Night had fully settled over the borderlands, but the forest was anything but quiet. The faint shimmer of formations and talismans illuminated the clearing like scattered stars, casting long shadows that danced with the wind.
Mo Yun, Shen Yue, and the contingent of core disciples moved cautiously, spreading out in a tactical formation. Each step was deliberate, each glance calculated. Xu Ming's absence from this mission was a relief, Mo Yun thought, though he knew the young man would have fussed over every minor detail anyway.
"Stay alert," Mo Yun whispered, his voice barely carrying over the rustle of leaves. "The patterns we observed earlier—they're deliberate. Watch how they move, not just where."
A soft, almost imperceptible growl echoed from deeper in the forest. The beasts had arrived. Smaller than the ones in previous reports, their bodies glimmered faintly in the moonlight, their movements coordinated, intelligent, unnatural.
A junior disciple yelped and tripped over a root while trying to line up a ward. Shen Yue pinched her nose but did not intervene. "You're alive. Congratulations," she muttered.
Mo Yun rolled his eyes. "Gravity isn't the enemy here. Observation is."
The first wave of beasts approached cautiously, circling the perimeter, testing for weaknesses. The disciples remained calm, each using their own formations, minor talismans, and martial prowess to control the space. Shen Yue's wards pulsed softly, while Mo Yun moved like a shadow, intercepting and redirecting the creatures without drawing undue attention.
"Remember," Mo Yun whispered to a young disciple, "do not attack without purpose. Wait for openings."
The junior disciple nodded, knees trembling, then promptly stepped on his own talisman. It beeped loudly, startling him—and apparently the beasts as well, who paused mid-step, tilting their heads in almost human-like confusion.
"See?" Mo Yun said calmly. "Even mistakes can teach you something."
The tension broke slightly, and even the most rigid disciples allowed a small smile before refocusing.
The beasts adjusted, clearly adapting to the disciples' formations and movements. They circled, feinted, and attempted to bait traps—though each action was carefully orchestrated, controlled. Mo Yun's eyes narrowed. "This is no natural beast tide. Someone is guiding them. Someone is learning from us."
Shen Yue's gaze hardened. "Exactly as I feared. They're testing, but not attacking outright. We need to anticipate their next move before they force one."
"Then let's teach them patience," Mo Yun said.
The second wave came faster, larger, and with more coordination. The disciples had to act as a team, combining their formations, martial skills, and qi to funnel the creatures into controlled spaces. A disciple from a neighboring sect accidentally collided with another, sending a flurry of sparks and triggering a minor talisman prematurely. The resulting flash startled everyone—including the beasts—but the disciples quickly recovered, adjusting their spacing and redirecting the creatures calmly.
Mo Yun allowed himself a faint smirk. "The forest does not need drama. Humans, however… humans always provide it."
Shen Yue rolled her eyes. "Some of us are trying to survive."
Even in combat, the subtle comedy reminded them that mistakes were human—and that observing them without panic was just as important as defeating the creatures.
Hours passed. The beasts, clearly fatigued and learning from the disciples' strategies, began retreating toward the forest edge. Each movement, every hesitation, seemed guided by an invisible hand.
Mo Yun straightened, observing the departing creatures. "Phase One of their test is complete. They adapted. They observed. But they left openings. That is intentional."
Shen Yue's expression was grim. "Someone is watching, learning from every action, every misstep."
Mo Yun's gaze hardened. "And when they strike for real, they will expect precision. We will need to be better than what they anticipate."
Far beyond the border, the man who did not look like fate watched through his spiritual observers. A faint, approving smile crossed his lips. They respond as expected. Clever, coordinated, cautious. Just the way I like them.
By the time dawn crept over the forest, the disciples were exhausted but unscathed. They shared quiet, weary smiles and subtle jokes—teasing each other for mistakes, sharing small victories, and learning to work as a team under pressure.
Even in the tension and danger, life reminded them: survival was not just about strength or skill—it was about observation, cooperation, and adaptability.
And somewhere in the shadows, the long-term manipulator continued his quiet game, shaping events one subtle move at a time.
The first real test had been passed—but it had also revealed just how carefully the disciples were being watched, and how far the hand in the shadows would go before making its presence known.