At dawn, both our parties, along with practitioners from other Communes and Sects, gathered at CLOUD RECESS. It was a fairly wide gorge, filled with hundreds, even thousands, of floating mountains and rocks, each one an enigma suspended in the air.
Of all these, the SKY CASTLE loomed largest, almost like an entire city unto itself. It had exquisitely tall pagodas, their roofs adorned with an extensive blue shade, complemented by golden maxpans that glimmered like captured sunlight. Most of the other structures were veiled from direct view by thick, static clouds that appeared to be boiling, swirling with a life of their own. The atmosphere was charged, a palpable tension threading through the air as we awaited the unfolding spectacle.
On the platform, we waited patiently, but most of the other groups were visibly uneasy, their murmurs punctuating the silence. My eyes kept searching the horizon for something I could not quite name, a feeling that gnawed at my insides. Then, all at once, a strange presence washed over me, heavy and electrifying, emanating from ahead.
I couldn't pinpoint the source of the sound, but my gaze was drawn inexorably to the front of the mountain. A deep, roaring noise filled my ears, accompanied by fleeting shadows soaring overhead. Suddenly, the mystery broke like dawn over the night as something shot from the ground beneath us into the sky.
"Dragons!" Chunho exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and exhilaration.
It was my first time seeing them up close. Long, serpentine creatures, their scales shimmering in a riot of colours, each adorned with a pair of majestic antlers. To my astonishment, it appeared that riders sat confidently between the horns, their forms silhouetted against the sky.
They spiralled around the Sky Castle, clearing the boiling clouds, allowing rays of sunlight to pour through and illuminate the magnificent structure that had seemed to obscure it. It was as though a halo had formed around the floating mountain, a radiant blessing bestowed upon it. The dragons danced in the air, weaving intricate patterns, their movements synchronised to a melody that seemed to resonate within our very souls. What began as a spectacle of wonder transformed into a jubilant welcome, the crowd shifting from awe to rapture, their fears momentarily forgotten.
I stole a glance at Yi San, who stood unphased, a stoic figure amidst the chaos. I wondered if the spectacle was not new to him, if he had grown accustomed to such wonders. My attention returned to the dragons, who circled back and halted gracefully before us.
Among them, one man stood out, commanding the scene as he positioned himself between the horns of a magnificent white dragon. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, embodying a blend of wisdom and strength. With six rings projected behind him like a celestial aura, he exuded authority, while the rest of his followers bowed their heads in reverence, a silent acknowledgment of his power.
In that moment, we followed suit, bowing our heads as a sign of respect, an unspoken invitation to honour the ritual.
"Welcome to the Four Seasons Tournament," he announced, his voice resonating like thunder, drawing our attention entirely. As fireworks erupted in the background, illuminating the sky with vibrant colours, we stood mesmerised, our hearts pounding with anticipation.
"Some of you, prior to coming, were given Cuff tokens, which are to be activated once you choose a partner who isn't from the same martial Sect or Commune as you. There are only 500 dragons here, meaning only 500 pairs can board them. This is the first elimination; anyone who hasn't paired up will automatically be disqualified." His voice rang clear, the stakes were laid bare, and the thrill of the competition was ignited within me at least.
"That's so unfair," some people began to murmur, their voices rising in a chorus of discontent.
"It was already awkward seeing that even wanderers were invited."
"We were duped into thinking the Four Cardinal Sects would actually care for the lowly wandering practitioners." Disappointment hung heavy in the air as people exchanged their thoughts, their frustration palpable. Yet, the Old Master remained unfazed, his focus unwavering as he conjured what appeared to be a spell. With a flourish, he summoned all the present tokens, and they formed an extensive, revolving golden ring around him, illuminating the Recess with a warm, ethereal glow.
"The matching of the Cuff Tokens is primarily based on the compatibility of partners—their ability to complement and supplement one another. Naturally, this means that some members could have been rejected," he assured us, his voice steady and authoritative. As Yi San and I stood together, we found ourselves encased in golden capsules, levitating alongside other pairs. Soon, we were borne aloft by specific dragons—ours, a striking red and yellow, was flown by a young lady whose confidence matched the majesty of her mount.
