The shift in the expedition's hierarchy was as stark and immediate as the ironwood spikes that now littered the clearing. Elder Ma, his face a mask of thunderous humiliation, had no choice but to cede the authority that Elder Feng had so publicly granted. Li Yu and his three friends now walked at the head of the formation, just behind Elder Feng herself. The disciples of Elder Jin's faction, who had once been the proud vanguard, were now relegated to the middle ranks, their earlier arrogance replaced by a sullen, resentful silence.
"Walk beside me, Disciple Li," Elder Feng commanded, her voice crisp. "Lend us your unique senses."
"Yes, Elder," Li Yu replied, his expression humble. As they began to move, he discreetly released not one, but a dozen of his Scout Shrimp into the soft earth. They scattered, an invisible, multi-pronged sensory network that spread out ahead and to the flanks of the group, feeding him a constant, three-dimensional map of the forest floor.
The disciples now moved with a new, heightened sense of caution. The near-disaster had sharpened everyone's senses. After about half an hour, it was Su Ling who raised a hand, her voice a sharp, cold whisper. "Halt. Look to the trees on the right."
Everyone froze. Following her gaze, they saw them: nearly invisible, web-like strands, no thicker than a hair, strung between the black-barked trees. Each strand was coated in a glistening, dew-like substance.
"Shadow-Weaver Spider silk," a disciple with expertise in demonic beasts whispered in horror. "The dew is a potent neurotoxin. If we had walked through that, we'd have been paralyzed in seconds."
Elder Feng nodded, a look of approval on her face. "Well spotted, Disciple Su." She glanced at Li Yu.
"Senior Sister Su is correct," Li Yu affirmed quietly. "My own instincts were warning me of a silent predator in that direction." His swarm had already mapped out the entire nest, but he knew better than to reveal the full extent of his ability. Sharing the credit was a far safer path.
They carefully altered their course, their respect for the forest's hidden dangers deepening. A short while later, the formation expert who had been humiliated earlier suddenly stopped, his face pale. "Elder Feng! The spiritual energy of the earth ahead… it feels constricted, tense. Like a drawn bowstring."
Elder Ma sneered, about to make a cutting remark, but a sharp glare from Elder Feng silenced him. She looked to Li Yu. "Disciple Li, what do you feel?"
Li Yu closed his eyes, feigning deep concentration. His swarm was already feeding him a clear image of the dormant, pressure-triggered formation. "The expert is right," Li Yu said, his voice grave. "The earth feels dead. There are no earthworms, no burrowing insects. It is a sign of a powerful, dormant array designed for a large group. I believe he has found a major trap."
This time, no one questioned him. Elder Feng ordered Hu Jian to once again hurl a massive boulder. The moment it struck, a complex, blood-red array flared to life, and the ground erupted in a forest of poison-laced ironwood spikes.
The disciples stared, a cold sweat breaking out on many of their brows. They had now been saved twice, once by Su Ling's sharp eyes and once by a combination of their formation expert's sensitivity and Li Yu's uncanny instincts. They were beginning to operate less like a group of individuals and more like a true, elite team.
Their newfound caution was put to the test moments later. The forest's unnatural silence was finally broken by a series of soft, almost inaudible thwips from the canopy above.
"Ambush!" Elder Feng's voice was a thunderclap. The moment she spoke, a rain of small, black, needle-like projectiles fell from the treetops, aimed at the center of their formation.
The disciples reacted instantly, their protective Qi flaring to life, deflecting the needles with a series of sharp pings. But the needles were just a distraction. From the deepest shadows of the canopy, a dozen figures in tight-fitting black leather dropped from the trees like spiders on a thread, their movements silent, their short swords coated in a glistening, black poison.
They were the assassins of the Blackwood Syndicate.
Their attack was a masterpiece of lethal coordination. They did not attack the powerful elders at the front. They did not attack the well-defended vanguard. They struck at the weakest point: the middle of the formation, where the disciples of various factions were still struggling to coordinate with each other.
A cry of pain erupted as one of Elder Ma's followers, a disciple at the Fourth Stage, was too slow to react. A black-robed assassin appeared behind him, his poisoned short sword slicing through the disciple's protective Qi and embedding itself in his back. The disciple collapsed, his face turning a sickly purple, his life extinguished before he even hit the ground.
