Malice hit them like a wall.
The closer they flew, the thicker it became—a reeking tide of blood true essence, clotted and heavy, pressing against their skin and seeping into their pores. The air above the island shimmered faintly red, as if the sky itself had been stained.
Ren Ming's group descended through it in silence.
The island below was not large. Black stone jutted out of the dark sea like a rotten tooth. At its center, a crude altar rose, piled with bones and half-rotted corpses. Torches of black flame ringed it, their warped light bending shadows into unnatural shapes.
The flames did not flicker with any ordinary wind. They bent with the breath of demonic true essence.
On a raised platform near the altar, a man in blood-red robes sat cross-legged.
He was not young—streaks of gray ran through his hair—but his eyes were bright and cruel. Years of slaughter had carved lines at the corners of his mouth, not from laughter, but from the habit of sneering. Demonic true essence surged around him in heavy waves. Behind his back, a distorted phantom of a blood lake flickered into view, its surface thick and viscous. Countless pale arms reached from that lake, grasping, clawing, sinking back down.
Middle Houtian.
Even without Ren saying anything, Murong Zi, Bai Jingyun, and Qin Xingxuan understood what they were facing. A middle Houtian cultivation, a step into the General level of the Martial World, where true essence condensed into a real field.
Compared to that, their own realms—Altering Muscle, Bone Forging—were simply too shallow.
On the island's edge, Na Yi and Na Shui landed lightly behind Ren. The sisters' auras sank inward almost to nothing, but for a martial artist who knew what to look for, their presence was like two swords half-drawn. True essence pulsed in deep, stable spirals; every breath compressed their power.
They could fight this man. Individually, they could crush ordinary Houtian. But they did not step forward.
The blood-robed man opened his eyes.
"Oh?" His gaze swept over them, lazy at first, then sharpening. "Five little lambs… and one wolf that's pretending to sleep."
His eyes lingered on Ren for a moment.
A faint prickle crawled up his spine. Some instinct screamed at him—danger. It was the instinct of a man who had walked on the edge of death for decades, who had crawled out of slaughterfields again and again.
Then he remembered the transmission jade on his waist, the name carved into it, the promise from his backer in the valley.
He swallowed that instinct.
The demonic cultivator snorted and looked away, convincing himself that the "wolf" was only pretending to be deep.
His attention fixed instead on the three young women standing slightly ahead of the group.
He let his perception sweep through their bodies, tasting their blood vitality and true essence.
"Altering Muscle." His gaze slid over Murong Zi and Qin Xingxuan. "Altering Muscle."
Then to Bai Jingyun.
"Bone Forging. Barely." He laughed, a grating sound echoing oddly on the island. "You dare step onto this place with such pathetic strength? Did no one tell you where you were coming?"
Murong Zi stepped forward without waiting for Ren's signal.
Her spear lifted, its shaft humming faintly as true essence poured into it. Flame patterns along the blade edge lit up one by one.
"Someone did," she said. "He said this place needed cleaning."
Qin Xingxuan and Bai Jingyun flanked her, one to the left, one to the right. Both drew their weapons—slender spear and sword—for the demonic cultivator, they were just three more martial artists from some backwater sect.
The demonic cultivator's lips twisted.
"So arrogant." He rose slowly, dust and dried blood flaking off his robes as he stood. The blood-lake phantom behind him surged higher, arms thrashing. "I had planned to continue today's sacrifice ceremony… but it seems the heavens have delivered new offerings."
He lifted his hand and pressed down.
"Blood Sea Domain."
The world changed.
A tide of thick, viscous blood poured out from beneath his feet, flooding the black stone in every direction. The bones piled on the altar sank into it without a ripple. In the space of a breath, the whole island turned into a churning sea of crimson.
Blood-True essence exploded outward.
It pressed down on their bodies like a mountain. It tried to seep into their meridians, squirming along their veins, corroding true essence and polluting it.
Na Shui hissed as the pressure hit her.
"It's like—" She coughed once, nose wrinkling. "Like wading through rot."
Na Yi's eyes narrowed, hand resting lightly on the hilt at her waist. "His domain is thick. He's burned a lot of lives into it."
Ren lifted his hand.
The sisters stopped.
"Edges only," Ren said calmly. "The center is theirs."
His tone was light, relaxed, as if he was assigning training drills, not throwing three half-step juniors into a domain that could crush them into paste.
