Wuyu turned, his figure a dark blur as he vanished into the trees. Lu Heng watched him go for a heartbeat longer before spinning away, continuing his run. The forest swallowed both their paths, but their fates had just been split—each racing toward danger in their own way.