The red moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a blood-tinged glow over the scorched remains of what once might've been a thriving forest. Now, the land was twisted—charred trees stood like skeletal fingers clawing toward the heavens, their branches barren, their trunks blackened as if fire had long claimed their souls. Ash drifted through the air in lazy spirals, silent and steady, coating the forest floor in a thin, gray shroud.
There was no birdsong. No wind. Not even the rustle of leaves. Just an oppressive stillness that seemed to press in on the lungs and scratch at the back of the mind. Every breath felt too loud. Every step too risky.
This was the Blood Forest of Asylum—a place not known for violence, but for waiting. Watching.
And now, it had new prey.
Nine young cultivators. Tired. On edge. Far too aware that their trial had turned into something far more deadly than they'd prepared for.
The hunt had already begun.
Su FengQiu
I wasn't even fully awake when it happened.
The moment my eyes blinked open, I felt it in my hand—my sword, still sheathed, pulsing faintly against my palm like a second heartbeat. I sat up slowly, back stiff from a night of half-sleep and ash-covered ground. The forest around us was still wrapped in that eerie silence. But something was off. Wrong.
A faint light shimmered at my side.
I turned my gaze downward and unsheathed my sword just an inch, just enough to see it.
One symbol.
Only one.
Faint, but unmistakable. A dull crimson glow, throbbing steadily in the morning shadows like a silent drumbeat.
The symbol of Strength.
But my breath hitched—not from awe. From dread.
Because it wasn't glowing in pride or resonance.
No. This particular symbol had another meaning... one carved deep into the legacy of the first user of the Dao of Strength. It was the symbol of the Hunt.
And if the Hunt had begun...
"They've found us," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.
But Yanyun was awake—already standing, already watching me from just a few paces away. I hadn't even sensed her presence all night.
"What?" she said, sharp but quiet. Her eyes flicked down to the sword still glowing faintly in my hand.
She didn't hesitate. Not even for a second.
"Everyone up! Now!" Her voice was low, but it cut through the camp like a blade through silence. No yelling. No panic. Just pure, commanding urgency. "Pack your gear. We're moving!"
There was no confusion, no half-asleep groaning or asking why. We'd only been together a short time, but when Yanyun spoke like that, people listened. Leaders don't explain in a crisis—they act.
The others jolted awake, brushing off ash and sleep, hands already going for bags and blades. HaoYu cursed under his breath as he reached for his sword. Lin Jue was already on his feet, muttering something about a bad feeling. Meilin's eyes scanned the woods before she even stood.
Yanyun moved among them, calm but fast. She didn't even look at me again, because she trusted me. Trusted that whatever I saw was real.
And it was.
They were close.
The kind of close where a single breath could give you away. The kind of close where hesitation meant death.
I looked at Yanyun, and she nodded once.
"Run."
No dramatics. No rally cry. Just the hard truth.
And we ran.
We sprinted through the Blood Forest of Asylum, ash kicking up under our feet, the blackened trees blurring past. My heart pounded louder than any beast's roar, louder than the chaos behind us.
I didn't know what was chasing us, not exactly. But I knew they weren't human. Not really.
Summoned beasts from the Chaotic Empire… things that didn't breathe or bleed right. Things made of teeth, muscle, and the smell of old blood. The kind that will chase and hunt you until its last breath.
Branches whipped past me. I could hear Meilin's footsteps barely tapping the ground—her movements clean and fast. Liu Sheng's breathing was controlled, keeping pace. Lin Jue? Crashing through like a boulder, but he was fast. Too fast for something his size.
"Faster!" Yanyun's voice came from up ahead. She was leading the charge, of course. The one with the map in her head, the one who planned, even while chaos snapped at her heels.
Behind me, HaoYu cursed under his breath. "Damn beasts, I swear if I had more strength—"
"Don't talk! Save your breath!" I snapped, even as I pushed forward.
My sword pulsed again in my grip. No glow, no light—but a whisper, almost like a heartbeat… not mine. Theirs.
They were getting closer.
The wind shifted.
That was the first sign.
Not the branches creaking, not the trees groaning under ancient weight—no, it was the wind. It carried something unnatural… thick, metallic, like rusted blood and rotting fur.
Then came the sound.
A howl.
Not one. Not two.
A pack.
Long, drawn-out howls, layered over each other, distant but closing in. The kind that slipped into your bones and made your instincts scream. Made you feel like prey.
