Northeastern Border of the Jia Ma Empire
Dawn painted the horizon in muted shades of gray as Zhu Xian and Die Ba set out once more. The forest, once welcoming, grew more hostile with every step eastward. The mist thickened, the trees towered higher, and the shadows stretched longer. They were no longer in the heart of the sacred woods but skirting an ancient path that wound toward the mountain lands.
After a day and a half of travel, the terrain changed entirely. The dense greenery gave way to jagged cliffs of dark stone and narrow paths threading between steep drops. In the distance, the silhouette of a fortified city rose like a steel crown perched upon the mountain: the Black Mountain Fortress.
“There it is,” Zhu Xian said, pointing toward the towers jutting through the haze.
“An independent city… neutral ground,” he added, his voice calm but edged with caution. “Guarded by mercenary cultivators, wandering clans, and exiles.”
Die Ba frowned. Though she had grown more accustomed to traveling among humans, the thought of stepping into a stronghold like that unsettled her.
“Are you sure they’ll let us in?” she asked quietly.
Zhu Xian gave a slow nod, though his expression betrayed uncertainty.
“They’ll let me in. But you…”
Die Ba’s gaze dropped to her serpent’s tail. Even veiled beneath layers of Dou Qi, its shape was unmistakable to any trained eye.
“They would recognize me… even in disguise,” she murmured, bitterness creeping into her tone.
“The Serpent Tribe is well-known,” Zhu Xian said, his voice even. “Many hate your people. Others… fear them.”
They stopped at an outcropping overlooking the fortress gate. Two massive steel doors stood like sentinels, flanked by black banners fluttering in the chill morning wind. Patrols moved along the perimeter—guards in light armor wielding lances and spirit orbs that glimmered faintly. It was clear: no one entered without inspection.
Zhu Xian pressed his lips into a thin line, then glanced down at her.
“We can’t take risks,” he said finally. “If they recognize you, they’ll alert your tribe… or worse, sell you out.”
Die Ba turned her head, trying to hide the frustration burning in her eyes.
“Then I can’t go in.”
“Not yet,” Zhu Xian said firmly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you behind.”
That night, they found refuge in a narrow cave near the mountain’s base. From there, they could see the fortress lights flickering high above, spiritual lanterns glowing like captive stars set into the stone.
Zhu Xian crouched and sketched a crude map in the dirt with a piece of charcoal.
“I’ll go in alone,” he said. “I’ll look for information, a safe way to bring you inside, and… maybe someone who can help conceal your identity.”
“Are you sure you can trust anyone in there?” Die Ba asked, her gaze fixed on the shimmering fortress above.
Zhu Xian’s lips curved in a faint, confident smile.
“No. But I have to try.”
Silence settled between them, heavy and unspoken. Then, in a voice almost too soft to hear, Die Ba whispered:
“I don’t like being apart from you.”
Zhu Xian met her gaze, his expression steady.
“Then I’ll come back soon,” he promised. “It won’t be long.”
At first light, Zhu Xian descended the slope, his figure blending into the winding paths that led toward the gates of the Black Mountain Fortress.
Die Ba watched him go, her chest tight with unspoken fear.
For the first time since fleeing her people, she felt the sting of waiting—the hollow ache of uncertainty.
But deep within her, a quiet strength—something planted in the Sacred Forest—told her to believe.
Their story wasn’t over.
It was only turning toward its next chapter.