The morning mist clung to the Twin Leaf Peak Sect like an old quilt that refused to be shaken off. Down below, the trio of Han Yu, Wu Shuan, and Fatty Kui made their way along the winding trail that curved away from the sect grounds and into the thickening wilderness.
Fatty Kui had, sohow, managed to strap an entire basket of snacks to his back. It swayed ominously with every step, occasionally rattling like it was possessed by a restless pickle jar spirit.
"So..." Han Yu finally broke the silence as a bird chirped sowhere in the trees. "What do you two know about the Mist Eye Sect? I don’t know much aside from the fact that they’re in the Ending Spine Mountains and kind of shady."
Wu Shuan, walking at the front with a steady pace, glanced over his shoulder.
"They’re unorthodox," he said simply.
"Unorthodox?" Han Yu tilted his head. "As in... villainous? Evil? Cannibalistic?"
"Not necessarily," Wu Shuan replied. "Unorthodox doesn’t always an evil. It ans they don’t follow the righteous cultivation path our sect and most major powers recognize. Their thods, beliefs, and techniques tend to be... unconventional."
Fatty Kui piped up from behind. "And creepy. Don’t forget creepy."
Wu Shuan nodded. "That too."
Han Yu rubbed his chin. "Then why hasn’t the sect just... I don’t know, destroyed them? If they’re that shady, shouldn’t soone have wiped them out by now?"
"That’s not how it works," Wu Shuan said. "The Mist Eye Sect isn’t so ragtag gang of mountain bandits. They’re a real force in the region. Small, yes, but dangerous. Their numbers might be limited, but their techniques are built around illusion, perception, and ntal interference. It’s hard to fight what you can’t see properly."
Fatty Kui shivered. "I heard one of their elders can make you think your own feet are traitors trying to escape your body. One guy started kicking himself because he thought his toes owed him money!"
Han Yu stared. "...What?"
"It’s true!" Fatty Kui insisted. "Probably."
Wu Shuan cleared his throat. "Aside from their strange techniques, their location also makes them hard to attack. The Ending Spine Mountains aren’t just nad that for fun. Our sect might be in a good spot but the terrain where their sect is located is particularly difficult. There is steep, jagged, and full of beast-infested ravines. Launching a full assault would be like asking the heavens for a twisted ankle and a tragic backstory."
Han Yu mulled it over. "So we’re not at war with them, but we don’t exactly send them mooncakes on New Year either."
"Correct," Wu Shuan said. "It’s a tense balance. Every few decades, there are skirmishes, maybe a small-scale battle if one side crosses a line. Then things settle again. Both sects know it’s better to posture than to commit. A war would hurt everyone."
"Which ans we shouldn’t poke any Mist Eye hornets while we’re there," Han Yu concluded.
"Exactly," Wu Shuan confird.
"Wait, do Mist Eye hornets exist?" Fatty Kui suddenly asked. "Because if they do, I’m heading back."
"They don’t," Wu Shuan sighed.
"Oh good. Because last week, I got stung by sothing I swear had four eyes. I’m still not convinced it wasn’t plotting my assassination."
Han Yu groaned. "We’re not even halfway to the ravine and you’re already hallucinating. Maybe the Mist Eye Sect is involved."
They continued walking, the forest slowly growing denser as the trail narrowed. The trees beca tall and spindly, their upper branches weaving together into a green canopy that filtered the sunlight into flickering patches. Every now and then, the wind would blow and scatter leaves across their path like golden butterflies.
"Still," Han Yu said after a while, "even if the sect’s dangerous, why would they bother with one elder’s sword? If they’ve already got it, why not just lt it down or auction it off?"
Wu Shuan shook his head. "They might not even know they have it. Or maybe they do, but it’s hidden sowhere deep in the terrain. The sword could’ve been lost in the scuffle, buried under rubble, or even taken by a passing beast."
Han Yu frowned. "Then we’re walking into unknown territory with no guarantees and lots of potential danger."
"Sounds like a mission," Wu Shuan replied dryly.
Fatty Kui exhaled dramatically. "I miss the old days. You know, the ones where we just scamd people or held a fake gambling ring."
"Those were your favorite?" Han Yu asked.
"We had snack breaks, Brother. That’s important."
"You guys were scamrs?" Wu Shuan suddenly felt like Han Yu’s antics made sense now.
"It’s complex." Han Yu simply replied.
"I won’t ask further." Wu Shuan didn’t want to burden his mind with that information.
They reached a small resting point where the trees thinned out just enough for a decent view of the distant peaks. Wu Shuan checked their position on the map while Han Yu drank so water and Fatty Kui attempted to smuggle a stead bun past Han Yu’s increasingly judgntal gaze.
"We’ll reach the Broken Fang Ravine in a nine to ten days if we keep pace," Wu Shuan said. "After that, we’ll need to search the area quietly. If any Mist Eye disciples are still nearby, we avoid confrontation."
"Got it," Han Yu nodded. "Grab the sword, run back, and don’t get turned into a chicken nugget by illusion arts."
"That’s the spirit," Wu Shuan said.
Fatty Kui blinked. "Wait... what if the sword itself is cursed sohow or sothing?"
Han Yu groaned. "It’s a sword, Kui. Not a haunted flute."
"You say that now, but I’ve seen things."
"You once thought your reflection winked at you."
"It did, I swear!"
Wu Shuan stood. "Let’s move."
As they resud their journey, Han Yu took one last glance at the sky. The wind had picked up slightly, and there was a faint scent in the air—sharp, like old incense or scorched tal.
He didn’t like it.
He had survived his first major mission by sheer luck and a lot of pain.
This ti, he needed more than luck.
He needed strength, wits, and possibly a muzzle for Fatty Kui.
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