The night the trap closed, it did so without bloodshed.
That, more than anything else, was what made it terrifying.
The joint encampment was quiet—too quiet. Lanterns burned low, formations hummed softly, and patrols moved with measured steps. On the surface, nothing had changed. Beneath it, every leader was alert, their spiritual senses stretched thin, watching not the beasts beyond the perimeter, but the people within it.
Mo Yun stood inside the temporary command hall, fingers resting lightly on the map table. His gaze was calm, but his mind replayed every inconsistency from the past weeks.
The traitor had not been sloppy. They had not been greedy. They had not acted often.
Which meant they were either extremely disciplined… or extremely patient.
"Movement," Shen Yue transmitted softly through a sound-isolating talisman.
Mo Yun did not respond verbally. He merely shifted his spiritual sense toward the western supply corridor.
Someone was there.
Not sneaking.
Not fleeing.
Walking—slowly, deliberately—as if they belonged.
That was the first wrong thing.
The second was who it was.
Elder Qin Shou of the Mountain Sect.
A man with over eighty years of service. A pillar of the sect. One of the elders responsible for logistics, formation maintenance, and—most critically—inter-sect coordination.
A man no one had suspected.
Not even once.
Qin Shou stopped near a storage array, his expression relaxed, almost bored. He raised his hand and lightly adjusted a formation node—an action so routine that no guard questioned it.
And yet.
The moment his fingers touched the node, the formation's internal rhythm changed by a fraction.
Not enough to trigger alarms.
Enough to transmit a pulse.
Li Chen felt it instantly.
His eyes narrowed.
"That's not communication," he murmured. "That's… synchronization."
Mo Yun stepped forward.
"So," he said calmly, his voice echoing softly in the corridor, "how long have you been doing this, Elder Qin?"
The air froze.
Qin Shou's hand stilled mid-motion. For a heartbeat, his face showed genuine surprise.
Then he laughed.
Not bitterly.
Not desperately.
Simply… amused.
"So it was you," Qin Shou said, turning slowly. "I wondered when someone would finally notice."
Shen Yue's pupils contracted. "You?"
"Yes. Me."
Qin Shou straightened his robes, the image of a righteous elder perfectly intact. "You set a clever trap. Fragmented intelligence. Layered bait. False suspicion aimed at the juniors."
He nodded approvingly.
"But your mistake was assuming the traitor would be new."
Silence followed.
Then Han Zhi spoke, voice low. "You're saying…?"
Qin Shou's smile widened.
"I joined the Mountain Sect ninety-three years ago."