Once the distribution was complete, we ascended to the Sky Castle in a single file, our hearts racing with exhilaration. We began to circle the grand edifice from above, the woman guiding us as she pointed out various buildings. I struggled to focus on her words, overwhelmed by the sheer majesty of this place. It felt even more honourable than the Seven Hills back at the Hidden Valley, a realm that had once seemed so grand.
Below us, martial practitioners trained with fervour, their movements precise and powerful. The sight ignited a spark of excitement within me. Suddenly, we approached a wide concrete flat ground where our golden capsules descended, releasing us from their warm embrace. The dragons departed at once, leaving us to acclimatise to our new surroundings.
As we gathered ourselves, a group of Elders appeared before us, dressed in four distinct colours—a sight that unmistakably marked them as the Chiefs of the Four Cardinal Sects. Their presence was commanding, and a sense of reverence washed over the crowd.
"What excessive pomp!" Yi San exclaimed, the first words he had spoken since our arrival at the Inn the previous night. It was as if he had just noticed me, his eyes now alight with a mixture of disdain and wonder.
"Sorry?" I replied, taken aback by the sudden outburst.
"They aren't even the highlight of the ceremony," he pointed out, his tone laced with a blend of incredulity and insight.
"Have you taken this Tournament before?" I asked, curiosity piqued as I sought to understand the person I was dealing with.
"The Last Season's Defending Champion," he clarified, and my surprise quickly shifted to a dawning comprehension.
"No wonder you acted unfazed by the Dragon Entrance," I remarked, my mind racing to catch up with this new revelation.
"That one was pretty new, though; last time we flew here in Sky boats," he claimed, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. This brief introduction forced me to reconsider my assumptions; he was clearly not as naïve as I had first thought. A flicker of concern crept into my mind—my position felt precarious amidst the unfolding drama. I resolved to act as casually as possible, convincing myself it was the only option.
"What is the highlight of this entrance?" I inquired sincerely, eager for insight.
"The real guests of the hour, the original heroes, mankind's foremost defenders..." His words hung in the air, and I immediately grasped the implication: the Cardinal Guardians were about to make their appearance.
In that instant, a blinding light descended from the sky, enveloping us all. My ring finger, adorned with an illusory ring, began to glow and react to the radiant energy above, leaving me momentarily disoriented.
Four god-like figures, each shrouded in auras of blue, red, white, and green, descended gracefully upon four flat-faced concentric pillars, each soaring at least four hundred feet high. Although their faces remained obscured, their halo rings—twice the size of a typical practitioner's—were vividly projected before us, each one containing seven distinct luminescent orbs.
"We welcome the Cardinal Guardians," the Elders of the Sect intoned, their voices resonating with reverence. As the Guardians materialised before us, they surveyed the crowd, granting us a closer look at their imposing figures.
To my astonishment, they appeared relatively younger than I had expected. Perhaps I had become too accustomed to the ageless visages of cultivators, who often bore the weight of many lifetimes behind their youthful appearances. One in particular, the youngest, caught my eye. His striking blue eyes, with a deep, captivating gaze, held an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality, leaving me momentarily breathless.
I couldn't believe it.
His hair was very long, cascading down to his thighs, a deep shade of navy blue that shimmered with an almost otherworldly light. Alongside his brows, they exuded an aura of command and dominion, an embodiment of authority that was impossible to ignore. Judging from the intricate pattern on his clothing—an azure embroidery adorned with bright silver and intricate dragon motifs—he must have belonged to the Azure Dragon Sect. In that fleeting moment when our eyes locked, a strange intensity enveloped us; I couldn't be certain if he was truly staring at me or gazing through me, but the connection felt palpable.
Suddenly, a burning sensation flared to life on my ring finger, and I struggled to suppress it, clenching my left fist tightly within my sleeves. I could not fathom why it had chosen this moment to act up, perhaps in response to his presence or the charged atmosphere around us. After what felt like an eternity of wrestling with the discomfort, the heat gradually subsided.
