A disheveled white figure flashed out from the undergrowth like a vengeful ghost.

It was Shen Hanyi!

Her face was deathly pale, her breathing ragged and shallow. Her white dress was a ruin, shredded and blooming with crimson stains in a dozen places. Even the hand clutching her sword trembled with the strain of holding its weight. She was a candle flickering in a storm; that last strike had cost her nearly everything she had left.

Having landed her blow, she didn’t even spare a glance for Zhou Kai. Her icy, lethal gaze locked onto Chen An on the opposite side of the clearing.

The truth was grim. After her desperate battle with the Heavenly Spring Sect disciples days ago, she had collapsed, her spiritual sea bone-dry. But the sect’s hounds were relentless. When the search team arrived, she had forced her broken body awake, fighting a bloody retreat step by agonizing step.

Knowing she couldn’t break through the encirclement on Crouching Tiger Mountain, she had gambled on “hiding in plain sight.” After a series of maneuvers to shake her tail, she had doubled back to the very site of the initial slaughter. There, she dug a shallow, camouflaged pit, suppressed her aura to the point of near-death, and buried herself to recover.

She hadn’t expected to be unearthed by a pair of minor clan lackeys.

“Shen Hanyi!” Chen An exclaimed, his voice a mix of terror and predatory glee. He was shocked by his companion’s instant death, but the thought of the Heavenly Spring Sect’s massive bounty made his pulse race.

As a Qi Condensation Sixth Layer cultivator, his reflexes were sharp. He immediately summoned an earthen-yellow shield artifact that hummed with defensive power. Without a second’s delay, he snatched a crimson talisman from his robe, flooded it with Qi, and hurled it skyward.

Whoosh!

A brilliant pillar of light pierced the canopy and exploded, transforming into a fist-sized orb of blood-red light that hung suspended in the air. A signal flare.

With the signal sent, Chen An fixed a fierce, murderous glare on Shen Hanyi. “So you really were ratting away here! Today, your head is mine!”

Shen Hanyi wasted no words. Though her body was failing, the lethality of a sword cultivator remained etched in her soul. With a flick of her wrist, her flying sword ignited into a streak of silver light, screaming toward Chen An’s throat!

MODE B: COMBAT / VIOLENCE

Chen An roared, pouring every drop of his Qi into his shield. The artifact erupted in a brilliant amber glow. Simultaneously, his fingers blurred through hand seals.

The ground buckled. Jagged earthen spikes erupted from the soil, crisscrossing like the teeth of a giant to trap the swordswoman.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Silver light hammered against the shield, sending a shower of sparks into the humid air. Shen Hanyi moved like a withered leaf in a gale, weaving through the stone spikes with impossible grace, her blade striking from elusive, unpredictable angles.

Normally, as a Sword Control Seventh Layer cultivator, she would have swatted Chen An aside like a fly. But now, she was running on fumes. As Chen An leaned into his shield and unleashed a relentless barrage of earthen spikes, the tide began to turn. She was being suppressed.

Zhou Kai watched from the shadows, his heart thundering against his ribs.

The opportunity!

A heaven-sent chance to kill with a borrowed knife!

Chen An had to die. If the Heavenly Spring Sect reinforcements arrived now, Zhou Kai would be forced to hand over the storage bags he had just “liberated.”

“I, Zhou Kai, don’t give a damn about grand schemes,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing to slits. “In this world, resources and beauties are the only true laws.”

He felt the Flight Escape Talisman tucked in his sleeve. He could strike, and if it went south, he could vanish.

Seizing the moment when the two were locked in a stalemate, he let out a roar of feigned, desperate loyalty:

“Brother Chen! Hold on! I’m coming to help!”

The shout was thunderous, echoing through the trees. Chen An, struggling to maintain his shield against the silver sword, felt a surge of relief. Even a Fourth Layer pipsqueak like Zhou Kai was an extra pair of hands.

