For a breath, no one spoke.
The courtyard was quiet—only the soft burble of the spirit spring, the faint creak of the ancient pine in the night wind, and the fading warmth of Fire Dao lines that had just been stirred to wakefulness.
Then Qin Xingxuan bowed.
She didn't merely incline her head. She rose to her knees on the stone slab and lowered her body until her forehead touched the cold blue rock.
"…Thank you," she said softly, voice steady despite the strain roughening it. "For guiding us here."
Her heart pounded.
Fire wasn't her natural path. She had never thought of herself as someone "in tune" with flame. But that image he had given her—the little lantern in the snow, stubbornly burning against the wind—that was her. He'd held up that mirror and said, this is fire too.
He'd shown her how to light it.
Murong Zi clicked her tongue.
"Hey—Xingxuan, what are you doing?" she muttered, scrambling up as if the stone beneath her knees had suddenly become molten. "If you kneel like that I'll look ungrateful if I don't."
Her spear clattered beside her as she fumbled with it. Then she dropped it entirely, the weapon rolling away across the slab as she bowed as well, forehead touching the stone right next to Qin Xingxuan's.
She tried to sound casual.
She failed.
"…Thank you," she said, the words coming out rougher, hoarser than she'd intended. "For trusting me with something like this."
Bai Jingyun hesitated the longest.
Her fingers were still curled around her sword hilt. The thin red-gold line at the blade's edge buzzed faintly, like a newly sharpened edge eager to cut.
She exhaled slowly.
Then she moved.
Her bow was precise, posture straight, as if she were saluting a sect master rather than a single man sitting under a pine.
"Guest Instructor," she said quietly, head lowered. "For allowing us to step onto this road… this Bai is deeply grateful."
Ren Ming looked at the three bowed figures in front of him.
Murong Zi—who laughed too loudly, charged too fast, and never hid the heat in her chest.
Bai Jingyun—whose pride was like cold water poured over red-hot metal, tempering it to a hard, quiet brilliance.
Qin Xingxuan—who walked every step like she was carrying a mountain and never once asked to set it down.
His smile eased, becoming something softer.
"All three of you, lift your heads," he said.
They did, slowly.
He didn't move from where he sat beneath the pine. He simply tilted his head, studying them in turn. Lantern light painted soft shadows at the corners of his eyes.
"First," he said, "you don't owe me that much for this."
Murong Zi stared.
"Don't—owe you?" she repeated blankly. "You just shoved us into Fire Laws and Martial Intent in a single night."
"If I hadn't," Ren replied mildly, "you would have reached it later. The talent was already there. I just pointed you at the right door and gave it a little push."
He lifted his hand, ticking them off on his fingers.
"Murong Zi—your spear-heart was blazing from the first day I saw you. If you didn't touch the Concept of Fire's first layer sooner or later, that would be strange."
Murong Zi's face flushed a shade that had nothing to do with flame.
"B-barely," she muttered. "If I'd followed the Martial House manuals, I'd still be flailing around practicing 'explosive thrust number three' in a corner."
Ren's lips tipped up.
"Jingyun," he continued, turning his gaze. "Your sword's been trying to cut the Dao since long before I showed up. You've just been too polite about it. That precision of yours is perfect for compressing flame. Once you saw it, you didn't hesitate at all."
Bai Jingyun's heartbeat jumped.
Her eyes dropped.
"…You exaggerate," she said quietly. "If you hadn't… translated the Dao into something I could understand, my sword would still be swinging at empty air."
"And Xingxuan," Ren said softly.
Qin Xingxuan straightened instinctively at the sound of her name.
"You've always had a stubborn heart," Ren said. "The kind that burns whether anyone sees it or not. Turning that into fire was just a matter of putting a mirror in front of you."
He shrugged lazily.
"So if you really want to give credit, I'll take eighty percent." His grin flashed quick and warm. "You three can fight over the remaining twenty."
Murong Zi choked.
Bai Jingyun actually let out a tiny laugh, almost instantly suppressed.
Qin Xingxuan's lips, which so rarely moved without conscious effort, curved just a fraction.
"…Guest Instructor is shameless," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
"Mm. I've been told that," Ren said cheerfully. "But it seems my shamelessness gets results, so I'll keep it."
The warmth that settled over the stone slabs then had nothing to do with Fire Dao.
