Deep within the forest, a figure cloaked in dark robes moved silently between massive tree trunks. The night clung to him, but he moved through it like a shadow, his steps feather-light and his motions fluid.
He moved through the undergrowth far faster than the roaming beasts could perceive. To them, he was nothing more than a fleeting blur and a sudden chill; then, he was gone.
Moments later, he halted before a cave's opening. The ground here showed signs of a struggle: rubble littered the earth, branches lay snapped, and nearby trees bore scorch marks and deep gouges in their bark.
Days had passed since the disciples had clashed with the buffalo beast, yet the air still held the metallic traces of dried blood, and the soil faintly thrummed with dissipating qi.
He extended his spirit sense, which swept the clearing methodically and probed for any tails. Finding none, he turned toward the dark entrance.
Then he paused abruptly as a familiar aura brushed against his perception from within. Instead of entering, he withdrew, and for nearly an hour, he circled the site like a wraith, his path a tightening spiral.
He would sometimes halt abruptly, his spirit sense flaring out to scour a three-hundred-meter area in all directions to ensure the stillness was not a trap or illusion. Only when he was certain did he settle into a concealed vantage point.
It was then that he felt two more familiar auras approaching with swift purpose. They did not linger or scout but moved straight for the cave and slipped inside.
The figure remained motionless on the high branch, blending seamlessly into the night. He watched and waited. Only when his spirit sense confirmed that the forest held no hidden eyes did he finally descend and return to the cave entrance.
This time, a faint orange glow flickered from within, and without hesitation, he slipped inside.
Torches embedded in the stone walls cast a dim, flickering light. Three cloaked figures sat in a loose circle around the frail purple orchid. Compared to a week ago, the orchid's glow was far stronger now, tinged with a faint blue light that pulsed gently in the gloom.
They looked up as his footsteps echoed softly on the stone floor. "You're late," rasped Mo Li, the bulky figure, rising to his feet.
Mei Xu, the woman, spoke next, her voice gentle but edged with caution. "Is anyone following you?"
"No," said Wudi. His gaze swept the cave, taking in the scattered bones of young calves near the walls before he stood beside the orchid. "But you need to be more cautious." He lowered himself into a cross-legged position before the herb. "About seventy hours until it matures."
Mo Li followed his gaze; his eyes burned with undisguised greed. Yet, even as he stared at the glowing herb—the Sevenfold Chalice Orchid, his posture remained tense, as if the herb were as dangerous as it was precious.
"Good. We will wait, then," added Wudi, his focus shifting to the third figure—the swordsman with three blades strapped to his back. "How are the plans for the Twin Sword Elders proceeding?"
Jiang Yi let out a weary sigh, the sound heavy with frustration. "A complete failure," he muttered.
"We lost a valuable pawn because he was too eager to show their father's... diminished state. He was a man with the potential to reach the rank of Outer Courtyard Elder; now, he's been put down like a dog. What a waste."
Mei Xu's voice, soft and mellifluous, cut through the tense silence. "Is there truly no way to shake their minds before they step into Core Formation? Once they do, they will become a significant hindrance. Or worse, a threat to our entire cause."
The other two exchanged a glance, unnerved by her abrupt shift from a cunning crone to a gentle maiden. Their eyes flicked to the tall man, and they understood. She's performing for him. But they dismissed her antics, focusing on the cold matter at hand.
"The direct approach is too risky," Jiang Yi admitted, his voice gravelly with frustration. "Killing the father they abandoned for the path of the ruthless sword would only strengthen their resolve. It could become a catalyst, refining their Dao Hearts through tribulation. I've heard the array projections from that incident have already given them new insights." He shook his head slowly. "Their talent for this ruthless path is... formidable."
"What a waste," Mei Xu said, the reverence in her tone seemed more genuine than performative. "In the hands of the righteous, such gifts are shackled. Had they been born to the Demonic Sect, they would have been like fish returned to the sea. By now, they would likely be at Peak Core Formation, perhaps even touching the Golden Core realm."
Mo Li grunted, the sound echoing in the empty space. He turned toward the tall man, his greedy eyes sharp with impatience. "So, Wudi, what is our move? Do we sit and watch as those righteous dogs gain not one, but two powerful swords? Each with the potential to reach the Nascent Soul realm. We cannot just wait."
All eyes settled on Wudi, who remained silent for a long moment while his thoughts churned. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, calculated rumble.
"Their breakthrough cannot be stopped. That much is clear. Using their father wouldn't work, and assassination would be suicide, as it would only provoke the so-called 'supreme ancestors' who guard them." He paused his gaze sweeping over them then finally on the orchid. "The potential gain does not yet justify the catastrophic loss."
"Then our focus should shift," the woman said, her earlier affectation now replaced by a sharper, more strategic tone. "They are not the only keys to the treasury vaults. Other potential candidates exist."
"Exactly," grunted Mo Li, a feverish light gleaming in his eyes. "The Twin Sword Elders will be a problem when the Secret Realm opens. But we have twenty years to prepare, twenty years to position and empower our other pawns. That's enough time to secure the map to the...," he paused, his voice dropping to a hushed, reverent whisper. "...the rumored fragment of the Celestial Fiend Arts."
A hush fell over the cave. The very name carried a weight that stifled their breath and ignited a primal, trembling greed within them. A Celestial Fiend Art was said to be capable of driving a Holy Land to madness. Yet rumors claimed it was hidden in a minor secret realm.
"If... if I could obtain it..." The thought was so vast and terrifying that Mo Li's mind shied away, unable to comprehend it fully and they eventually settled on the treasure before him.
The others nodded, sharing an eager understanding of both the mythical arts and the tangible treasure maturing before them. While they could not grasp the profound depths of the Celestial Fiend Arts as a body refiner like Mo Li could, they recognized the scent of ultimate power. And the true power, for now, pulsed right before their eyes.