"You're all welcome to the Four Seasons Tournament," he proclaimed, his voice resonating like a clarion call. Instinctively, we bowed our heads in gratitude, a gesture of respect, before he and the other Cardinal Guardians ascended to a set of specially arranged seats that raised them above the rest of us, their authority unmistakable.
"What do you think is going on?" Chunho suddenly inquired, glancing at Wiman.
"I don't know," Wiman replied, his voice tense, though I could see the unease etched on his features. The air was thick with anticipation, and I sensed that even the most seasoned practitioners were unsettled by the unfolding events.
"It is very good to see some old faces again," the Grandmaster remarked, his voice steady yet imbued with a gravity that captured our full attention. "As you are all aware, even for the old members, this Tournament will be unlike anything you have ever experienced." His words hung heavy in the air, and at that moment, seven objects engulfed in vibrant, differently coloured lights materialised in the sky above us, forming an arrow that pointed upwards, a celestial omen.
A deep red spot shimmered at the apex, and as the light around it faded, my heart raced at what was revealed.
"The Red Naga Pearl!" Yi San exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and determination, unmistakably clear about his intentions. Its elevated position among the artefacts confirmed its status as the greatest of all prizes. Given that Yi San was the defending champion for the title of Warrior of Warriors, I knew that Wiman's competition would be fiercely contested.
"Before you lie seven different Divine Artefacts, purified and strengthened to generate fifth-grade divine energy, enhancing a practitioner's abilities against demons," the old man announced, his tone commanding silence and reverence. All eyes were fixed upon him.
"The SOLAR SPACE RING," he pronounced, and as he spoke, the ring moved to the centre of the others, emitting a brilliant glow that illuminated the entire arena before retreating to its original position. The ring represented not just power but a gateway to infinite possibilities, a vast inner world capable of opening and closing doors between realms.
"THE DIVINE EYE OF TRUTH AND PROVIDENCE," he pronounced yet again, gesturing towards a small golden orb that shimmered with an alluring light. "It's capable of seeing through all illusions, predicting the moves of a contender, and revealing the true intentions of both friend and foe." The power it possessed was profoundly intriguing, sparking a flicker of hope within me, yet I couldn't help but wonder about the weight of such insight.
He moved on to the next artefact. "THE STELLAR BOW," he declared, a weapon forged for combat, its size infinitely adjustable. "It generates enough energy to slay all ninth-grade demons and any enemies within the same cultivation bracket." His voice was steady, yet I could sense the excitement rippling through the crowd as some practitioners leaned forward, their eyes gleaming with ambition.
"THE SAPPHIRE MOONSTONE," he introduced as the fourth item, an artefact with a heart of ice. "Best suited for ice cultivators, it can induce extreme cold conditions. This stone has the ability to freeze and consume the energy of a foe, converting it into compatible energy that can be safely absorbed by its owner to enhance both physical and spiritual capabilities." While its potential was impressive, I realised it was not quite aligned with my own Flame cultivation, leaving me to ponder what it might mean to wield such power.
"The BLACK SUN SWORD," he continued, unveiling the fifth artefact. "Made from Supreme Divine Guardian platinum extracted from the heart of a Demon Pillar, it is imbued with the pure essence of light energy. This weapon can cut through anything, regardless of thickness, and it cannot be broken under normal cultivation laws. Its power is formidable, capable of inducing an eclipse." The sword's polished, smooth zigzag design was nothing short of breathtaking, a testament to the artistry and strength it embodied.
"The second artefact, the premium SHADOW ARMOUR." The audience fell into a deep state of shock, and I noticed that Yi San's expression mirrored the collective astonishment.
"The second most powerful armour in the world," the old man continued, his voice echoing with gravity, "forged from high-grade Heavenly platinum, foreign to this realm. It can protect its wearer from all forms of physical and mental attacks, and it can also condense into a personal shadow guard that fights alongside its master." The implications of such an artefact were staggering, igniting a sense of longing within me. "It belonged to the demon that was vanquished nearly thirty-five years ago," he added.
"What was that?" I asked, noticing that Yi San was lost in thought, his brow furrowed in contemplation.
