"What!?" Luotian snapped his head toward Yue'er, his azure eyes wide with shock.
Beside him, Wuji trembled, his massive frame rigid with fear. As a commoner, Luotian was effectively "spirit-blind"—he couldn't feel the tidal wave of malicious intent radiating from the wolf, but the sight of his powerful friends reduced to trembling husks told him everything he needed to know.
"W-Why... why is it here?" Goddess Mei's voice was a thin, breaking thread. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the advancing Wight Wolf, its paws silent against the forest floor despite its massive weight.
The beast watched them with cold intelligence, its steady gaze making their fear worse.
Pah!
The sharp crack of a palm strike broke the silence. Wuji had slammed his hands together, the sting jolting him out of his fear. His face set into a mask of grim, suicidal resolve.
"Sister Mei, take Brother Feng and run! I'll draw its eyes!" he roared, the urgency in his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade.
"No!" Yue'er fired back, her own pride flaring through the terror. "Let me draw it away! I have the movement techniques—I'm the only one with a chance of surviving!"
Wuji scowled at her. "And how am I supposed to carry Luotian to safety with my speed? What if that monster realizes I'm the slower prey and circles back? You're the wind, Yue'er. Take him and fly. Now go!"
Yue'er hesitated, her heart tearing between her duty to protect Luotian and her agony at leaving Wuji to a certain death.
"I said GO!"
Without waiting for her answer, Wuji ignited every drop of Theríon in his veins. A deep grinding sound came from his body as his skin hardened into granite. With a guttural, primal roar that shook the very leaves of the Thicket, he charged headlong at the One Talon nightmare.
Seeing Wuji's massive, stone-clad form hurtle toward certain death, Yue'er knew the window of opportunity was closing. Gritting her teeth until they felt ready to shatter, she clamped a hand onto Luotian's shoulder.
"Hold on!" she hissed.
She ignited her Theríon to its absolute limit. Coiling serpents of emerald light lashed out from her skin, wrapping around both of them in a frantic, humming cocoon. She anchored her will to a distant point in the treeline.
Peng!
The sound of fracturing space echoed through the clearing. In an instant, the world turned into a nauseating, green-tinted blur. They vanished, reappearing a hundred meters away, only for the air to crack again.
Peng! Peng!
They were skipping across the landscape like stones across a lake. Every leap burned through Yue'er's reserves, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Ahead of them, nearly twelve kilometers away, stood the looming silhouette of the city's wall.
It was their only hope. The ramparts were manned by Seven Fangs Veterans and overseen by a Four Talons City Guard Captain—warriors who could turn a Wight Wolf into a rug in seconds. If they could just reach the shadow of those fortifications, the nightmare would end.
* * *
Back in the clearing, Sun Wuji was a whirlwind of granite and grit.
He launched himself into the air, coming down with a thunderous, earth-shaking stomp that turned the forest floor into a crater of shrapnel. Mid-descent, his stone-clad fists became a blur, punching the mid-air debris toward the wolf like a barrage of cannonballs.
The rocks shattered against the wolf's hide in a spray of dust, but the beast didn't even flinch. To a One Talon monster, Wuji's desperate assault was nothing more than an irritating drizzle.
With a chilling, calculated indifference, the Wight Wolf's gaze flickered away from Wuji. It locked onto the shimmering green trails left by Yue'er's retreat. With a sudden, explosive burst of speed, the beast ignited into a gray streak, leaving Wuji behind as if he were a stationary rock.
"Wait—?!" Wuji's brain stalled for a heartbeat. The beast's indifference stung. "You're not ignoring me, you mangy prick!"
He sprinted after the blur, his stone legs churning through the mulch. Spotting a boulder the size of a small carriage in his path, Wuji roared, channeling every remaining drop of Theríon into his core. His muscles groaned under the strain as he gripped the stone, shattered a massive chunk free, and heaved it with a primal, back-breaking scream.
BAM!
The projectile caught the Wight Wolf mid-leap. The impact sounded like two mountains colliding. The massive beast was knocked sideways out of the air, its carnivorous grace vanishing as it tumbled into the dirt, carving a long, muddy trench through the undergrowth.
"Gotcha!" Wuji's roar of triumph echoed through the trees.