My grip tightened around the sword as a chill ran up my spine.
Yanyun didn't even need to look back. "They've released hounds."
"Tch—wolves?" Lin Jue growled.
"No," I muttered. "Not wolves. Hunting beasts. Summoned things bred for tracking Qi and blood. They don't stop once they've caught a scent."
More howls echoed through the forest, weaving through the twisted trees like a song of death.
Meilin glanced back, eyes wide. "They're getting closer."
"We don't stop. We don't turn back," Yanyun said, her voice iron. "Stick to the plan. We lose them in the canyon pass. If anyone falls behind—"
"No one falls behind," HaoYu snapped. "Not happening."
We were running.
Branches snapped beneath our feet, black leaves crunched like broken glass, and the howls behind us only got louder—closer. The forest twisted like a living maze, every shadow hiding death, every step just a heartbeat from ending.
But then—
My sword pulsed.
A soft thrum. Then a glow.
That same symbol again—Dao of Strength.
But this time… it wasn't faint.
It blazed.
A bright, burning glow like white-hot steel, radiating through the night in sharp lines. The symbol pulsed not with fear… but with intent.
It was calling for a hunt.
Not to flee.
To fight.
The hair on my arms stood up, my blood humming like it had caught fire. The air around me shifted—no, it changed. I wasn't just running anymore. I could feel it now.
That same pressure from before, from when the sword accepted me.
But stronger.
Clearer.
The message hit me like lightning.
"A hunt isn't just one-sided. If you can be hunted… you can hunt back."
My steps slowed. I turned.
Yanyun shouted, "FengQiu?! What are you—"
"They'll catch us anyway," I said, my voice low. Calm. "If we keep running, someone's gonna fall. But if we strike first…"
The glow flared again, as if the blade agreed.
"…We become the hunters."
Finally you decide to fight back...
The voice rang out, not from around me—from within me.
"What are—?!"
I started, mind spinning, but I didn't get to finish.
"I'm on your hand," the voice interrupted smoothly, steady and ancient like stone grinding against time. "The spirit of the blade."
I nearly stumbled mid-step, but the grip on my sword tightened instinctively.
A spirit? My sword had a freaking spirit?
"Since when?!"
"Since before your bones were born, boy. Since before your bloodline crawled toward glory."
The voice didn't sound amused—but it didn't sound mad either.
Just… proud. Patient.
Old.
"You're my master's descendant. So I'll lend you strength, if you have the will to use it."
"So what now?" I whispered.
"Now?"
The spirit's voice was quieter now. Almost like a whisper in a storm.
"Now you stop running, and you let the world remember why blades were feared before names."
I tightened my grip, pulse thudding in my ears.
"What's your name?" I asked, breath shaky.
"Does it matter?"
The spirit's tone was calm, distant. Like it truly didn't.
"To me, yes."
There was a pause. Almost like it was surprised. Then—
"Sixteen Lights."
A name like a riddle. A legacy.
I didn't know what it meant yet, not really—but I felt the weight behind it.
"Thanks," I whispered.
No reply. But the sword pulsed once more in my hand, warm… alive.
"You focus on slicing. I'll do the rest."
There was nothing else that needed to be said. That one sentence alone—calm, unwavering, full of unshakable confidence—was enough to make me believe I could cut down a demonic master without hesitation.
"…Don't actually jump a demonic master though," the sword added dryly.
Oh. Right. It can read my thoughts.
Yanyun shot me a look, half annoyed, half baffled. "Why are you talking to your weapon? You losing it or what?"
I smirked, glancing down at the sword's faint glow. "Not talking to it exactly… it talks back. At least when it feels like it."
She blinked, like I just told her the sword was my emotional support. "For real?"
"Yeah, it's got a spirit. Name's 'Sixteen Lights.' Kinda intense, but I trust it more than most people."
Her eyebrow twitched, slightly offended. "That 'most people' doesn't include me, I hope?"
"No worries, it doesn't," I said, grinning.
"Good," she replied with a smile, the tension between us easing like a warm breeze after a storm.
I think I never mentioned it but she's low-key pretty.
Tut tut, in love?
The sword's voice chimed in my head, teasing like it was sipping tea with a front-row seat.
I nearly choked on air.
"Shut up," I thought, mentally slamming the door.