"Who would think their relationship was that shallow?" he suggested, his eyes drifting up to the Cardinal Guardians, though I was uncertain which one had captured his attention.
"Why did the Eastern Guardian offer his own trophy?" murmurs rippled through the crowd, the Elder introducing the artefacts seemingly permitting the discussions to unfold.
"Everyone knows that thirty-five years ago, the Eastern Guardian pretended to fall in love with the Heir to the seat of the Sacred Blood Clan, who was born with the Spirit of Vengeance, a curse among Sacred Blood Descendants. Once he was possessed by Dark Matter and it began to consume his conscience, he killed him in the Battle of Nations and claimed the Shadow Armour as his trophy." Yi San's words carried a weight that lingered in the air, and I felt a wave of concern wash over me.
"You hate him for that?" I inquired, sensing the depth of his feelings.
"He might have been a demon, but at least he sincerely loved him," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. It was the first time I had seen such vulnerability in him since we had met, and it stirred something within me.
"Finally, the RED NAGA PEARL," the old man announced, his voice resonating with authority as he unveiled the final artefact, which radiated a brilliance that eclipsed all the others present.
"A power that is entirely ancient, this Naga Pearl contains the purified Eternal Flame of Origin, the only flame capable of making one a Mortal God, granting immense power over many supernatural forces and a thousand years of life." His words echoed the promises that Grandmaster Yu had once shared with us.
I could sense the collective awe that enveloped the crowd, too many souls captivated by its allure. While the Naga Pearl was undoubtedly the most coveted of the seven treasures, it was soon withdrawn from our sight, and our attention returned to the old man, who stood resolute before us.
"Those were the main gifts; however, in accordance with merit, additional treasures will be awarded to the most outstanding participants in the Tournament. With that said, let the Four Seasons Tournament begin!" His voice rose, cutting through the air, instantly accompanied by the blaring sound of trumpets and horns, harmonising with the rhythmic beat of ceremonial drums.
I was left wondering what was unfolding before us, an undercurrent of excitement and dread coursing through my veins.
The Eastern Guardian levitated forward, his power palpable, and with a flick of his wrist, he projected a disturbing image before us all. It materialised as dark, winged creatures ascending from human forms, born when a Demonic Pillar absorbed their life force, leaving behind a residue of dark matter. The sight was horrifying, a chilling reminder of the stakes we faced.
"Five years ago, for the first time in the history of mankind, the Divine Pillars, which had lain almost dormant, began to exhibit a strange, inexplicable phenomenon. This gave rise to a new race of abominable creatures we decided to call Nephilim—corrupted human beings, no longer normal but entirely consumed by the residual dark matter from the Demonic Pillars. We do not know why this is happening now, of all times. While we can assert that the Demonic Pillars have grown more powerful, I believe our encroachment on the Dark Continent to subdue the remaining sixty-six Demonic Pillars has induced them to reflexively, almost subconsciously, create these creatures to both nourish the Pillars and protect them from us." His voice was deep and laden with concern, a warning that resonated throughout the assembly.
"It's been nearly ten thousand years of conflict between us and the Demonic Pillars. You are suggesting that this phenomenon is new, yet we have heard of corrupted humans before—people who have come into contact with Dark Matter, including the previous generation Heir of the Sacred Blood Clan. Were they any different from these Nephilim?" one person inquired, scepticism etched in their tone.
"Yes," he responded firmly.
"How so?" Yi San asked, his eyes narrowing in curiosity as he studied the Elder.
"Former precedents of mortals corrupted by Dark Matter were merely puppets—individuals losing their sense of humanity and control, incapable of exercising their will. They were soulless bodies, reduced to empty mortal vessels. These new creatures, however, are perhaps a modification of that. They are children of the Demonic Pillars, somewhat weaker existences formed from residual dark matter. No longer merely empty vessels or soulless bodies, they are monsters with a conscience that is intricately linked to the central command of the Demonic Pillars, appearing in distorted shapes and sizes, a grotesque tapestry of life." His explanation hung heavy in the air, an unsettling truth that sent shivers down my spine.