Then his gaze moved to the three Heavenly Abode girls.
"Breathe," he said.
Murong Zi, Bai Jingyun, and Qin Xingxuan closed their eyes at the same time.
The blood sea surged toward them, eager to swallow them whole.
Fire answered.
Behind each girl, a red-gold rune-wheel spun into existence. They were similar, yet entirely different—three manifestations of Fire Martial Intent, three Dao hearts.
Murong Zi's wheel blazed hot and aggressive. Its spokes flickered like spear shadows driving through armies, each one a thrust she'd repeated a thousand times in Ren's courtyard under the moonlight.
Bai Jingyun's wheel was thin and sharp. Its lines were precise, almost delicate, each stroke like the edge of a sword. The fire that clung to it was compressed, condensed to a terrifying degree.
Qin Xingxuan's wheel burned steadily. No flashy sparks, no wild flares—just a quiet, unwavering light, like a lantern that had endured endless nights of wind and snow.
Within their fields, flames rose.
The blood sea rushed in, eager to invade, to drown.
The moment the thick, foul true essence touched those rune-wheels, it hissed.
Steam coiled up in thin, twisting columns.
The demonic cultivator's eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine surprise breaking through his arrogance.
"Fire Martial Intent?" he muttered. "At that age? At those realms? Impossible…"
Murong Zi opened her eyes.
Gold-red light burned in her pupils.
"Who cares if it's impossible?" she said, lips curling into a feral grin. "We're already here."
She stepped forward.
Her feet sank into the blood sea.
It was not water. It was pure, thickened true essence, soaked in resentment and slaughter. It clung to her legs, crawled up her skin, searching for weaknesses in her meridians.
The moment it found a path, it surged.
Rotten heat rushed into her channels, trying to corrode the foundation she had built, to overwrite her with the mark of someone else's Dao.
Her Fire Law lines responded.
The first level—Burning Heat—trembled and rose.
She'd felt it when her spear burned the air, when sweat rolled down her back, when her bones cried out from being tempered.
But this—
This was a different flame.
Her current comprehension strained against the demonic field. The blood domain was higher grade, forged from the lives of countless sacrifices. It pressed too close, its pressure like the thick sludge in a smelting furnace.
For a heartbeat, Murong Zi felt the blood true essence press right up against the core of her being.
If she faltered now, that filth would invade.
—Ren's voice echoed across her memories, lazy and light, as if he were leaning against a courtyard pillar with that irritatingly calm smile.
Fire isn't just destruction. It's the power to transform.
Murong Zi exhaled.
Her spear stabbed into the blood sea.
True essence surged out along its shaft, Fire Martial Intent blazing. Burning Heat roared, not as wild flame seeking to burn everything in its path, but as a spiral.
She twisted her wrist.
Red-gold flame spun along the spear like a vortex.
It spread through the blood, not to burn it away in one clash, but to change its nature—boiling it, evaporating it, turning clotted, oppressive waves into sharp, rising steam.
The blood sea bellowed as if in pain.
Hot crimson mist rushed upward, revealing patches of black stone beneath her feet.
"This is my battlefield," Murong Zi thought, eyes blazing. "My fire, not yours."
Her spear swept again, carving a red-gold line across the bloody surface.
Flame raced along the path her spear drew, forming a solid, glowing track that refused to sink.
"Go!" she shouted.
Bai Jingyun and Qin Xingxuan moved with her as if they had trained for this moment all their lives.
Bai Jingyun stepped onto the path Murong Zi had opened.
Every time a tendril of blood rose higher than it should, she moved.
Her sword flashed.
Her Fire Laws compressed into thinner and thinner lines, Burning Heat at the first level pushed closer to its own limit. Every drop of heat in her body and true essence was packed into a finer edge.
She did not waste strength cutting through thick waves.
She sliced the veins that guided them.
The demonic domain's pressure rose in response.
The blood-robed cultivator sneered, lifting both hands.
"Blood Wave—Devour!"
The blood sea roared.
The domain obeyed.
Waves towered above them, their crests forming distorted faces—screaming sacrifices, twisted by resentment. Each wave was heavy with corrosive intent. If those waves crashed down, it wouldn't just be flesh that broke; their Dao hearts would be torn and dragged into the lake.
Qin Xingxuan stepped forward.
Her lantern flame pulsed at her back.