For a few breaths, they simply sat in it—the afterglow of comprehension, the shared awareness that they'd all taken a step they'd chased in dreams without knowing its shape.
Ren let them have that silence.
Then he clapped once, lightly.
"All right," he said. "Sentiment break over. Time for the practical part."
Murong Zi blinked.
"The practical… part?"
Ren leaned back on his hands, gaze drifting to the spirit spring. The water reflected the nighttime arrays in thin lines of light, like stars sunk into a deep well.
"You've condensed the first trace of Fire Laws," he said. "You've touched Fire Martial Intent. That's the start—not the finish."
His tone shifted.
Still relaxed, still that easy drawl, but with a steady weight underneath. The same weight he used when he told disciples to break their meridians and rebuild them.
"Laws and Intent that are only birthed in a courtyard," he said, "will always be soft. They need to be thrown into real flame. Blood, killing intent, danger that bites your neck. Only then will they stop being borrowed light and become your own."
Murong Zi's hands tightened around her spear shaft.
Bai Jingyun's gaze sharpened, as if focusing on something far beyond the courtyard walls.
Qin Xingxuan's breath slowed, growing deeper.
Ren watched their faces.
"I'm going to take you into life-and-death situations," he said plainly. "Not this very breath—you still need to stabilize what you just touched. But soon. I won't coddle you. I won't step in for every little cut or bruise."
He smiled.
"But I also won't send you anywhere I'm not sure you can handle with a few narrow escapes."
Murong Zi's eyes burned.
"Good," she said, almost before he'd finished. "If you thought we'd flinch at 'life-and-death,' you really haven't been paying attention."
Bai Jingyun inhaled, then bowed her head a little.
"…To temper Martial Intent in blood and battle," she said softly, "is something any martial artist should desire. If Guest Instructor is willing to guide our steps, this Bai would be ungrateful to refuse."
Qin Xingxuan met his eyes.
There was fear in hers.
There always would be. Calm did not mean she was made of stone.
But under the fear pulsed the steady warmth of that lantern in the snow.
"If we only cultivate in comfort," she said quietly, "then the day a true storm comes, we will break. I… don't want to break."
Ren looked at her for a long moment, then nodded once.
"Good answer," he said.
His gaze slid over the three, and his expression lightened again, the heavy weight of Dao talk lifting like clouds scattered by wind.
"Before I throw you into the meat grinder," he added, "there's something else."
Murong Zi eyed him warily.
"You say that like it's not also terrifying."
"This one isn't terrifying," Ren said. His grin took on a familiar teasing curve. "At worst, it's a little embarrassing."
He gestured around them.
"My courtyard's environment is better than most of the Martial House," he said simply. "The arrays overhead compress heaven and earth origin energy; the spirit spring's vein runs deeper than the ones under the training fields. And I've been using Fire Martial Intent here long enough that the place remembers a little of it."
He rolled his shoulder lazily.
"If you want to consolidate what you just gained as quickly as possible, staying here to meditate for a while would help. A night, a few nights. However much you can stomach."
The three of them froze.
Ren's smile turned softer.
"…That said," he went on, tone gentling, "I know that's a pretty big step. Staying overnight in a man's courtyard means a lot in this place. If it feels like too much, too fast, you can say no. I won't push. There are other ways to stabilize Law comprehension."
He chuckled.
"Cultivation first. Reputation only matters if you're alive to enjoy it. But your hearts matter more than either. I don't want you making a choice that leaves a knot there later."
He meant it.
They could hear it in his voice. For all his teasing, he wasn't dangling a favor, wasn't trading "chance" for obedience. The doorway was open. They could walk through or not.
Murong Zi's ears turned scarlet.
"W-what do you mean, 'staying overnight…'" she blurted, then trailed off, eyes darting toward the spirit spring, the pine, the low table where rumors said Na Yi and Na Shui had… floated.
Her heart kicked against her ribs.
Bai Jingyun's fingers tensed on her sword hilt, knuckles paling, then slowly relaxed. She lifted her chin, expression as composed as she could make it.
"…If it is solely for cultivation," she said, voice thinner than usual, "and Guest Instructor does not intend to… overstep… then this Bai has no reason to refuse."
Her face was nearly as red as Murong Zi's.
Qin Xingxuan swallowed.
She thought of Na Yi and Na Shui returning from this courtyard with their eyes softened by some warmth she didn't quite understand. She thought of that lantern in the snow, cupped between her hands while the wind howled.