"The first degree of victims couldn't be exorcised, so you're suggesting this new degree of victims no longer retains even the slightest hint of humanity?" Yi San pressed, his voice tinged with urgency.
In response, the Eastern Guardian projected another shocking scene—a visceral confrontation between the Nephilim and a human camp. The creatures gathered in menacing numbers, almost forming an army with distinct units, despite their apparent lack of direct leadership. It was as if they resonated with the pulsing glow of the Demonic Pillars, their movements fluid and instinctual. The pillars themselves seemed to embody a uniform supernatural intelligence, a heart and brain coordinating the actions of these grotesque beings.
As I watched the unfolding chaos, an unsettling realisation washed over me: we were facing an enemy not just of flesh and blood, but of a twisted evolution, a dark symbiosis that threatened to consume everything we held dear. The stakes had never been higher, and the shadows of the past loomed larger than ever, casting doubt on our ability to fight back.
"They are functioning like a centralised entity, even more efficiently than they did during the era of the Nine-Tailed Fox Spirit Demon King," another cultivator observed, his voice strained with concern.
"SAZA, NOEREUN, MURATO, CHEONCHU, BALHAEL, ONARA, KORDU—seven of our Settlement and Surveillance Camps in the Borderlands have been occupied over the last six months. What we face can only be described as a full-scale counter-invasion by the Nephilim. They are operating almost like high-grade military bases, strategically positioned to threaten our Continent. As we prepare to launch an attack in the very near future, most human soldiers in those areas and surrounding cities have already fallen victim. The defences that mankind has built over the last ten thousand years are beginning to crumble under this relentless assault, proving increasingly unreliable against this new threat. With nearly fifty-six failed crusades just this year, mortal martial practitioners have become liabilities. We can no longer trust them as frontline soldiers, fearing that they might instead become Nephilim once captured, swelling their ranks further." The Eastern Guardian's voice quavered, and for the first time, I saw genuine worry etched on his face.
"In other words, what the Tournament needs this time isn't just contestants, but an army?" Yi San's directness cut through the tension like a knife.
"There aren't too many Nephilim—not yet. At least, being distant from the concentrated human settlements, we can only count up to three thousand so far. There seems to be a limit to the energy that a Pillar can use to create them, and killing them is, for now, possible," he replied, his expression grave.
"That means we can eliminate every last one of them. But as long as the Pillars remain, they will continue to create more," I interjected, curiosity getting the better of me as we navigated this dire conversation.
"And that is the essence of this Tournament," he said, locking eyes with me. Even from a distance, I felt an overwhelming pressure emanating from him. "The challenge of this Tournament is to destroy a Demon Pillar," he clarified.
"In the Outlands?" came a voice, tinged with disbelief.
"Is he sane?" others murmured.
"Do we even have the experience for this?" questions began to circulate, doubt weaving through the crowd like a dark thread.
"I knew something was amiss. The high-grade rewards being displayed even before the Tournament kicked off are merely a sugar-coated façade, a way to mask the fact that they are sending us to our deaths," one cultivator remarked bitterly.
"No wonder even the Wanderers were invited to such a perilous competition," another added, the murmurs growing in volume and intensity. It was clear that many were deeply unsettled.
"It requires immense energy to destroy a Demon Pillar. A single person could consume half their life force during the process, or even perish from the sheer explosive energy released," Wiman articulated, his voice steady yet laden with apprehension. "At most, a concerted effort alone can help minimise the damage on our part, but even then, the rewards seem woefully inadequate for an undertaking that demands so many lives."
"It's natural for us to be worried. We haven't directly fought these wars, and for many Commune practitioners, you could say this is our first true encounter," Chunho added, his eyes scanning the crowd, capturing the shared anxiety.
"When the Demonic Pillars create the Nephilim, they expend a considerable amount of energy, rendering the Nephilim relatively weak, particularly in their resonance. This allows us to conclude that the chances of destroying the Pillars on our side are immensely high. It is for this reason that we believe the Nephilim have become increasingly temperamental and determined to protect the Pillars, making their expansion a secondary concern." The Eastern Guardian's words hung in the air, intended as reassurance, yet only partially successful; many remained unconvinced, doubt etched on their faces.