She remembered standing in a field of snow—small, cold hands cupped around a pathetic little flame that refused to go out. She remembered earlier battles, villagers screaming behind her, her own fear like a knife at her throat, and her refusal to take even a half step back.
She planted her spear, its butt slamming into the black stone with a dull, anchoring sound.
"Even if the world drowns," she thought, "my fire will not go out."
Her Fire Laws deepened in that instant.
Burning Heat—the first level—shifted in her perception.
Heat was no longer just temperature. It was persistence. It was motion. It was the refusal of particles, of true essence, of a Dao heart to be still.
Her lantern flame flared red-gold. Light expanded, blanketing her, then reaching outward to touch Murong Zi and Bai Jingyun.
The blood wave crashed down.
It hit an invisible wall.
Steam erupted—not wild, not chaotic, but in a steady, controlled surge. The wave's power bled away as its energy was transformed into heat, and then into harmless vapor that billowed upward in a thick, rolling fog.
From the edge of the island, Na Shui's eyes widened.
"…She's turning the domain's power," she whispered. "Not just blocking it… she's stealing the strength inside it…"
Na Yi's gaze sharpened.
"That's Burning Heat," she murmured, "on the road to perfection."
Murong Zi laughed aloud, joy and battle intent mixing in her voice.
"Nice!"
She bent her knees and sprang.
Qin Xingxuan's stabilized field became a springboard beneath her feet. Using that compressed, steady flame as footing, Murong Zi soared, spear leveled straight at the demonic cultivator on his platform.
Flame swirled along her spear.
Where before her fire had scattered along the shaft, now it spun, spiraled, all force drawn inward to the spear tip.
The demonic cultivator snarled, slamming his palms together.
"Blood Lake Shield!"
The blood-lake phantom behind him condensed, its thick surface heaving. It lurched forward, forming a wall of viscous blood between them. Countless pale arms reached out from that shield, claws stretching for Murong Zi's spear, trying to drag it in and dissolve it.
"Break!"
Murong Zi roared.
Her spear thrust pierced forward, all of her will pouring into that single point.
For a breath, it felt like slamming into a mountain made of sludge.
Her fire spread along the shield's surface, burning, boiling, but the blood lake's depth seemed endless.
Then something clicked inside her.
In her mind, she saw again the training illusions Ren had woven for her—fields of fire, endless armies, spears piercing the sky. Before, her flames had roared like chaos, leaping in every direction.
Now that chaos swirled, organized by her spear.
Not just stabbing with fire.
Making fire spin.
Her spear tip twisted.
Red-gold fire drilled forward.
The blood shield screamed.
The reaching arms burned away, the sludge boiling and spiraling open as if someone had opened a drain at its center. The spear punched through, leaving a tunnel of evaporating blood in its wake.
The demonic cultivator's eyes widened.
"WHAT—"
He shifted his head at the last moment, avoiding the spear tip by a hair.
But Murong Zi's thrust wasn't the only blade aimed at him.
A quiet sword light flashed past his neck.
Bai Jingyun had moved in that same heartbeat.
As Murong Zi's spear shattered the shield from the front, Bai Jingyun slipped along its edge with a speed that did not draw attention. Her true essence was compressed to the limit, wrapped tightly around her blade. Fire Laws clung to the sword in a razor-thin sheath.
Her understanding of Burning Heat surged as she moved.
She had been staring at the blood sea, at the shield, at the paths the domain's power took. Now, in that instant, everything became lines—hundreds, thousands of lines, showing where force flowed, where heat gathered, where a cut would matter.
"My sword," she realized, "does not need to fight the entire domain. It only needs to cut where it matters."
Fire Intent and Fire Law overlapped perfectly for a breath.
Her sword edge became the boundary between burning and not burning.
She swung.
The demonic cultivator's head almost separated from his body.
Almost.
Demonic instincts, honed by years of clawing his way up from gutter brutality, screamed at him. He threw himself backward, spine bending in an unnatural arc.
The blade still carved deep.
Red-gold flame seared his neck, cutting flesh, nearly reaching bone. Blood sprayed, hissing as it touched the heated air.
He staggered, one hand flying to his neck. His fingers came away slick and red.
"You little beasts!"
Rage twisted his features into something inhuman.
"You want to kill me? DIE!"
Blood exploded out of him.
The blood sea roared in frenzy.
The phantom lake behind him rose higher than ever, arms thrashing wildly. He burned his own blood essence, pushing his middle Houtian cultivation to its absolute limit.