"I…" she began, then stopped.
Ren watched her calmly.
"Speak," he said, not unkindly.
Qin Xingxuan exhaled slowly.
"…I trust you," she said, voice small but clear. "If you say this place will help us walk this path more steadily… I want to stay."
Ren's smile deepened, something warm and proud moving behind his eyes.
"Then it's settled," he said easily. "You three will cultivate here tonight."
He lifted a hand, then paused deliberately.
"And don't worry," he added, grin turning crooked. "I'm not going to toss you straight onto my bed and pounce on you. I do have some self-control."
Murong Zi let out a strangled sound.
"Wh-why would you say it like that?!" she demanded, face now a full shade past crimson.
Bai Jingyun coughed so hard it almost sounded like she was choking.
Qin Xingxuan's ears went bright red, and she stared rigidly at a point somewhere near his left shoulder.
Ren laughed, low and pleased.
"There," he said. "Now the awkward part's out of the way. Sit down. Cross your legs the same way as before. Let your hearts settle. We'll use the rest of the night to let your Fire Laws sink into your bones."
They obeyed.
This time, the atmosphere was different.
Earlier it had been the dizzy, fragile edge of sudden enlightenment. Now that edge had softened into something steadier—an awareness of trust, of a road they'd stepped onto together.
Murong Zi sat closest to the spirit spring, where the rising mist carried fine threads of Fire element from deep underground.
Bai Jingyun chose a spot beneath the pine's shadow, where the air was calm and undisturbed, perfect for listening to the whisper of Law lines.
Qin Xingxuan sat facing the courtyard gate, as if keeping watch even in meditation.
Ren settled among them, not directly at the center this time, but a little off to the side, where he could see all three faces with a turn of his head.
"Close your eyes," he murmured. "Let the rune-wheel you formed earlier spin at your back. Don't force it. Just breathe and let it breathe with you."
The night slowly deepened.
Above, thin streams of origin energy flowed along the array lines he'd carved into the sky. Fire essence threaded through them like red-gold snakes, gathering and dispersing in patterns only someone at his level would fully see.
Behind each girl, a red-gold rune-wheel slowly unfolded—Fire Martial Intent. Within its field, every trace of flame—true essence fire, the warmth of blood vitality, even the faint spark of will in their martial hearts—was compressed, purified, and pushed to burn at a higher order.
Murong Zi's spear-intent flared again and again, too wild, then steadier, then thinner, like an unruly blaze being hammered into a spearhead.
Bai Jingyun's sword-intent ran along the edge of flame, shaving away everything unnecessary. The fire around her grew thinner and sharper, condensing into a narrow film at her blade's edge.
Qin Xingxuan's lantern-light was the quietest. A tiny ember in the snow grew into a steady glow, warmth leaking out of her heart and along her meridians, seeping into old wounds in her body and Dao Heart both.
Ren didn't interfere much.
Sometimes he reached out to tap a shoulder or a wrist, nudging their circulation a hair to the left, a breath lower, a heartbeat slower. Sometimes he simply watched, Immortal Soul Bone parsing every shift, Ancient Ming Bloodline quietly filtering stray heaven-and-earth impurities that might have bitten too deeply.
Hours passed.
The sky went from deep blue-black to the color of old ink. The spirit spring's surface steamed faintly as Fire essence accumulated. The pine's needles shivered, glittering with Dao light.
By the time the eastern horizon paled, the three women opened their eyes again.
The fire around them had changed.
Murong Zi's spear intent burned steadier, the "too wild" edges trimmed by a night of breathing in rhythm with Fire Dao. When she tightened her grip, flame gathered down the shaft as if it had always lived there.
Bai Jingyun's gaze, when it slid to her sword, held a new familiarity—as if she were greeting an old friend whose true name she had finally learned.
Qin Xingxuan's aura was quiet as ever, but every breath she took now softly tugged at the Fire element in the courtyard, like a tide pulling at embers.
Ren stretched, rolling his shoulders lazily.
"Not bad," he said, satisfaction clear in his voice. "You didn't waste the night."
Murong Zi rubbed at her chest.
"…Feels like I burned from the inside out," she muttered. "But… it also feels… good?"
Bai Jingyun nodded once.
"When I circulate true essence," she admitted, "the Fire essence responds faster. As if… a door that was stuck before has loosened."
Qin Xingxuan simply bowed.