But the victory died in his throat. The Wight Wolf didn't snarl; it didn't even look at the spot where the boulder had struck its ribs. It simply rolled back onto its massive paws, shook the dust from its ashen fur as if it were a minor nuisance, and locked its gaze back on the horizon.
It paid Wuji no further attention.
Drained of every scrap of Theríon, Wuji's legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees, his granite skin cracking and flaking away to reveal pale, trembling flesh. He gasped for air, his lungs burning.
"This isn't... just a hungry predator," he wheezed, the realization hitting him like a second boulder. "It has a target."
The beast had not once tried to attack him. It was after something other than a meal.
Teeth gritted against the exhaustion, Wuji forced himself back to his feet. His muscles felt like wet lead, but the adrenaline of panic kept him upright. "Not good. If it's truly after Luotian and Yue'er..."
He scanned the clearing, his eyes darting between the towering trunks. The silver mist of the Warland Thicket seemed to thicken, swirling in the spots where the beast had just been standing.
The Wight Wolf was gone.
A cold sweat broke out across Wuji's brow. The silence of the forest was suddenly more terrifying than the roar of the chase. He knew their trajectory—the straightest line to the City Walls. With a frustrated cry, he set off after them, his boots pounding the dirt as he tried to reach his friends before the wolf did.
* * *
On the trail toward the city, the emerald flashes were becoming irregular.
"Yue'er, stop. We need to find cover," Luotian said, his voice cutting through the whistling wind of their movement. He looked at her closely, his heart sinking. The vibrant, rosy glow of her complexion had vanished, replaced by a ghost-white pallor. Beads of cold sweat lined her forehead, and her grip on his shoulder was beginning to tremble.
Yue'er shook her head, her jaw locked in a stubborn line. "We can't. Even if we've lost sight of it, we can't stop. The only absolute safety is behind those walls, Luotian. I have to get you there."
Luotian let out a sharp, grounding sigh, forcing her to look at him. "Yue'er, look how far you're jumping. Carrying me is draining your Theríon. Each Aurora Treading Step is shorter than the last. At this rate, you'll run out miles before we reach the gates. If that wolf catches us when you have nothing left, we're both dead."
Yue'er stumbled slightly, her boots skidding on a root as the logic finally pierced through her panic. She came to a halt, leaning heavily against a moss-covered trunk.
"You have to conserve what's left for a worst-case scenario," Luotian urged, his voice dropping to a low, tactical whisper. "We find cover and watch for it. If it's hunting by scent or sight, we need to break the trail. Besides..." He looked back toward the heart of the forest, his eyes dark with guilt. "I won't leave Wuji behind without knowing he's standing. We wait."
After a long, agonizing heartbeat of hesitation, Yue'er nodded reluctantly. "Alright. We hide."
They took refuge inside an ancient hollow tree. Thick moss, shelf fungi, and hanging vines covered the bark, concealing them from view.
Inside, the air was damp and smelled of old earth. They huddled together, their breathing synchronized in a shallow, frantic rhythm. Minutes stretched into an eternity, the silence of the Thicket growing so heavy it felt like it was pressing against their eardrums.
"I don't like this," Yue'er whispered, her voice barely a tremor. "The forest has gone dead. It's too quiet."
"I don't like it either," Luotian muttered, his eyes fixed on the sliver of light peeking through the bark. "I can't shake the sensation of eyes on the back of my neck."
Then, he felt it—a strange, cloying warmth creeping into the cramped space. The warmth was damp and close, like a predator's breath against his skin. His shoulders tensed.
Luotian forced himself to think through his rising panic. "Yue'er, help me make sense of this. First, how did a beast that powerful get within striking distance without you or Wuji sensing a single ripple? And second, why is a One Talon nightmare prowling the low-level fringes of the Thicket?"
Yue'er's brow furrowed, her emerald eyes darting toward the shadows. "I can answer the first. It's a trait unique to the Wight Wolf Bloodline: Ghost Walk. I saw the scrolls in my father's private archives. A Wight Wolf can suppress its Theríon signature until it's practically a phantom. The higher its rank, the more absolute the silence."
