The gorge swallowed light. Jagged cliffs loomed on either side, their faces scarred by ancient battles. Pines leaned over the path, their branches whispering in the wind like conspirators.
Lin Xuan and Qiu Ran walked ahead, separated from the others by rocky bends. Silence pressed down, broken only by the crunch of boots on gravel.
Qiu Ran's smirk lingered at the edge of sight. "Lin Xuan, you seem calm. Too calm. Perhaps you think your tricks will carry you again?"
Lin Xuan's gaze swept the cliffs. "Tricks are for the impatient. I walk steady."
Qiu Ran chuckled, but his fingers brushed the hilt of his sword.
A howl tore through the gorge. Rocks clattered down as a Shadowfang Wolf leapt from the ridges, its black fur bristling, eyes glowing red. Saliva hissed where it struck stone.
Qiu Ran cursed and drew his blade. "Spirit beast, middle-tier! Don't get in my way!"
The wolf lunged. Qiu Ran slashed, his qi flashing in a crescent arc. Lin Xuan shifted fluidly, spear darting low to redirect the beast's leap. For a brief heartbeat, they moved as one—sword above, spear below, driving the wolf back.
The beast circled, lips curling in a snarl.
Qiu Ran gritted his teeth. "Keep up, cripple!"
Lin Xuan's eyes narrowed, calm. "Watch its left paw. It limps—old injury. It favors its right when lunging."
Even as he spoke, the wolf sprang. Qiu Ran slashed where Lin Xuan predicted. The beast yelped, blood spraying. Together they pressed forward—Lin Xuan's spear pinning its retreat, Qiu Ran's blade cutting its throat.
The wolf collapsed, its body twitching before stillness claimed it.
For a moment, silence reigned.
Qiu Ran exhaled, wiping his blade. "Not bad… for a cripple."
Lin Xuan's spear lowered. His gaze flicked sideways. Now he strikes.
Qiu Ran smirked, eyes glinting cold. "Too bad your miracles end here."
From the cliffs, shadows stirred. Three disciples leapt down, blades flashing. Zhao Kun among them, hate etched across his face.
"Lin Xuan!" Zhao Kun roared. "Today, the gorge takes you!"
The first blade came low, aiming for Lin Xuan's side. His spear swept, shaft striking hard, sending sparks across the stone. Another disciple thrust from behind—Lin Xuan twisted, letting the strike whistle past, spear butt slamming into the attacker's ribs.
Zhao Kun charged head-on, qi bursting around his sword. "Die, thief!"
Lin Xuan met him, wooden haft clashing against steel. Sparks showered.
Qiu Ran stepped back, arms crossed, smirk widening. He had no need to strike—the trap was already sprung.
[System Notice: Techniques Detected – Iron Fang Sword, Twin Snake Steps, Gale Slash.][Replication in progress… Efficiency rising.]
Lin Xuan's eyes sharpened. He moved with precision—copying, correcting, turning their flaws against them. One step mirrored, one strike reversed, their own rhythm unraveling in his hands.
The disciples faltered. One staggered, his weapon knocked away. Another gasped as Lin Xuan redirected his own strike back at him.
Zhao Kun snarled, spittle flying. "Monster! You steal our arts!"
Lin Xuan's spear pressed him back, voice calm as a blade's edge. "Then perhaps you should guard them better."
The gorge echoed with steel and fury, beasts howling faintly deeper within.
Wu Ming's distant shout carried faintly from the other path. "Senior Brother! Are you alive?!"
Lin Xuan's spear spun, striking Zhao Kun's blade aside. His calm eyes never wavered.
They came to bury me in the gorge. Instead, I will carve my path through them.
The battle for survival had only just begun.