"The Tournament isn't compulsory. At this stage, you are all free to withdraw. Beyond this point, we expect you to fight to the death without defecting. We shall give anyone willing to leave the chance to do so. You may return your Cuff Token either as individuals or as a group, allowing us to reassign incomplete pairs down to the last person. In the meantime, I ask those who have made up their minds to continue participating to walk through the gate on the right of this square." His tone was resolute, but I sensed a tremor beneath it, a hint of the gravity of what lay ahead.
Wiman, Chunho, and I were resolute; we would not turn away from the challenge out of obligation alone. Yet as I glanced at Yi San, he grasped my hand tightly, leading the way forward, a gesture that filled me with both reassurance and concern. A few others followed suit, while participants from the Cardinal Sects and some outstanding communes remained steadfast, their determination unwavering. However, I noticed smaller communes releasing one or two individuals, alongside a few non-affiliated cultivators and wanderers still debating their fate.
The gate ushered us into a round hall where we stood for several minutes, waiting as others sorted themselves outside. Yi San's overly sentimental demeanour was unsettling to me, an emotional current that I could not ignore.
"Were you particularly close to the Eastern Guardian?" I finally dared to voice my curiosity, sensing a deep-rooted bias in his feelings. Part of his face was obscured by a mask, but I was intrigued nonetheless.
He looked at me, his gaze searching, as if weighing whether to open up. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts, before he muttered, "He's nothing like you think he is."
"What makes you think there's something I think about him?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. His response hinted at layers of complexity I had yet to grasp, and I felt a flicker of intrigue mixed with concern.
"I assumed you were like all the others. He is undoubtedly the most popular member of the Four Cardinal Guardians and the youngest at that. Achieving so much at such a young age has made him the envy of many. I suppose there was once a side of Suho that I found admirable when I was a boy, but perhaps they are right: people change once they taste power." His words lingered in the air, and I sensed that his feelings for Suho ran deeper than mere acquaintance.
I refrained from pressing further, wary of making him uncomfortable.
"What do you think they are going to do with us?" I asked, hoping to shift the conversation.
"I don't know," he replied bluntly. The finality in his tone hung heavily between us. Moments later, the Cardinal Guardians, accompanied by the Elders, flew in and positioned themselves before us.
The Elder from before stepped forward.
"Out of an initial five hundred pairs, only two hundred and nine remain. We are giving you one last chance to decide if you wish to participate in this Tournament or walk away. Once we proceed, there is no turning back for either side," he warned, his voice resonating with an undeniable authority.
Silence fell over the crowd. No one spoke, and as we exchanged glances, it was clear that everyone present had resolved to stay and face the contest ahead.
"I assume we are all ready," he muttered. At that moment, the Eastern Guardian took over, and our Cuff Tokens began to react instantaneously.
"You have all been paired with one another because you have been deemed compatible by the Cuff Tokens. This journey is yours to embark upon as pairs, bound to fight alongside one another, to protect and push each other. Not all of you will return alive, but you are obligated to make it out together. That is one thing that sets us apart from the Nephilim: we do not leave our comrades behind." His words were a rallying cry, a reminder of our shared humanity. With a wave of his hand, the ground beneath us softened, and before we knew it, we were plummeting through the air.
In an instant, the world shifted around me, and I found myself disoriented, unsure of where we were or what had just transpired. It was certain, however, that the Tournament had begun.
Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, I searched for Wiman, Chunho, or Yi San but could not find them. I wondered if the Cuff Tokens had malfunctioned; I was not alone in my search, as others around me also looked for their partners amidst the chaos.
I focused on my phantom body and, sensing that my powers were still active, I attempted to glide. To my relief, I could still fly. We were about five thousand feet high and descending rapidly into what appeared to be an expansive forest stretching for hundreds of miles. As I scanned the distance, I noticed several other groups falling alongside us, a flicker of relief sparking within me; they must be our fellow participants.
