The noble girl didn't move fast enough.
Her sword lifted—but her stance was wrong, balance off, breath still catching.
The stag's antlers descended like a guillotine.
"Move!"
The maid moved, slamming into her partner's side.
She stumbled back—just far enough.
But there was no more time left for the maid to dodge.
She met the blow head-on.
There was a sharp, tearing sound.
A spray of blood.
And for a breath—
Riven saw a different face in front of him.
Not the pale clearing. Not the stag.
A child.
Seven, maybe. Dark hair streaked with pale blue and green, plastered to her tear-streaked cheeks. Her small hands reaching forward, while her body fell back, eyes wide in raw, animal fear.
She screamed as darkness closed in from above and below him.
A cavernous maw. Rows of teeth.
Closing on his outstretched right arm —
That had just pushed her aside —
And then—
Gone.
A crushing snap.
Hot pain.
The world swallowing him whole.
A scream tore through the memory—
And he was back.
Back in the clearing.
The maid hadn't been swallowed.
But the antlers had pierced straight through her chest.
His breath hitched. For a second, he wasn't sure which present he was standing in — the screams too close. He blinked, once, hard. The past receded.
The antlers jutted out from the maids back in a burst of red, pinning her upright for a heartbeat that felt like eternity.
Her lips parted. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth.
And the noble girl's scream echoed through the trees.
For half a heartbeat, everything froze.
Riven's mind was still half in the past, the phantom ache of a severed limb screaming up a memory that wasn't here—
But Yue Lin moved.
Her blade flashed past him as she burst from the trees, the spectral chain snapping taut behind her.
"Riven!"
That pulled him fully back.
The stag wrenched its head sideways, flinging the maid's body free. She hit the ground hard, rolled once, and didn't get back up.
The noble girl screamed her name and ran to her, dropping to her knees in the dirt. Blood soaked through white fabric in seconds, spreading fast and dark.
Riven didn't let himself look.
He shot forward, five steps, then three—his fingers already slipping a needle free. Qi coiled around it, thinner than before but sharp, focused.
The stag turned, antlers lowering again—wounded, enraged.
It charged.
Yue Lin intercepted first, blade slashing across its flank to draw its focus. The cut wasn't deep, but it was enough to redirect the beast's momentum.
"Now!" she barked.
Riven flicked his wrist.
The needle vanished mid-flight, velvet-wrapped and silent. It sank into the stag's shoulder without a sound.
He pulsed.
The internal detonation rippled through muscle. The beast staggered, legs buckling for a split second.
Yue Lin capitalized instantly—her sword driving into its exposed side, carving a deeper wound.
Still, it didn't fall.
Behind them, the noble girl was sobbing, hands pressed to the maid's chest.
"Stay with me—stay—"
The maid's fingers twitched weakly.
Then stilled.
Her life lost before she had even fully grown up.
Then a pulse came from inbetween her and the noble girl.
Riven split a bit of attention to check out what was happening.
That's when he saw it.
Between the two girls, the spectral chain that had shimmered faintly before suddenly flared bright—blinding, sharp.
The noble girl looked down.
"What—?"
The chain snapped taut.
Once.
Twice.
Then it constricted.
Around their waists.
Through her.
A thin line of light cut across her midsection as the chain drew inward, as if pulled by unseen hands, before disappearing in a blob of gray light.
For a breath, nothing happened.
Then blood welled along that glowing seam.
The noble girl's eyes widened—not in pain, but in realization.
"No—"
Her body separated cleanly where the light had passed.
She didn't even finish the word.
Both halves fell in opposite directions, white robes staining red before they hit the forest floor.
Silence.
Yue Lin at the side froze.
Even the stag, half-limping and bleeding, gave a strangled huff.
A cold rush slammed into Riven's spine and spread outward like ice water poured directly into his veins.
His pupils dillating as he looked at the severed half of the now dead noble girl.
But before he could fully recover the stag had already moved, seemingly less affected by the scene than both Riven and Yue Lin.
It dashed forward again, targeting Riven.
Riven's jaw tightened.
"End it," he said.
He stepped forward into its charge, dropping low, hand sweeping across the ground.
Another needle, already primed with qi, flicked into his fingers.
The beast loomed—antlers gleaming, hooves pounding the earth.
He threw.
It struck just beneath the jaw, vanishing into flesh.
Then he pulsed.
The detonation wasn't large. But it was precise.
The stag's limbs buckled mid-charge, a shudder running through its frame as it stumbled, momentum breaking. Yue Lin was already there, blade flashing in an upward arc that carved deep into its neck.
A crack of bone. A spray of red.
The beast's head twisted one last time—then slumped forward.
Its body hit the ground with a heavy, final thud.
Yue Lin stumbled slightly as it fell, breath ragged. A shallow cut ran across her shoulder where one of the antler tips had grazed her — not deep, but bleeding steadily.
Her eyes looked a little glazed over.
Riven exhaled, long and low.
He felt it—his pulse still hammering too hard in his ears, the tremor that lingered in his fingers not from exhaustion, but from everything else.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved, just staring ahead blindly.
Then, slowly, they both turned.
Their boots crunched through the blood-muddied clearing as they walked toward the fallen girls.
The maid's body hadn't shifted. Her expression, oddly peaceful. As if her last thought had been relief.
The noble girl's body, though—
Split.
A clean divide.
Yue Lin stared down at her for a long moment.
Then quietly reached her hand out.
Her eyes no longer glazed over as her fingers brushed against the girl's, then curled around a delicate silver ring — it had an almost faintly glowing sword insignia, now dulled slightly by blood. The emblem of the Knight's Order.
She tugged.
The ring slid free.
And without a word, Yue Lin slipped it onto her own finger.
Riven blinked, caught somewhere between surprise and something colder.
Yue Lin didn't flinch. Her gaze stayed on the ring as it settled in place, her lips pressed in a thin line.
It was practical. Just like always.
They were dead now. They didn't need their things.
Back with the bandits, she'd been the first to loot bodies. Even at the entrance of the trial, she'd collected from the dead without hesitation. Sometimes, Riven forgot how clearly she saw the line between life and death — how cleanly she stepped over it.
Especially when she smiled.
When she tucked her hair behind her ear in the middle of a joke. When she laughed, just slightly, at something dumb he'd said.
Now she was quiet again.
Practical again.
Riven turned toward the maid's body, kneeling halfway down, one hand hesitating over her waist.
He stayed like that for a second.
Then glanced sideways. "You check."
But Yue Lin didn't answer.
Her eyes were still on the ring.
Unmoving.
"This is... a spatial ring," Yue Lin said at last, voice low.
Riven turned, blinking. "What?"
She didn't look at him. Just turned her hand slightly, the ring catching faint light. "I'm sure of it. It's faint, but the engraving's right."
Riven stepped closer. "But don't you need to use spiritual sense to activate those?"
"Yes," she said simply. "But I'm still sure. And judging by the lack of anything else on her body, I'm almost certain she could use it."
Riven just stared at her.
"…But that's not possible."
Spiritual sense—
That was something cultivators only awakened deeper into their path. They certainly couldn't use it in the Inner Condensation Realm. And those girls hadn't felt stronger than he or Yue Lin. In fact. They were weaker.
He turned back toward the maid, now frowning.
Curiosity trumped shyness. He knelt down again, focused this time, searching carefully — sleeves, waist, belt.
Nothing.
No pouch. No tools. No weapons aside from the one sword. Not even a damn coin.
"She doesn't have anything," he muttered.
He turned to look back at Yue Lin, his gaze meeting hers.