They did not get far.
The mist thickened again barely fifty meters from the clearing.
Not drifting.
Closing.
Like a curtain being drawn.
"Formation tight!" one of the Inner Court supervisors ordered.
Wind blades sliced outward, dispersing the fog temporarily—but it returned within seconds.
Unnatural.
Deliberate.
Chen Wei stayed close to Lin Xuan's left side. The wounded disciple walked near the center, breathing unevenly.
"Senior Brother… did you see it?" Chen Wei whispered.
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"I don't know yet."
That was the truth.
But he knew one thing clearly—
It was not a spirit beast.
A sound came from behind them.
Footsteps.
Measured.
Not running.
Not crawling.
Walking.
The group turned sharply.
Through the fog—
A silhouette appeared.
Humanoid.
Tall.
Slender.
It stepped forward slowly.
One of the Outer Court disciples exhaled in relief.
"It's Liu Peng! He must've gotten separated!"
The figure emerged closer.
The robes were correct.
The build was similar.
Even the sword at its waist matched.
But something was wrong.
Its posture.
Too straight.
Too balanced.
The Inner Court supervisor raised a hand.
"Don't approach."
"Liu Peng!" the wounded disciple called out.
The figure stopped.
Its head tilted slightly.
A motion too smooth.
Too mechanical.
Then it smiled.
The smile was a fraction too wide.
And its eyes—
Completely black.
"Back!" the supervisor barked.
Too late.
The imitation Liu Peng moved.
Not fast—
But sudden.
Its arm elongated unnaturally, fingers stretching into blade-like extensions.
It struck the nearest Outer Court disciple in the chest.
The armor cracked.
The disciple was thrown backward violently.
Before the creature could follow—
Wind energy slammed into its side.
One of the supervisors had reacted instantly.
The impact tore the fake disciple apart—
But there was no blood.
No bone.
Only black mist dispersing violently.
The shape collapsed into vapor.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Chen Wei's breathing was shaking now.
"That wasn't him…"
"No," Lin Xuan said quietly.
It had copied surface details.
Clothing.
Face.
Voice shape.
But not presence.
Not aura.
Inside his consciousness, the dragon's voice was colder now.
This valley does not simply corrupt.
"It replicates."
Imperfectly.
The injured disciple groaned from the ground.
Cracked ribs.
Severe internal bruising.
Alive.
But shaken.
"We move," the lead supervisor said sharply. "Now."
They advanced again, more tightly grouped.
No one spoke.
Every shifting shadow felt threatening.
After several minutes—
Another figure appeared in the mist.
This time—
It looked like one of the Inner Court supervisors.
Perfect robes.
Perfect sword.
Perfect posture.
The real supervisor froze.
The copy stepped forward calmly.
"Formation unstable," the imitation said smoothly. "We should separate into two groups."
No one moved.
The real supervisor's expression hardened.
He raised his hand and unleashed a concentrated wind spear.
It pierced straight through the imitation's head.
The body dissolved instantly.
Again—mist.
"Do not respond to voices unless confirmed," he said coldly.
Fear was spreading now.
Not panic.
But erosion.
Trust itself was becoming fragile.
They reached a rocky incline that rose slightly above the valley floor.
The mist was thinner here.
For now.
The group paused to regroup.
Five had entered.
Now they were four Outer Court disciples and three Inner Court supervisors.
One missing.
Possibly dead.
Possibly worse.
Lin Xuan stood near the edge of the incline and looked outward.
The valley floor below was shifting subtly.
Not the terrain.
The mist.
It pulsed faintly.
Like breathing.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Inside—
The dragon was fully alert now.
It is testing reaction patterns.
"Learning?"
Yes.
Lin Xuan's eyes opened again.
"It copies what it observes."
Surface only. Not essence.
That was their advantage.
But only if they remained calm.
A sudden tremor ran through the ground.
Not violent.
But deep.
Like something turning beneath the earth.
The mist rippled outward in waves.
And from deeper within the valley—
A low, distant sound echoed.
Not a roar.
Not a scream.
More like—
A call.
Ancient.
Resonant.
Every mutated beast cry they had heard before suddenly went silent.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
One of the Inner Court supervisors whispered under his breath:
"What in this valley is waking up…"
Lin Xuan did not answer.
Because deep in his chest—
He felt something respond.
Not outwardly.
But internally.
A faint resonance.
Like two distant frequencies aligning.
The dragon's voice came slowly.
That is not the valley.
A pause.
That is what remains beneath it.
The ground trembled again.
Stronger.
Small stones rolled down the incline.
Cracks formed along the surface of one of the broken stone pillars below.
And from within those cracks—
A faint red glow flickered.
Not bright.
Not explosive.
Just enough to confirm one thing.
This expedition had never been about resource collection.
They had stepped into something sealed.
Something incomplete.
Something that recognized Lin Xuan the moment he entered.
And now—
It was beginning to respond.