As I neared the ground, I activated my flight powers to ensure a soft landing. Others followed suit, and some used the trees to cushion their descent as we all converged at a single point, waiting for the rest of our party.
They caught up to us just outside what seemed to be an archway formed by gigantic trees. Thick, dark clouds loomed overhead, casting an eerie shadow across the landscape. Suddenly, I felt a warm hand grasp mine, a comforting presence amidst the uncertainty.
It was Yi San. I wasn't sure why he had developed the habit of holding my hand, but standing behind him, I felt a sense of safety, an unexpected comfort that was reassuring. His demeanor suggested he wasn't bothered by it, which only deepened my sense of security.
Our Tokens began to glow, projecting instructions into the air before us.
"Within the forest, you will find your foe. Do whatever it takes to ensure that you each retrieve two Fire and Ice Lanterns before their energy is absorbed. You have exactly six hours; those who do not succeed will be eliminated." The words echoed in the hushed atmosphere, and as I glanced around, I realised that everyone received the same directive. It became apparent who our competition was.
Some groups acted immediately, darting into the forest with fervour, but Yi San hesitated, as if weighing his options. His stillness intrigued me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, breaking the tension.
"This is unfamiliar territory. The trees are abnormally tall, and the lanterns we're supposed to retrieve likely belonged to high-ranking cultivators. If their power hasn't been absorbed, it means either the cultivators are the bait or the Nephilim are more advanced in thought than we realise," he explained, his insights sharpening my awareness of the looming danger.
"In other words, the forest is a trap," Wiman asserted, his voice low but firm.
"But it's not something we can avoid," Chunho insisted, his brow furrowed with determination.
"The only distinction among us contestants is that one group is the diversion or prey, while the other is the hunter," Yi San replied, his tone grave. Without another word, he lifted us both into the treetops.
"Let's move above," he commanded, and we complied silently. I followed, largely because he was a veteran in this competition, but also because I recognised that, having spent most of my life confined, he possessed knowledge about the world that I could only aspire to understand.
As we soared above the canopy, the vast expanse of the forest opened up beneath us, a sea of green shadowed by uncertainty. The stakes were higher than ever, and I could feel the weight of the challenge pressing down on us. With every heartbeat, the reality of our situation settled deeper into my bones. We were not merely participants in a contest; we were pawns in a larger game.
We ventured deep into the forest, maintaining our distance from the initial groups that were perhaps a bit too loud and reckless in their approach. It was a challenge for me to stay silent, knowing they were the bait. My thoughts were consumed by the singular focus of ensuring that Wiman secured the Naga Pearl.
As we pressed further into the dense thicket, I suddenly sensed a strange, unfamiliar presence that made me stop in my tracks. Despite being deep within the forest, an unsettling stillness enveloped us, with hardly any movement or trace of dark matter to indicate danger.
Yi San and Wiman noticed my hesitation and halted their advance as well.
"What is it?" Wiman, who was closest, asked before Yi San could speak. My inner conscience was restless, a nagging feeling that something was amiss.
"Something isn't right," I insisted, and they responded with a shared caution. We all scanned the trees around us, their branches trembling slightly. Yet, there was no wind, no natural sound in this eerie wilderness.
"It's a trap," I deduced, my voice barely above a whisper. "We've been surrounded."
As I conjured my sword, aiming it at one of the nearby branches, my instincts screamed at me. The blade deflected harmlessly, and suddenly, the bark began to shift, breaking its camouflage to reveal a group of hideous, corrupted creatures. Their red eyes glowed menacingly, and they moved on all fours, long, sharp claws digging into the earth. Each creature was a grotesque variant of the others, with hardened tissue around their joints and leathery wings unfurling from their backs. As they opened their mouths, I was struck by the sight of a cavernous maw filled with concentric rows of sharp teeth, a bottomless recess of hunger.
Positioned in the heart of the forest, it was clear they had been patient, lying in wait for us. And while we were now beyond the point of no return, I realised that the only path forward was to fight. The air thickened with tension as we braced ourselves for the oncoming onslaught.
In that moment, I understood the true nature of our challenge: survival was not just a goal; it was a desperate instinct.