The conversation swiftly turned pragmatic as each reported on their progress infiltrating the various sects of the Black Monolith Region, their gazes never truly leaving the purple orchid.
For three days, their conspiracy festered and grew in the cave beneath the Heavens' Fall Sword Sect. Finally, as the last thread of their plan was laid, the orchid reached its zenith.
Its potent, herbaceous scent began to bleed into the air—a beacon that would draw beasts, or worse, spirit beasts, from miles around.
Before the first tendril of fragrance could escape the cavern, the woman's hands danced through the air. She retrieved an array plate from her storage pouch and, with practiced efficiency, deployed a Tier-Two stealth formation. She wove in her own unique schemes, perfectly sealing the cave and its potent aroma from the outside world.
"Good. Now it's just us. Those righteous fools couldn't recognize the treasure growing in their own backyard," the burly man laughed, but his grating chuckle died in the sudden, heavy silence that followed.
His brow furrowed as the mood in the cavern shifted, thickening with a palpable, predatory tension. All eyes locked onto the purple orchid, its glow now a fierce, captivating violet.
The camaraderie of conspiracy evaporated, replaced by the raw, silent currency of greed. In the presence of a spirit herb this rare—one that could help refining the very quality of a cultivator's golden core—alliances were parchment before a flame.
It was a treasure born of a rare twist of fate, hidden among countless common orchids by nature's own whim.
With a soft, lethal shing, the swordsman drew one of his blades. It glinted not with mere torchlight, but with visible swordforce, a cold energy that cut through the darkness and illuminated half his face in a deadly, stark relief.
Three tendrils of spiritual sense immediately lashed out, probing his intent. They recoiled just as swiftly, their minds stinging as if jabbed by needles. The unspoken assessment between the three was instantaneous and clear: he was not merely ready to fight.
He was ready to kill.
The silent standoff shattered into a flurry of frantic preparation. The woman's fingers flew over her formation plate, channeling a torrent of qi. The stealth array's hum intensified as she placed a second plate on top of the first, creating an illusion formation meant for obscuring the battle about to commence.
The burly man took a heavy step back, the ground beneath his feet vibrating with a low tremor. Dark tattoos snaked up his forearms and ignited with an ominous inner light.
His stance was no longer merely defensive but that of a coiled spring of destructive potential, ready to shatter stone walls and bones in order to seize a momentary advantage and snatch the herb before fleeing.
The cavern, once a chamber of whispered plots, had become a silent arena. The only sound was the soft, rhythmic pulse of the orchid's radiant aura, beating like the heart of the conflict to come.
Wudi's voice cut through the thickening malice, calm and cold. "This idiocy ends now. We cannot afford to fight over a single herb, no matter its grade."
His words were met with instant, derisive scorn.
"Look who speaks," the woman sneered, her earlier performative gentleness stripped away. "The privileged disciple of a Peak Golden Core master, for whom such a treasure might be a mere commendation."
"For the rest of us," Jiang Yi added, his blade held at that deadly, patient angle, "this is the path. Do you truly believe any of us will simply turn and walk away empty-handed?" Like the others, his gaze remained locked on the orchid, a prize worth more than their fragile, temporary pact, held by absent force.
Wudi's expression didn't change. "I care nothing for your desperation. But I will offer one warning. If your squabbling alerts the sect—especially now, when they're coming for the seedlings—you will experience my master's true displeasure."
A chill descended at the mention of his master. For a tense minute, hostile gazes darted between the three of them in a silent battle of wills. Then, violence erupted without a sound.
A blade of condensed sword force and a searing lance of fire qi spell materialized simultaneously before Jiang Yi and Wudi then lashed toward the Mo Li. His body stiffened as if he were caught completely unaware.
Ugh!
The impacts threw him backward with brutal force. He slammed into the cavern wall, cracking the stone behind him. Dazed, he shook his head and saw the three of them standing exactly as they were, untouched and watching.
"Damned illusions!" he roared, understanding dawning on him. His forearm tattoos blazed with furious power as he charged at the woman, intending to crush her skull with his fist.
Whoosh!
His blow passed through her body as if it were mist. She reappeared several paces to his right, an expression of icy contempt on her face.
He lunged again.
Whoosh!
Another illusion. Disoriented, he was given no time to recover. He was hit from behind by a barrage of attacks: fire spears, fiery projectiles, and a slicing swordforce.
The force of the impact launched him across the cavern like a rag doll and slammed him into the opposite wall. Dust and stone fragments rained down around his slumped form.
"They chose to eliminate me first." He spat a glob of blood onto the stone and forced his breathing to steady. "I expected betrayal the moment I pledged to the Demonic Faction, but from my own comrades I have know for decades. No wonder the righteous look upon us as scavengers."
This bitter realization sent a pang of corrosive doubt through him, cracking his resolve. Instantly, a searing, vice-like agony clenched his heart. The Gu worm, embedded deep within his flesh, constricted like a heated chain, punishing his wavering loyalty.
The others saw his momentary paralysis and struck as one.
The burly man roared, pushing the agony aside to muster a final, desperate counterattack. But he was too slow; his movements were clumsy with inner torment.
Arcs of sword energy flashed, cleanly severing both his hands at the forearms. A spear of condensed fire punched through his chest with a sickening hiss, leaving a smoldering crater.
As his vision swam, hellish visions flooded it, not just blood, but also the woman's illusions invading his mind and twisting his pain into a paralyzing nightmare. They stifled any final self-destructive impulse or spiritual alarm.
Thud!
His corpse collapsed into the sudden, ringing quiet. The only remaining sound was the soft, indifferent pulse of the orchid, its light gleaming on the freshly spilled blood.