"Thank you," she said again, quietly.
Ren flicked her forehead lightly.
"Ow," she said, more surprised than hurt.
"No more 'thank you,'" he said, amused. "From here on, you're going to earn the rest yourselves."
He looked at all three, then let his smile fade just a fraction.
"Tonight was foundation," he said. "Soon… we move on to combat."
The words lingered in the air like distant thunder.
...
The next morning, Sky Fortune City woke beneath a pale, clear sky. Arrays over the Martial House shimmered faintly, catching the first light of dawn.
Ren allowed the three another day of rest to become fully accustomed to their Fire Laws and Fire Martial Intent. He watched them from a distance as they moved through basic spear forms, sword drills, and breathing patterns. Fire now threaded naturally through every motion—no longer an external thing, but part of them.
By the time the sun had climbed past mid-morning, he had already made up his mind.
At that moment, the courtyard door slid open.
Na Yi stepped in first—hair tied high, sword at her waist, eyes already sharp. Na Shui followed half a step behind, clutching a tray with breakfast, a hint of pink lingering on her cheeks when her gaze brushed the stone slabs where Murong Zi and the others had meditated all night.
Behind them, three more figures approached together.
Murong Zi, spear slung across her back, walked in with the easy stride of someone who had won a war in her dreams.
Bai Jingyun's robe was immaculate, not a single fold out of place, but there was a faint, unfamiliar looseness at the corners of her eyes.
Qin Xingxuan's posture was as straight as ever, yet something in her aura had sunk even deeper—like a quiet pool whose surface now reflected stars as well as the sky.
"Morning," Ren called, voice warm. "You all look like you're more fired up."
Murong Zi snorted. "My meridians still feel like you stuffed burning coals into them."
Na Shui set the tray down with a soft clink.
"Master's 'gentle guidance' is terrifying as usual," she muttered under her breath, though the complaint was softened by the way her fingers lingered on the teapot's handle.
Bai Jingyun coughed lightly, the corner of her mouth twitching.
"The Fire Laws we touched that night…" she said quietly, "the first level of Burning Heat… it feels different now."
Ren's gaze tilted toward her, amused.
"If it still felt the same," he said, "I'd have to ask for my effort back."
Qin Xingxuan's lips curved, just a fraction.
"…When I circulate true essence," she said, "the Fire essence responds on its own. It's like… the world finally acknowledged me."
Na Yi watched them, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"So," she said, "that night really was as ridiculous as it sounded."
Na Shui elbowed her softly.
"Sister, you say that like you weren't just as bad after the pagoda worlds," she whispered.
Ren clapped his hands lightly.
"All right," he said, smile deepening as he looked over all five of them. "Since everyone's awake and glowing, I think it's time."
He let a heartbeat of silence stretch, making them lean forward without realizing it.
"First," he went on, "remapping your meridians, tearing down and rebuilding your breathing patterns, forcing you to taste Laws and compress your Fire Martial Intent—good work, all of you. Really."
Murong Zi puffed up slightly despite herself. Bai Jingyun's fingers tightened around her sleeve. Qin Xingxuan's eyes lowered.
Na Yi folded her arms, watching him with a faint, knowing half-smile. Na Shui's gaze was softer, curious.
Ren's smile turned a shade sharper.
"But today," he said, "is when you all step far out of this little pond."
Murong Zi's eyes lit up immediately.
"Step far out…?" she repeated, already almost bouncing. "Where are we going?"
Ren's grin turned crooked.
"Like I told you girls before, you need something dangerous," he said. "So we're going to the South Sea."
His gaze flicked toward the horizon, as if he could already see waves breaking.
"Periphery of the Demon Territory," he continued. "There are plenty of small demon sect outposts and roaming bands there that the great sects don't bother cleaning up. Perfect tempering stones."
Bai Jingyun's expression sharpened, any trace of soft confusion vanishing.
"South Sea Demon Territory…" she murmured. "Demonic cultivators…"
Qin Xingxuan's brows drew together.
"Is it… not too soon?" she asked quietly. "The South Sea—"
Ren raised a hand, cutting her off gently.
"It's perfect for you right now," he said. "The road you five are walking isn't meant to end at a pond's edge."
His gaze slid over each of them in turn.
"Na Yi, Na Shui—you already know. With your current foundations, staying wrapped in cotton is more dangerous than killing a few hundred demons."