The island shook.
Cracks split the black stone beneath their feet. The blood domain's pressure multiplied, slamming down on everything living.
For an instant, even Na Yi and Na Shui felt their knees tighten.
Murong Zi's body trembled. Her ribs ached as if the pressure itself was trying to crush her bones into powder. Bai Jingyun's hands shook on her hilt, the sword feeling heavier in her grip. Qin Xingxuan's lantern flame flickered, the sea of blood's weight pressing down like a collapsing sky.
From afar, any elder watching this scene would have thought the outcome decided.
Three Altering Muscle/Bone Forging juniors against a middle Houtian who had gone mad, burning his blood and domain?
They would be crushed.
Ren did not move.
He stood at the edge of the island, clothes untouched by blood, eyes half-lidded, watching.
"Almost there," he thought. "Just a little more."
On the periphery, several demonic cultivators tried to flee the island, terrified now that their leader had been wounded. Others, seeing Ren's group, rushed in a suicidal attempt to kill or take hostages.
Na Yi took one step.
Her foot touched stone.
Modified Chaotic Virtues Combat Meridians roared to life inside her body, true essence looping through her bones like dragons. Modified Heretical God Force's inner governor opened slightly, shaping the flood into refining spirals.
A single punch from her shattered a mid Bone Forging demonic cultivator's chest, his body blasted off the island into the sea below.
Na Shui's spear swept horizontally.
Her movement was light, almost playful—but wherever her weapon passed, demonic heads flew, blood fountains cut cleanly as if they had simply decided to separate from their bodies.
They guarded the edges, cutting down anyone who dared escape or interfere.
But their auras never stepped into the center.
They trusted Ren.
They trusted the three girls.
...
Under the demonic cultivator's crushing pressure, something in each girl's Dao heart crystallized.
Murong Zi's laughter came first.
Her spear tip dipped for a heartbeat, then steadied.
"Good!" she shouted over the roar of the blood sea. "If you can't even push me like this, I'd be disappointed!"
Her Fire Laws—already spinning with her spear—locked into a new rhythm. Burning Heat's first level, which had been bordering on peak comprehension, clicked into true perfection.
Every thrust, every sweep, every twist now carried the full weight of that understanding. The red-gold rune-wheel behind her blazed brighter, spokes thickening, flame forming a spiraling halo.
Beneath her feet, the blood true essence that tried to cling to her legs was instantly boiled and repelled, unable to invade.
Bai Jingyun's gaze sharpened to a knife-edge.
She exhaled slowly, once.
To her, the chaotic waves of blood no longer seemed like random pulses. She saw instead the domain's structure—the lines of connection between the blood lake and the cultivator, the paths of least resistance, the weak nodes.
Her sword rose.
Her Fire Laws compressed further. Burning Heat reached a razor-thin extremity, a line so narrow it seemed to vanish. She was no longer cutting "things." She was cutting paths—routes of energy, traces of intent.
Her rune-wheel turned silently, red-gold light tracing the invisible patterns her sword followed.
Qin Xingxuan closed her eyes again.
The pressure bearing down on her was enough to crush mountains. The blood sea's whispers crawled at the edges of her mind, trying to plant fear, despair, submission.
She remembered the lantern in the snow, the villagers screaming, her own trembling hands, her desire to run, and the fact that she hadn't.
She did not try to erase her fear.
She wrapped it.
Fear, she realized, was also fuel. Something that could burn, if she chose to let it.
In her soul, a lantern flame burned quietly on a stone altar. Now, that flame flared—not in white denial, but in red-gold acceptance. The peak of Burning Heat within her Dao heart was reached not with roaring fury, but with an unyielding decision.
"I will not step back," she thought. "No matter how loud the storm."
Her Fire Laws surged.
The blood sea that had pressed down on them now met a different resistance. Its heat was drawn out, transformed, reorganized. The oppressive weight lightened as energy bled away into gentle warmth that washed over her companions, easing their breaths.
The demonic cultivator realized something was wrong.
"Why…?" he snarled, eyes wild, veins bulging at his temples. "Why is my domain—!"
He never finished.
Murong Zi's spear drilled in from the front.
Flame spun along the shaft like a dragon, spiraling into a red-gold drill that tore through the half-repaired blood shield he tried to raise again in panic.
Bai Jingyun's sword cut from the side.
