The Titan Frog Spider moved like thunder stitched into shadow — fast, relentless, and eerily smooth.
Riven stood near the edge of the riding platform, expecting to feel the jarring thud of each leap, the sickening drop in his stomach with every bound. But the platform didn't shake. Not really. The air rushed past them in waves, the trees blurred below, but his feet remained steady. Balanced.
He glanced down. The surface beneath them was inscribed with thin, glowing lines — barely visible, but unmistakably part of a qi array.
He didn't know how it worked. But it did.
No bumpiness. No sway. Just… motion. Fast, efficient motion. Like the spider wasn't moving at all — and the world itself was sliding beneath them.
From up high, the world opened into strange, shifting glimpses of life.
They passed a village being raided. Smoke curled into the air like a black claw. Firelight glinted off rooftops. Tiny figures moved in a panic — running, shouting, dragging bundles through the dirt. Riven's hand clenched around the wooden rail. He took a half step forward, breath caught—
No one else moved.
Syen's voice came from behind him, casual.
"We're not heroes."
The words sat with him longer than they should have.
Hours later, they passed another village — this one glowing with warm golden light. Lanterns bobbed between trees. Paper fish floated lazily through the air, suspended by drifting talisman strings. Children laughed and chased each other across flower-strewn courtyards. There was music. Laughter.
Riven said nothing.
Just watched it pass.
Then the wilds took over.
For long stretches, the landscape twisted into untouched forest — deep green groves, shadowy cliffs, river-carved stone. Low mist hung like ghosts between the branches. The world here felt older than the sect. Older than anything. Civilization existed like scars cut into the body of something that would rather not be touched.
Now and then, they passed over small settlements — and every time, Riven could see it. The faces. Upturned. Pale.
Fear.
Mothers pulling children indoors. Elders freezing where they stood. Guards reaching for weapons before realizing there was no point.
No matter how peaceful the beast was, its shape still inspired dread.
And maybe that was the point.
At this point, Riven had no idea where he was.
Not that he'd had much of one to begin with.
The only anchor — if it could be called that — was the faint presence tugging at the edge of his awareness.
The Silkspine Spider. The green-tinged one from the trials.
He could feel it, distantly, through the tattoo on his hand.
Not pulling. Not calling.
Just... there.
Somewhere west of their path.
The spider traveled tirelessly — but they weren't as resilient as it.
They needed rest every now and then.
So they would stop at a clearing or shaded cliffside to feed and recover.
Meals were simple. Dried rations from storage, occasionally supplemented with something hunted or foraged nearby. No one complained.
The group, for the most part, had settled into an unspoken rhythm.
Ziren was quieter than expected.
Still stoic, still unreadable — but somehow always near Mei.
She did most of the talking. He did a lot of nodding.
Once, she handed him a bun and he looked like she'd given him a divine treasure.
Talia kept to herself.
She didn't seem distant — just… self-contained. She often sat a little ways off, near the edge of the camp, reading a thin journal or polishing the same blade with meticulous care.
Elder Syen was not much different, watching over the group with a faintly detached air.
And then there was Lara.
Riven hadn't expected to talk to her.
But it happened anyway. Short conversations — mostly practical. Observations about terrain. Passing notes about gear. A quiet exchange over firewood.
He didn't know when or how it had happened, but he felt quite comfortable around her.
Not comfortable enough to drop his guard.
But comfortable still.
On the morning of the fourth day, the spider began to slow.
Its pace shifted.
Ahead, the terrain rose into jagged ridges veined with root and stone, veiled in a haze of perpetual mist.
The spider veered into a shaded clearing beneath the shadow of a massive boulder. When it stopped, it did so without command.
Elder Syen stepped down first.
"It'll wait for us," he said simply. "We will walk the rest of the way."
No one questioned it.
Riven figured he didn't want to scare the city guards too much.
They disembarked in order — Mei with a stretch and a yawn, Ziren quietly helping her down, Lara adjusting her satchel without a word.
Riven glanced back once, as the spider curled its limbs beneath its body and settled into the clearing like a waiting sentinel.
Then they began the last leg on foot.
Eventually the path twisted through deep woods and climbed steadily upward, until the trees parted and the ridgeline opened into a sweeping vantage.
That was when Riven saw it.
And for a moment, he stopped walking.
Verdance.
He had expected a bustling city.
Maybe somewhere in the plains.
But most definitely not what he saw here.
Verdance wasn't a normal city.
It was a forest city.
Before him stood a living wall — not made of stone or steel, but of immense, ancient trees, their trunks so wide it would take twenty men to wrap their arms around one. Their colossal branches stretched outward and upward, interwoven like braids of green and bark, forming a near-impenetrable barrier around the city's edge.
Only one section was left open — a wide archway of shaped wood and carved vine, framed with flowering moss and guarded by two stationed guards in deep green robes.
But the rest?
The forest was the wall.
Beyond it, Riven could see the city unfolding upward rather than outward.
Wooden staircases and suspended bridges coiled like ivy around the trunks of the giant trees, connecting levels upon levels of shops, homes, and temples. Hollowed-out branches served as balconies. Glowing runes lit the underside of elevated walkways. From some direction, faint music drifted — bells, flutes, and laughter, carried on the breeze.
Lanterns — dozens, maybe hundreds — hung suspended from the canopy. Some on lines. Some just… floating, carried by strands of qi-infused paper or subtle talismans. They swayed with the wind like glowing fruit, casting soft pools of light onto the paths below.
He could only imagine what it looked down further into the city or how big it really was. The branching walls still obstructing his vision.
That is not what I expected.
He exhaled slightly and looked around.
Other than Mei and Elder Syen, everyone else looked just as astonished.
Ziren's expression had flattened into neutrality, but his eyes lingered on the lanterns above.
Lara took a quiet step forward, mouth parted slightly.
Even Talia, who had said almost nothing the entire trip, seemed to pause longer than expected.
It wasn't long before they reached the entrance.
The two guards stood on either side of the wide wooden archway.
"Identification," one of them called out.
Elder Syen stepped forward without hesitation.
He reached into his sleeve and retrieved a polished jade badge — etched with the sigil of an open lotus, its petals ringed with seven tiny script marks.
An elder's badge.
But not a Venomthread Sect badge.
Riven's eyes flicked to it.
Green Lotus Sect.
A decently well-regarded, mid-tier sect known for its expertise in medicine, alchemy, and occasional combat support.
It looked authentic.
Because it was.
Syen had explained it to them during the trip — briefly, and with that same cool detachment he always used.
The Green Lotus Sect did, in fact, exist.
It had it's own location. Recruited disciples. Sold pills.
But what almost no one knew — what not even the city authorities suspected — was that the Green Lotus Sect was just a front.
A convenient mask.
For the real organization:
The Venomthread Sect.
The badge Elder Syen held now was a key.
And the city would accept it like any other.
The guard leaned forward to inspect it, then gave a small nod.
"Looks in order," he said. "Welcome to Verdance."
But his eyes lingered a moment longer, flicking across their group — over Ziren's plain robes, Lara's silken bracers, Talia's shimmering threadwork, and finally, Riven's subtly armored outfit.
His brow furrowed slightly.
"…Bit eclectic for disciples of Green Lotus," he muttered.
Syen's voice was calm. "We're on an undercover mission. I trust you'll say nothing about our presence."
That gave the guard immediate pause. He straightened quickly, eyes shifting away.
"O-of course, Elder. Understood."
Syen gave a faint nod.
And just like that, the group passed through the archway — into the living city of trees, lanterns, and secrets.
The gate closed quietly behind them.