Na Yi's lips curved, sharp and satisfied.
"Of course," she said. "If we can't even handle that much, we might as well crawl back into the lower worlds and apologize to the Dao."
Na Shui shivered, but her eyes shone.
"…If it's with you, Master," she said softly, "I'm not afraid."
Ren looked at the Heavenly Abode trio.
"And you three," he added, "you've already stepped onto the path where 'I'm just a Martial House disciple' stops being an excuse."
Murong Zi straightened unconsciously.
Bai Jingyun's hand tightened on her sword hilt.
Qin Xingxuan's breath caught.
Ren's smile thinned.
"The South Sea has a reputation," he said calmly. "That's good. Infamy scares cowards away, so the people who remain are the ones you should learn to kill. And anyone too troublesome for you all wanting to interfere will simply be killed by me."
His tone didn't change.
But something cold slid through the air as he said it, like a shadow falling over the sun.
Na Yi's eyes half-closed. Na Shui's breath hitched. Murong Zi felt her blood stir in a very different way.
Bai Jingyun's fingers trembled once before she controlled them. Qin Xingxuan felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand up.
In that instant, the smiling, relaxed man in front of them overlapped with something else—the kind of existence that would ignore sect banners, noble titles, and ancestral backings and simply crush whatever stood in his way.
Then Ren chuckled.
The killing intent vanished like it had never existed.
"For now," he said, "eat. You'll need the energy."
Murong Zi stared.
"…It's actually more unnerving when you switch back like that," she muttered.
Na Shui giggled behind her hand.
Na Yi's lips quirked.
Bai Jingyun found herself… smiling as well, though she quickly hid it behind her teacup. Qin Xingxuan's shoulders, which had been tense, relaxed by a hair.
They ate.
Simple food—porridge, steamed buns, pickled vegetables and dried meat—under the humming arrays. The ordinary flavors grounded them more than any lecture could.
When the bowls were empty and the teapot was half-drained, Ren rose.
"Stand," he said.
They did.
Na Yi and Na Shui moved to his left and right almost by habit. Murong Zi took a half-step forward, spear already in hand. Bai Jingyun tilted her sword at a slant, the gesture precise. Qin Xingxuan's palms were faintly damp, but her gaze was steady.
Ren exhaled.
Fire Martial Intent bloomed.
Behind him, a red-gold rune-wheel unfolded, its spokes tracing invisible Law lines through the air. Within its field, every trace of heat—the warmth of their breath, the faint fire essence in the spring, the hidden magma buried deep below—stirred and aligned.
"Stay close," he said. "Don't resist."
The rune-wheel spun.
The world twisted.
For a breath, the courtyard seemed to stretch—lines of Dao bending like molten metal drawn along invisible channels. Fire essence in the surroundings condensed at a single point, then exploded outward again, dragging space along with it.
Heat rushed over their skin.
The scent of salt slammed into their noses.
The next instant, the stone beneath their feet was no longer Ren's blue courtyard slabs.
It was dark, weathered rock veined with strange ores, jutting out like a broken fang over a vast expanse of sea.
Before them, the South Sea stretched to the horizon.
Waves crashed against jagged reefs, throwing up sprays of white foam. Farther out, in the mist-heavy distance, dark silhouettes of islands pierced the sea fog—some small and barren, others crowned with faint, sinister lights and drifting banners. The air here was thicker, tinged with a subtle, foul undertone: demonic true essence, long accustomed to burning mortals and cultivators alike.
Murong Zi's jaw dropped.
"…We… really just teleported," she whispered. "With… just your Fire Laws?"
Ren smiled.
"Fire is change," he said. "The world's Dao is a pattern. Once you burn that pattern into your bones, you can push on it."
He didn't bother to explain further.
With his Immortal Soul Bone, Twelve Fate Palaces, universal travel art, and perfected Fire Laws woven together, folding a bit of distance inside a single world barely counted as a warm-up.
Na Shui hugged herself briefly, eyes wide as they took in the endless sea.
"…It's beautiful," she murmured.
Na Yi narrowed her gaze, already scanning the horizon.
"Beautiful things," she said softly, "are very good at hiding rot underneath."
Ren hummed in agreement.
"Speaking of rot," he said lightly, "look over there."
He lifted a hand.
Far along the rocky coast, a thin plume of black smoke curled into the sky. Below it, the faint outlines of boats and a cluster of shabby wooden structures clung to a crescent bay like barnacles.