Her blade sliced through the domain's channels, severing his control over half the blood sea in an instant. The swelling wave that should have crushed the trio simply collapsed, its structure cut.
Qin Xingxuan's lantern field compressed what remained.
She grabbed the runaway energy, wrapped it in her Burning Heat, and squeezed, denying it any chance to explode outward. Power that would have gone into a final desperate strike instead turned to harmless steam rising around them like morning mist.
Three peaks of Burning Heat's first level.
Three Fire Martial Intents—aggressive spear, precise sword, unyielding lantern—each strengthened, overlapping.
Spear. Sword. Spear.
They struck together.
The impact sounded like shattering glass and roaring thunder layered on top of each other.
The blood-lake phantom behind the demonic cultivator cracked like a mirror. Arm after arm shattered into crimson dust. The lake's surface caved inward, folding like paper.
Cracks spread through his body.
Murong Zi's spear drove into his chest, the drilling flame ripping through sternum and ribs. Bai Jingyun's sword carved along his side, cutting open meridians and blood vessels, leaving lines of seared flesh. Qin Xingxuan's follow-up stab pinned his dantian, sealing his true essence in burning light.
Flame erupted from his wounds, not burning him from the outside, but from the inside out, eating away at the very foundation of his demonic true essence.
He screamed once, voice cracking with disbelief and unwillingness.
Then he fell.
The blood sea quivered.
Without its master, the domain lost cohesion.
The crimson surface collapsed inward, turned into steam, and rose in giant clouds. In moments, the island's black stone emerged from beneath the receding tide, scorched, cracked, but solid.
Bones and corpses that had been half-dissolved reappeared, some already burned to ash by the girls' flames.
Silence fell.
Murong Zi's spear tip dropped.
Her legs wobbled, and for a heartbeat it seemed she might collapse—but she gritted her teeth and stabbed the spear into the stone, using it as support. Sweat rolled down her temples, stinging her eyes. Her arms felt like lead, but the wild joy in her gaze was impossible to hide.
Bai Jingyun's shoulders rose and fell slowly. She held her sword in both hands until they stopped trembling, then sheathed it with careful precision, refusing to let it clatter. Her chest burned with pain where the domain had pressed her, but inside, her Sword Intent was sharper than ever.
Qin Xingxuan sank the butt of her spear into the ground, mirroring Murong Zi without realizing it. Her lantern flame shrank in her inner world, but it did not extinguish. Behind her pupils, a steady light continued to burn.
The red-gold rune-wheels behind them had dimmed, but they did not vanish. Their spokes had changed—denser, thicker, their patterns more intricate. The Fire Martial Intent within them was no longer something they had just "touched." It had become something written into their bones.
From the edge of the island, Na Shui's gasp broke the quiet.
"It's… it's just like us…" Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide and shining. "They really killed a middle Houtian… at their realms…"
Na Yi's lips curved faintly.
"That," she said softly, "is what it means to walk with him."
Ren walked toward them.
He did not rush. His steps were unhurried, each one quietly steady on the scorched stone. Blood mist still coiled faintly around the island, but it parted before him, as if afraid to touch him.
He stopped a short distance away, close enough that they could feel his presence, but far enough not to crowd them.
He did not speak immediately.
He simply looked.
At Murong Zi's shaking arms, and the way she still held her spear like she wanted to continue fighting.
At Bai Jingyun's tight jaw, and the way she refused to let her fingers unclench until she had fully sheathed her sword.
At Qin Xingxuan's pale face, and the steady light still burning behind her eyes.
Then he smiled.
"Well done," he said quietly.
Three pairs of eyes lifted to him.
"This wasn't a battle you won because I was hiding behind you, pulling strings," he continued. "You three pushed your Fire Laws to the peak of their first step. Your Fire Martial Intent grew with your hearts. That middle Houtian…"
He shrugged.
"He was a proper opponent for your level. And you killed him."
Murong Zi laughed weakly.
"If you start saying he was 'barely acceptable,' I might die of anger right here," she muttered.
Ren chuckled.
"His cultivation was solid," he said. "If you'd relied only on brute force, you would have lost. But you didn't. You grew mid-battle and turned the tide. That's the real win."
Bai Jingyun's lips trembled, just for a moment.
"…When I cut his blood sea," she said softly, "I felt… the world's fire shift. As if… the Dao itself acknowledged my blade."
Qin Xingxuan nodded slightly.