Oh don't worry, it purred, I won't tell anyone. Just your heart. And maybe her… if I'm feeling dramatic.
I could feel the smugness pulsing from the blade like it had just landed a crit and knew it.
A beast burst through the tree line to our right—a wolf, but not like anything natural. It was shaped like a shadow, stitched with bone. Its fangs dripped with something that hissed against the air.
Behind it, more emerged.
Ten. Twenty. Fifty. No—maybe eighty. A small army.
"Spread out!" Yanyun yelled. "Move to the trees!"
I twisted my body, blade coming to life in a silver arc as I faced the lead wolf.
"You focus on slicing, I'll do the rest," the sword murmured again.
I didn't answer.
There was no need.
As soon as my blade sliced into its body, a symbol on the sword burst to life—
The Dao of Flames.
Fire erupted from the steel, roaring with a vengeance as it engulfed the beast.
But the cost—
I felt it immediately. My Qi drained like a dam had burst, pouring out in rivers with every second the flames burned.
This wasn't just using fire.
It was borrowing the wrath of an ancient Dao… and it wanted everything in return.
"I can't hold this for long," I muttered through clenched teeth.
The heat was unreal. My Qi was draining fast—like it was being devoured.
From the tip of my blade, a phoenix of pure flame screeched into the sky, wings of inferno slicing the air as it dove—
—and everything in its path turned to ash.
The phoenix let out one final screech before it dove straight into the heart of the pack.
BOOM.
A wave of searing light ripped through the forest, and when it cleared—
Ash.
Just ash.
Around fifty of them, gone. Vaporized in an instant.
Then the flames blinked out.
And so did my Qi.
My legs buckled. The world spun. I dropped to one knee, the sword dragging in the dirt beside me like it weighed a thousand tons.
Empty.
I couldn't even lift my hand.
"Okay…" I gasped. "That was… a lot."
"My bad. Didn't realize your Qi capacity was that low," it muttered—zero apology in its voice.
I dropped to one knee, wheezing, vision swimming. My arms felt like they were packed with wet sand.
"Your grandfather could go for days without stopping," it added, like that was supposed to help.
"Yeah?" I coughed. "Well, I'm not my grandfather, am I?"
I could feel it smirking. Don't ask me how a sword smirks, but this one absolutely did.
"Maybe try actually apologizing," I grumbled, using the blade like a crutch to pull myself up, but only managed to lift my head.
"Apologies are for the weak," it said smugly. "Also, I did tell you not to jump a demonic master. That thing was basically the baby version."
I groaned. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"Only slightly more than watching you nearly pass out from your own overconfidence."
"You're the one who gave me that confidence."
"Well, I already took it back."
The rest of the wolves were already falling—cut down by fast footwork, blades flashing like lightning, fists cracking bone, and Yanyun's voice keeping them all together like a thread through the madness.
When the last shadow wolf collapsed into a pile of twitching ash, I let out a shaky breath… and almost tipped forward.
Before I hit the ground, a hand caught my shoulder.
Yanyun.
She knelt beside me, eyes sharp but filled with concern. Without a word, she pressed her palm to mine, channeling her Qi into my system. It flowed in like a warm stream, steady and calm—tinged with that unique presence that was just her.
"You burned out fast," she said softly, half teasing, half worried.
"Used a technique I wasn't ready for," I muttered, trying not to look too wrecked. I probably failed.
"Dummy," she murmured, but there was a smile on her lips.
A second later, HaoYu landed beside us, grinning as usual.
"Look at you, already needing backup," he said, kneeling down and adding his Qi to the mix without hesitation. "Don't hog the cool moves if you're gonna faint right after."
"Hey, I almost looked cool," I shot back.
"Almost," HaoYu snorted. "But then you flopped like a fish. Real elegant."
I rolled my eyes. "You done roasting me?"
"Not even close," he replied with a smirk, sitting back on his heels like he had all the time in the world to clown me.
Yanyun hid a smile behind her hand, failing miserably. "To be fair… it was kind of dramatic. Fire phoenix, then faceplant? Classic."
"Great," I muttered. "I almost die saving everyone, and all I get is commentary."
"Oh don't worry," HaoYu said, clapping me on the back hard enough to make me wheeze. "We'll put it on your tombstone. Here lies FengQiu. Burned bright, burned fast, fell on his ass."
"You're both terrible."
"And you're still alive." Yanyun winked. "So we'll call it even."