The disciplined formation of the sect disciples immediately dissolved into a chaotic, swirling melee.
"Defensive perimeter! Now!" Li Yu's voice cut through the chaos, not with the authority of an elder, but with the practiced calm of a leader from practicing with his friends.
His three friends, drilled for this exact scenario for weeks, reacted instantly. Brother Kai stomped his foot, and with a low growl, a thick, solid wall of earth erupted from the ground, forming a perfect, semi-circular barrier that protected their small group from the initial assault. Hu Jian stood before it, his flaming saber a roaring deterrent, while Lin Tao's water whips shot out like striking serpents, pulling back a disciple who had been separated from the main group.
Their small, four-man cell was an island of perfect, unshakable order in a sea of chaos.
Li Yu stood in the center, his black staff a blur. He did not engage in flashy, powerful attacks. He became the group's anchor, his role purely defensive. An assassin, seeing him as the weakest link, slipped past Hu Jian's fiery assault and lunged, his poisoned blade aimed at Li Yu's throat.
Li Yu's expression did not change. He did not dodge. He simply moved his staff in a slow, graceful arc. «Flowing Water, Enduring Mountain». The staff met the assassin's blade not with a clash, but with a soft, yielding touch. The immense force of the lunge was not blocked; it was redirected, guided harmlessly into the empty air. The assassin, his balance completely broken, stumbled forward.
In that moment of weakness, Li Yu's grip on the staff shifted. «The Serpent's Coil». The black staff became a living thing, coiling around the assassin's sword arm, trapping it in an unbreakable lock. With a sharp, precise twist, Li Yu disarmed the man, sending his poisoned blade flying, and with a final, fluid shove, sent him stumbling directly into the path of Hu Jian's roaring, fiery saber.
The entire exchange was a masterpiece of defensive, martial artistry. It was not the victory of a powerful cultivator, but of a skilled, patient, and utterly unflappable warrior.
The battle raged around them. The sect disciples were powerful, but the assassins were masters of their environment. They used the trees, the shadows, and their own silent, deadly techniques to devastating effect. Another two disciples fell, their lives claimed by a poisoned blade from an unseen foe.
Elder Ma roared in fury, his fists glowing with a powerful, earthen light as he pulverized an assassin who got too close. But his rage made him reckless. He charged into the forest after a fleeing shadow, leaving his own disciples exposed.
It was Elder Feng who finally turned the tide. She stood in the center of the chaos, her expression a mask of cold fury. She raised a single, slender finger. "Law of the Sect: a debt of blood must be repaid in kind. Blade Prison of a Thousand Judgments!"
She brought her finger down. The very air around them seemed to solidify. A thousand shimmering, ethereal blades, each one humming with the profound, law-infused energy of a Foundation Establishment expert, materialized from nothing. They formed a swirling, inescapable vortex of death that swept through the forest.
The black-robed assassins, for all their skill and stealth, could not escape a power that targeted not just their bodies, but their very existence. Screams of terror and pain echoed for a single, brief moment before being silenced forever.
When the light faded, the forest was silent once more. The battle was over.
The disciples gathered, their faces pale, their numbers now reduced by three. Elder Ma returned from his reckless charge, his face a mask of grim frustration. His faction had suffered the most, losing two of its members due to his momentary lapse in leadership.
Elder Feng's cold, hard gaze swept over the survivors. It lingered for a moment on Su Ling, whose elegant ice arts had protected her and her two teammates perfectly. It lingered longer on Li Yu's group, the only other unit to have survived the ambush completely unscathed.
She walked over to them, her eyes examining the perfect, earthen wall that Brother Kai had created, the scorch marks from Hu Jian's saber, and the lingering, humid presence of Lin Tao's water arts. Finally, her gaze fell upon Li Yu, who stood, his staff held loosely in his hand, his breathing the calmest of anyone present.
"You fought well, Disciple Li," she said, her voice a simple statement of fact. "Your team's coordination was good. You have saved the lives of several of your fellow disciples today as well during the fighting."
It was the highest praise she could give.
Li Yu simply bowed. "We only did our duty, Elder."