Through Ren's perception, the scene unfolded in precise clarity.
A small fishing village.
Mortals herded into a central square, kneeling, faces gray with terror.
Several figures in dark red and black robes, demonic true essence swirling around them like twisted shadows. Their realms weren't high—most at early to mid Pulse Condensation and Bone Forging, some still stuck below—but to these mortals, they were gods.
One of them had just raised his hand, dark crimson light gathering in his palm.
Ren's eyes cooled.
"Minor demon sect raiding party," he said. "They like blood sacrifices. They won't be missed."
Murong Zi's fingers tightened around her spear until her knuckles whitened.
Bai Jingyun's expression went very, very still.
Qin Xingxuan's heart pounded.
"Ren—" Na Yi began.
He shook his head slightly.
"I'll block anyone stronger than Houtian from interfering," he said calmly. "But the ones already in that village?"
His gaze slid to the three Heavenly Abode girls.
"They're yours."
Murong Zi inhaled sharply.
"All of them?" she asked.
"This is how you temper Fire," Ren said. "You've touched the first level—Burning Heat. You've tasted what it means for flame to respond when you breathe. But unless you burn real things, kill real people, your fire will stay polite."
He smiled faintly.
"Today, you burn demons."
Na Shui swallowed, eyes flickering between the distant village and Ren.
Na Yi's eyes narrowed in satisfaction. "We'll hold the line outside," she said. "If anything with a higher cultivation than Early Houtian shows their face, they're mine."
Ren nodded.
"You two guard the edges," he said. "Break legs, not necks. Let the three of them handle the killing today."
Na Yi inclined her head. Na Shui took a slow breath, steadying herself.
Ren turned back to the Heavenly Abode trio.
"You walk in," he said quietly. "You decide who dies first. You decide how your Fire answers this."
Murong Zi's throat worked.
Bai Jingyun's pulse hammered in her ears.
Qin Xingxuan felt sweat dampen her palms, even though the sea wind was cold.
Ren didn't raise his voice.
He didn't flood them with his own aura.
He simply stood at their backs, a presence like a mountain that had already decided it would not fall on them—but would not move forward for them either.
"Go," he said.
...
They approached under the cover of a low, rolling mist.
Ren flicked his fingers, and the Fire essence in the air twisted. Heat shimmered rose from the sea surface, thickening into a mirage that blurred their presence at a distance while leaving the path before them clear.
Na Yi and Na Shui ghosted ahead, steps light on the jagged rocks, true essence suppressed to the limit. Behind them, Murong Zi, Bai Jingyun, and Qin Xingxuan followed—breathing deep, letting their Fire Martial Intent slowly turn.
The screams reached them first.
High and raw and human.
Then the smell.
Blood. Burnt wood. The ugly, rancid tang of demonic cultivation methods that ignored balance and devoured everything, like rot crawling under skin.
Murong Zi's teeth ground together.
Qin Xingxuan's hands clenched on her spear shaft.
Bai Jingyun's fingers flexed once on her sword hilt, then stilled.
They reached the lip of the bay.
Below, the scene unfolded in full.
A robed demonic cultivator had seized a fisherman by the throat, lifting him into the air. Black-red true essence coiled around his arm, etching eerie lines into his skin.
"This is the fate of those who refuse tribute," he drawled, voice oily and amused. "Your sons, your daughters, your wives… all of them belong to Blood Sand Hall now. Your lives are grace. Your deaths are offerings."
A girl barely in her teens clung to her mother's sleeve, eyes swollen from crying. A child of five trembled so hard his teeth clacked, his tiny hands pressed over his ears.
Murong Zi's spear tip scraped rock.
Ren's voice drifted to them, calm as if they were standing in the training fields.
"Na Yi. Na Shui. Circle around," he said. "Fence the bay. If any rats try to run, break their legs and toss them back inside."
"Yes," Na Yi answered, eyes flashing.
Na Shui nodded, swallowing once. "We'll keep the trash from interrupting," she said, voice soft but steady.
Ren's gaze turned to the three young women.
"You three," he said, "walk forward. Let your Fire answer this."
Murong Zi moved first.
Of course she did.
She walked down the slope without hiding her presence, spear resting on her shoulder, hair whipping in the sea wind.
Bai Jingyun and Qin Xingxuan followed, shoulders level, steps steady.