The moment Chen An instinctively lowered his guard to allow “friendly” reinforcement—Zhou Kai struck.

He didn’t charge the girl. Instead, with a flick of his wrist, five Lightning Strike Talismans appeared between his fingers, crackling with violent blue energy.

“Die!”

He hurled all five at Chen An’s exposed back.

“Zhou Kai! You—!”

Chen An felt the surge of killing intent and turned his head, his face twisting in pure terror. He never dreamed the man he looked down upon would turn traitor. He tried to pivot his shield, but he was too slow.

Shen Hanyi was a veteran of a hundred slaughters. She didn’t care why the men were fighting; she only saw the opening. Her eyes flashed with a cold, lethal light.

Szzzt! CRACK!

Five bolts of lightning slammed into Chen An’s spine. His protective light shattered like glass. His body convulsed, his blood boiling under the electrical surge. Staggering, he fell forward.

In that same heartbeat, Shen Hanyi’s flying sword bypassed the shield at a punishing angle and buried itself in his throat.

“Urk… you… won’t… end well…”

Chen An’s eyes bulged, blood bubbling from his mouth as he stared at Zhou Kai. He collapsed, his life-blood soaking into the thirsty earth.

Silence returned to the forest, broken only by the wind and Shen Hanyi’s ragged, wet gasps for air.

Zhou Kai nimbly retreated. With a practiced gesture, he snagged the two storage bags from the corpses. He checked his talisman one last time.

Two warm corpses. One blood-red signal in the sky. One scheming Guest Elder. One dying sword fairy.

“Run!”

That was the only logic left. He wasn’t stupid enough to try and capture her. He didn’t want a Foundation Establishment Pill enough to risk a desperate, final strike from a sword cultivator. A cornered tiger is more dangerous than a healthy horse.

Without hesitation, he flooded the Flight Escape Talisman with power. A pale cyan light enveloped him, and in a heartbeat, he vanished.

Shen Hanyi’s eyes flickered with surprise. She hadn’t expected the “righteous” hero to turn tail and run so decisively.

Three hundred meters away, perched high in the canopy of a massive tree, Zhou Kai suppressed his aura and looked back at the clearing.

“Heh, I’d give that performance an 82. I’ll give myself the remaining 18 as a bonus for being so damn smooth.”

He watched. Shen Hanyi was a wreck, but she was still a Seventh Layer expert. Maybe she could hold out long enough for him to see if the next wave of disciples was weak enough to rob.

Whoosh!

The air groaned. A young male cultivator landed gracefully in the center of the clearing. It was the same elite disciple who had been trailing Chen Xingze at the banquet.

“Shen Hanyi? Surrender. Come back to the sect and I’ll ensure you aren’t broken too badly. If you resist… don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

“In your dreams!” Shen Hanyi’s voice was like cracked ice. She summoned the last dregs of her strength, her sword emitting a mournful, clear ring as she launched a desperate streak of golden-white energy at his face.

“You refuse the easy way? Fine!”

The disciple sneered, unfurling a white jade fan. With a fierce wave, a gale erupted, scattering her sword energy like dust. He was fresh; she had less than ten percent of her power left.

“A spent arrow still trying to pierce the wind?” He pressed forward, his fan conjuring several cyan wind blades that hissed through the air toward her limbs.

Zhou Kai, watching from the leaves, frowned. This guy is a real piece of work. No concept of ‘cherishing the jade.’ How can you strike such a beauty?

He began to calculate. Top-tier beauty. Innate Sword Embryo. Superior Metal Spirit Root. If I can get her into a ‘Deep Interaction,’ my points will hit the moon.

In the clearing, Shen Hanyi dodged a blade, but her dress was shredded further, adding new cuts to her battered body. Her gaze remained stubborn—the iron will of a sword cultivator.

The disciple grew impatient. His next wind blades were aimed to maim.

“What a waste,” Zhou Kai thought, his hand reaching for his artifacts.