"When his domain pressed down," she said, "I thought I would break. But the more afraid I was… the brighter my flame burned. I… don't want to forget that feeling."
Ren's gaze softened.
"Good," he said. "Then don't."
Na Yi and Na Shui approached, stopping just behind him.
Na Shui burst first, eyes bright.
"You were amazing!" she shouted, nearly bouncing despite the grim surroundings. "Murong Zi, the way your spear drilled through that shield—! And Jingyun, that cut at his neck—! Xingxuan, I could feel your field from here; it made breathing easier—"
Murong Zi flushed, scratching her cheek with the back of her hand.
"It was nothing," she said, trying to sound casual and failing. "We just—"
Na Yi flicked her forehead lightly.
Murong Zi yelped, more from surprise than pain, hand flying to her head.
"Don't pretend you're not proud," Na Yi said, mouth curved. "You earned it."
Bai Jingyun turned to them, bowed slightly from the waist.
"Thank you for guarding the edges," she said. "If you had not held the others back, we could not have focused."
Qin Xingxuan cupped her fists toward Na Yi and Na Shui.
"Truly," she added, sincerity clear in her eyes. "We relied on you."
Na Shui waved both hands quickly, cheeks reddening.
"N-no, we just cleaned up trash," she said. "You three were the ones fighting the real battle."
Ren watched them all—their energy, their laughter, their breathing, the way their auras interwove now more smoothly than before.
His smile deepened.
"Since you've done so well," he said lightly, "I suppose it's only right I give you a proper reward."
Three heads snapped toward him.
Murong Zi's eyes lit up immediately, mischief sparking back to full strength.
"Any reward?" she asked, seizing onto the word like a hungry wolf. "Are you sure you want to say something that dangerous out loud?"
Bai Jingyun's ears turned faintly pink. She looked away, pretending to inspect the fine cracks in her sword's edge, though the blade was perfectly fine.
Qin Xingxuan's fingers tightened on her spear shaft, knuckles whitening.
Ren laughed, low and easy.
"Any reward," he said. "If it's something I can give without harming your futures, I won't refuse. You three earned that much today."
He didn't say it to impress them.
He said it because he meant it.
That sincerity… landed.
Murong Zi's grin wavered for a heartbeat. Something softer flickered across her eyes, quickly hidden by bravado.
"…Then I'll think about it," she said, trying to sound bold and only half succeeding. "If I waste such a promise, I'd be an idiot."
Bai Jingyun exhaled slowly.
"…There are many things I wish to ask," she said quietly. "But… for now, I would like time. To digest today. To decide what I truly want."
Qin Xingxuan lowered her gaze, then raised it again, meeting his eyes straight on.
"…If I ask later," she said, voice soft but steady, "you won't… take the offer back?"
Ren's smile turned gentle.
"I'm not that fickle," he said. "Take your time. Dao, rewards, feelings—anything worth having is worth choosing properly. Whenever you decide… I'll listen."
The sea wind tugged at their clothes.
The smell of blood was already fading, replaced by salt and the faint, clean scent of steam.
Between them, something subtle shifted.
Not just respect for a powerful instructor.
Not just gratitude for guidance.
But a deeper thread—trust, woven in blood and flame and quiet, unwavering support.
Na Yi watched the three Heavenly Abode girls' faces, the way they looked at Ren, at each other. A faint, amused understanding flickered in her eyes.
'So this is how it looks like,' she thought.
Na Shui just smiled, bright and sincere, feeling only happiness that more people could stand on the path beside them.
Ren stretched his shoulders as if they hadn't just wiped out a demonic outpost that had been preying on the surrounding seas for months.
"Then it's decided," he said. "We'll clean up the rest of the trash here, free any survivors in those caves, then head back. You've all earned a couple of days in my courtyard to consolidate."
Murong Zi groaned dramatically, slumping like someone who had just been told she had to climb another mountain.
"More 'gentle guidance'?" she said. "My meridians are still screaming from your last 'gentle' session."
Ren's eyes curved in a lazy smile.
"Complaints noted," he said. "I'll make it even harsher."
Murong Zi choked.
Na Shui laughed so hard she doubled over, clutching her stomach.
Bai Jingyun's lips quirked before she could stop them.
Qin Xingxuan's shoulders finally relaxed, the tightness in her chest loosening as the tension of battle bled away, replaced by a strange, calm warmth.
The blood sea had vanished.
But the flame they'd lit on this island would not go out.