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "But the technique isn't perfect. It erases the aura, but it cannot erase the physical. Displaced leaves, snapped twigs, the weight of a paw—those stay real. To get that close, a Wight Wolf usually has to move with agonizing slowness, inch by deliberate inch."
"Then why didn't it get closer before revealing itself?" Luotian asked, his mind working through the implications.
"That's my question too," Yue'er replied. "Given its strength as a Talon Monster, it should've approached unnoticed. We were talking—it would've been impossible for us to hear it. But instead, it chose to reveal itself and use suppressive force, which is less efficient than Ghost Walk. That doesn't add up."
Luotian nodded, his mind spinning. The logic was a small shield against the growing dread. "And the second question? Why is it even in the shallows of the Thicket?"
"I don't have an answer," Yue'er admitted, her eyes never leaving the gap in the bark. "The hierarchy of the Warland Thicket is absolute. A Seven Fangs beast is the king of this outer rim. A Talon monster coming this far out is like a shark entering a tide pool. It's unnatural. Once we're behind the walls, I'll ask my father if—"
She stopped midsentence. Her entire body went rigid.
"W—?" Luotian started, but Yue'er's hand clamped over his mouth with bruising force. She pressed a single finger to her lips, her emerald eyes wide and trembling.
It's here, she mouthed.
Luotian's stomach dropped. Where? he signaled back, his hands shaking.
With a slow, agonized movement, Yue'er pointed toward a dense cluster of ferns less than a hundred meters away. Luotian squinted, his vision blurring from the strain, but he saw only shadows and swaying leaves.
In truth, even Yue'er couldn't "see" it. The Wight Wolf had slipped back into its Ghost Walk, its Theríon signature reduced to a microscopic hum that only her elite senses could detect. It was a phantom moving through a physical world.
Then, Luotian saw it.
A patch of damp soil just outside their hollow tree suddenly compressed. A heavy, triangular indent appeared in the mud, followed by the faint, sickening squelch of weight shifting. There was nothing there—no fur, no claws—only the invisible pressure of a massive killer inching toward their hiding spot.
Luotian went cold. It was right outside their hiding place.
As a cripple, I can't sense any aura, Luotian thought, his teeth grinding in frustration. There is no way I should be able to track a stealth-cloaked Talon beast.
But as he watched the invisible weight crush the mud, a dark, horrifying realization dawned. He gripped Yue'er's arm, his fingers digging into her sleeve.
"Yue'er, we have to move! Now!" he hissed, his voice vibrating with gravity.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, her senses still fixated on the faint energy trail. "Why? If we break cover, we're exposed."
"Think! Why would it use Ghost Walk if it didn't already know our location?" Luotian's eyes were wide with urgency. "It isn't searching for us, Yue'er. It's positioning itself for the kill."
Yue'er's eyes widened in horror as she understood.
Swish.
The faint, humming pressure she had been tracking suddenly vanished. The air went deathly still—
BOOOM!
Without a growl or a warning, a massive, furred limb obliterated the tree trunk. Wood exploded around them in a cloud of jagged splinters.
Yue'er's instincts, honed by years of elite training, saved them. She threw herself backward, dragging Luotian out of the epicenter of the blast. A shard of wood grazed her forearm, slicing through the fabric and skin, but the crushing weight of the paw missed them by an inch.
She didn't stop to breathe. She ignited a frantic chain of Aurora Treading Steps, the green light flickering dangerously like a dying candle. They blurred through the undergrowth, reappearing several hundred meters away behind a dense, iron-wood thicket.
She shoved Luotian into the deep shadows of the roots. Her breathing was a ragged, wet sound. Crimson blood was already soaking her sleeve, dripping rhythmically onto the dead leaves below.
"Stay here, Luotian," she whispered, her voice faint with pain and exhaustion. She cast a final, lingering look back at the path they had traveled, her emerald eyes dimming as her strength waned.
"Wuji is tough... it can't have finished him off that quickly. He has to be alive." She swallowed hard, trying to anchor her fading hope. "Let's just pray he finds us soon. If he doesn't... we're doomed."
Before he could voice a protest, she tore herself away. Leaving the relative safety of the shadows, she bolted into the dense treeline—a lone, wounded figure drawing the nightmare away from the only person she had left to protect.