Robert moved through the trees without slowing, though the fight still pulsed in his ribs and shoulder. The forest behind him was no longer quiet. Blood had soaked into the roots and leaves. Although the bodies were left untouched, beasts would gather. The scent alone would carry. He had taken what mattered.
From the Spirit Root Level 7 assassin, he removed the storage ring carefully, wiping the blood from the tal before slipping it into his sleeve. The other three rings followed. A few spirit stones. Two mid-grade healing pills. A narrow, curved blade that had nearly opened his side. He left the rest.
He did not look back. When he reached the concealed hollow where the others hid, he did not announce himself. He stepped into view only after making sure no one had followed.
Ronan rose first. The motion was stiff. His spear leaned against a rock, its tip darkened from earlier combat. Sarah was sitting against a tree, sleeve torn and shoulder wrapped in a cloth already stained through. Taylen's knuckles were swollen. Sai remained seated but alert, eyes tracking Robert's approach. Eissa's posture eased the mont she saw him alone.
No one asked how many. No one needed to. The tension drained slowly, not all at once. Ronan exhaled through his nose. Taylen straightened a little as if embarrassed to doubt. Sarah studied Robert's side, noticing the blood beneath his tunic.
Four. That was the silent count. Robert lowered himself onto a flat stone. He said we will recover first from the inquiries. Then we move. No one spoke. No relief loud enough to carry through the trees. They understood the battle between survival and death had been thin.
As they settled into cultivation, the forest pressed close again. The earlier clash had shifted sothing. The qi in the area was unsettled, drifting unevenly. Eissa adjusted her breathing to compensate. Sai mirrored her instinctively.
Robert took one of the healing pills and swallowed it dry. The effect was not dramatic. It spread gradually through his ridians, easing torn channels and calming the turbulence in his dantian. He began drawing qi carefully, smoothing the rough edges left by battle.
Hours passed. Ronan's breakthrough ca first. It did not arrive gently. His breathing deepened, then stuttered. Veins stood out along his neck as qi surged through pathways not yet fully prepared. He clenched his jaw, refusing to let the strain show outwardly. The mory of standing before a Level 7 assassin lingered in him. The realisation that he had nearly fallen faster than he could react.
His qi thickened. A tremor ran through his limbs as the barrier cracked. Spirit Root — Third Level, Mid-Stage.
When the surge settled, Ronan lowered his head briefly. Not pride. A quiet acknowledgent of distance still to cover.
Sarah followed later. Her breakthrough was different. Quieter. Controlled. She adjusted her breathing, refined it, shaved excess from each circulation. Where Ronan had pushed through resistance, she narrowed it. Her qi tightened like a drawn thread and slipped forward cleanly.
Spirit Root Level Four — Low Stage. Her eyes opened slowly. There was relief there, but also sothing else. Expectation. If this was the pace required to stand in true combat, she would accept it.
Taylen struggled the longest in the breakthrough. His path had always been blunt and direct. Head-on collisions in dintain. This ti, he did not rush.
He sat still for nearly an hour before attempting the push. When he finally did, it was deliberate. asured. Spirit Root Level Three — Mid-Stage.
He let out a breath he had been holding since morning. The fight had taught him sothing no lecture could. Recklessness was not bravery. Robert observed them without comnt. This was how growth should look. Earned. Uneven. Honest.
He distributed the spirit stones taken from the assassins' storage ring without any explanation. They understood.
When they finally rose, he noticed the difference imdiately. Ronan no longer stomped when he walked. His steps were placed, not thrown.
Sarah's movents carried less urgency. More intention. Taylen's shoulders had lowered. Less tension, less wasted energy.
Sai and Eissa had changed, too, though in smaller ways. Their eyes scanned less frantically. They trusted what they sensed. They were not transford.
They were adjusted. Robert felt the shift in the forest before he spoke. Blood scent still hung faintly in the air from the earlier clashes. Predators would follow trails. And if the Walker Clan sent more scouts, they would not remain blind for long.
We leave now. No one objected. They moved before full darkness, using fading light to mask their path. Robert erased signs where possible, scuffing footprints, diverting through shallow water when available.
On the way out, he checked the storage ring from the Level 7 assassin briefly while the others drank from a stream.
Inside were more spirit stones than expected. A communication talisman cracked at the edge. A folded cloth bearing the Walker insignia was stitched subtly into the seam.
Confirmation. The Walker Clan would not let this pass quietly. He closed the ring and said nothing. The journey back felt longer than when they entered days earlier. Not because of distance, but because awareness had sharpened. Each snapped twig was evaluated. Each breeze tested.
They did not speak much. Once, Taylen started to say sothing light, then stopped halfway. No one laughed. By the ti the tree line thinned and the outer forest of Magical City ca into view, night had fully settled. Distant lanterns flickered beyond low stone walls. Smoke rose from the cookfires.
Normal life. They did not look like heroes returning. They looked like young cultivators who had learned sothing expensive. The city guards at the outer gate noticed the blood and torn cloth but asked no questions. Clans trained. Forests were dangerous. That was enough explanation.
Inside the Osborn compound, lanterns burned low. A few late servants moved quietly across courtyards. No one announced their arrival. They returned to their rooms separately.
Before entering his own, Robert paused in the courtyard and looked once toward the dark sky beyond the walls. This week had changed them.
The forest had not given gifts freely. It had stripped hesitation, exposed weakness, and demanded paynt in blood.
It had also hardened sothing. Inside his sleeve, the weight of four storage rings pressed lightly against his wrist. The Walker Clan would notice the absence of ten n.
They would count losses. And they would respond. Robert turned and went inside his room without further thought. Tomorrow, they would rest first. After that, preparation would begin again.
User Comments
0 comments from readers