The cave was quiet, a comfortable silence broken only by the steady drip of water from the spring. Zhu Zhuqing's question lingered in the air between them, and Arthev's answer felt deliberately simple. "I was hunting a soul beast for my soul ring. It was a success."
Zhu Zhuqing studied him, her dark eyes full of confusion. A Soul Master who appeared to be her own age had faced a Soul Elder with unshakable calm. He possessed a flame that could purify a deadly poison, and that violet soul ring… The questions crowded her mind, but she pressed her lips together. He had saved her life. Demanding his secrets was no way to repay that debt.
She gave a slow nod, wincing as the movement pulled at the wound on her waist. "I see. Thank you again. For everything." Her voice was steadier now, though fatigue still weighed on the words.
Arthev's gaze followed hers to the injury. "The poison is gone, but it still needs to be dressed." He tore a long, clean strip from the inner lining of his robe, walked to the stream to wet it, and returned. "This will need to be bound. Can you manage, or shall I help?"
Heat flushed Zhu Zhuqing's cheeks. "I… I might need help," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Arthev merely nodded, his expression practical and focused. "Then please, hold still."
His touch was efficient, his hands careful as he cleaned and bound the wound. Zhu Zhuqing noticed the controlled strength in his fingers, a contrast to their gentleness. It was another layer to his mystery. He could have used his Divine Tree martial soul to heal her completely, but he had already revealed his blue flame; some secrets were best kept.
When he was done, he tied a secure knot. "That should hold. You've lost a lot of blood. You need rest and proper food."
A low growl echoed softly in the cave. Zhu Zhuqing's hands flew to her stomach, and a flush of crimson spread across her cheeks.
A faint, almost invisible smile touched Arthev's lips.
"I'll take that as a sign." He stood up. "I saw some berry bushes not far from here. I will be back shortly."
"Wait," she called out softly, but he was already gone. She leaned back against the cold stone, a conflicted sigh escaping her lips. "Why is he doing this?"
Outside, a short distance away, Arthev began picking dark berries into a fold of his cloth. A gruff voice chuckled in his mind.
"Heh. The little mouse is embarrassed. You should have let me out, brat. I would have found her a proper meal. Something with bones to crunch." It was Shukaku, his tone a mix of amusement and impatience.
A smoother, feminine voice followed, laced with teasing. "Do not listen to him, Arthev. He has the subtlety of a rockslide. The girl is proud. Your quiet help was the right choice. Though... she is quite pretty, even when pale as a ghost." This was Matatabi.
Arthev continued picking, his movements unhurried. "She is injured and alone. That is all that matters right now."
"Is it?" Matatabi purred. "You watch her quite closely for someone who doesn't care."
"I'm ensuring an investment doesn't die," Arthev retorted mentally, though the excuse felt thin even to him.
A third, deeper voice rumbled, cautious and slow. "The poison was strong. My water could have purified it, but your flame was faster. Still... be careful, Arthev. She has a sharp eye. She sees you are more than you appear." Isobu, the Three-Tails, offered his wisdom.
"What does it matter if she sees?" Shukaku barked. "If she becomes a problem, we squash her! Simple!"
"Always with the squashing," Matatabi sighed. "The world is not your sandbox. She is no threat. She is... curious."
"Curious gets you killed," Shukaku grumbled.
Arthev tied the cloth stuffed with berries and pulled the knot tight. "Enough. She needs food and rest. We are not crushing anyone today." His voice carried a calm certainty that quieted the scattered arguments in his mind.
"I doubt berries will be enough to ease hunger or help full recovery," Arthev muttered as he headed toward the plants.
He stopped beside a patch of rough, waist-high weeds. Broad leaves. Thick stems. He placed his hand on one and let his soul power flow. The plant shivered. Its structure bent under his will. Leaves curled inward, bark thickened, and the shape tightened into a small apple tree. He fed it more energy. Branches stretched and reddened fruit swelled into full size in seconds.
He plucked an apple, took a slow bite, then gathered a handful more for Zhu Zhuqing.
Back in the cave, Zhu Zhuqing accepted the berries and apples with a soft thank you. As she ate, Arthev crouched by the dry wood he had collected. A thin line of flame flicked from his finger, catching the kindling with a hiss. The fire eased the cave's chill and threw warm light across the stone.
"Your sister will not give up easily, will she?" Arthev asked, his gaze fixed on the raising flames.
"No," Zhu Zhuqing said, her voice flat and final.
Arthev poked the fire. "And the person you're looking for? The one who can give you a chance… who is he?"
Zhu Zhuqing drew her knees tighter to her chest. "His name is Dai Mubai. It was an arrangement between our families. If I can find him… we might stand a chance." She couldn't bring herself to explain the fusion technique, the depth of her desperation.
"An arranged alliance," Arthev stated, not asking. "You're pinning your survival on a stranger."
"I am pinning my survival on the only chance I have left!" she snapped, her eyes flashing in the firelight before the pain returned, and she sagged. "I have nothing else."
"A pact between clans," Matatabi mused. "It smells of obligation, not choice. A fragile hope to build a future on."
"It sounds complicated," Shukaku grumbled. "Why involve ourselves? Her problems are not our path. Let the weaklings sort their own tangled webs."
Then, Isobu's deeper, more thoughtful voice rumbled, "Do not be so quick to judge, Shukaku. Look at her posture. The set of her shoulders. She is not relying on this Dai Mubai out of laziness. She is grasping for the only weapon her world has left her. It is a strategic retreat, not a surrender. Her will to survive is strong. That is a language we understand."
Arthev was quiet for a long moment, watching Zhu Zhuqing. He saw the determined fire in her eyes, a reflection of the same will that burned in him. His power was a hidden burden, a secret he had to protect. Her struggle was an open deficit, a weakness she had to overcome. Yet the core of the fight was the same: survival against overwhelming odds.
He broke the silence, his voice low and even. "Then we should make sure you find him."
"Tomorrow," Arthev said, his tone leaving no room for debate, "we find this Dai Mubai."
Zhu Zhuqing looked up, surprised. "We? You..... have no reason to help me further. You have already done more than enough."
He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "A wounded hunter is easy prey. You would not make it to sunset on your own." It was a practical, almost cold assessment, a convenient shield for any flicker of sympathy. "Consider it an investment. I prefer my efforts not to be wasted."
"An investment," she repeated, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "Is that all I am?"
Arthev's eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary. "For now," he said simply. "It's safer that way."
He would help, but only as Arthev, a capable but otherwise unremarkable Soul Master. It was the only way to move through the world without attracting the dangerous attention his true power would bring.
Zhu Zhuqing did not argue. She simply nodded, a slow, weary gesture of acceptance. "Thank you, Arthev."
"Get some sleep," he said, turning to face the cave entrance, his back to her and the fire. "I'll keep watch."
Outside, the forest was swallowed by the deep quiet of night. Inside the cave, the small fire crackled, its light pushing back the darkness around two solitary figures each guarding a secret: one of a desperate quest for survival, the other of power too dangerous to reveal.
To be continued....