The wild valley stretched out like an ancient, scarred amphitheater beneath a bruised sky. Craggy, rust-colored cliffs jutted into the clouds, framing a dense canopy of obsidian-leaved trees below. High above, the leathery wings of winged leviathans sliced through the air, casting sweeping shadows that swallowed the forest floor in fleeting moments of darkness. Low growls and the rustle of hidden scales echoed from the thickets, a constant promise of violence.
Shaurya strolled through the center of the path, his boots sinking lightly into the damp loam. Behind him, his disciples marched in a wide V-formation, their shoulders relaxed and their weapons slung casually over their shoulders. Not a single eye darted in fear; not a single hand trembled near a hilt.
Wang Tian adjusted the strap of his sword belt, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he kicked a fallen, claw-marked branch out of his way.
"So this is the infamous Demonic Beast Valley? Tch. I've seen scarier courtyards."
Shaurya didn't turn around, though his eyebrow arched slightly.
"We've barely crossed the perimeter. The lesser beasts know better than to throw themselves at a wall of bare intent. They smelled the aura coming off you boys and buried themselves in the dirt."
Xiao Rui locked his fingers behind his head, tilting his face up toward the shadowy sky as a massive silhouette glided overhead.
"To think I actually lost sleep over this place a year ago. What a waste of bad dreams."
"You were terrified because you were weak," Shaurya said, his tone light but matter-of-fact. "Fear is just the body reminding you of your limits. Move the limit, and the fear starves."
Lee Bie rolled his shoulders, the crack of his knuckles sounding like dry twigs snapping underfoot. A sharp, predatory grin split his face.
"Limits moved. If something jumps out, I'm breaking its legs first."
Shaurya caught the fire burning in their eyes with a quick side-eye. The raw, unfiltered pride radiating from them brought a genuine, radiant smile to his face. He turned back toward the dark heart of the valley, keeping his stride smooth and steady.
---
A quarter-mile south, beneath the jagged overhang of a moss-covered boulder, the air reeked of stale sweat and wet iron.
A dozen men lay collapsed in the dirt, their tunic sleeves frayed to threads, their faces smeared with dark soil and dried blood. Their eyes were bloodshot, staring blankly at the ground as they dragged heavy breaths into exhausted lungs.
Resting against the central stone was a tattered, crimson banner, its fabric stained black around the edges. Painted in jagged white strokes across the cloth was the mark of a broken peak: the emblem of the Iron Mountain Bandits.
Atop the boulder sat Jian Fan.
He looked more like a slab of carved granite than a man—his chest broad as a doorway, his arms thick with corded muscle. A thick, white scar ran diagonally across his left eye, bisecting his brow and cheek. Beside him, buried two inches deep into the solid rock, rested a massive, double-headed battle axe.
The sound of scrambling boots shattered the heavy quiet.
A man with spiky, sea-blue hair burst through the brambles, his chest heaving as he skidded to his knees before the boulder, spraying gravel across the dirt.
Jian Fan's one good eye cracked open.
"Speak, Meow Mao."
"Master Jian Fan!" Meow Mao panted, clutching his ribs as he pressed a hand to the earth. "A group… entering from the north passage. A big group. Heading straight down the gulley."
He wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve.
"They're loaded. You can smell the gold on them."
Jian Fan shifted, the leather of his shoulder guards creaking as he sat up straight.
"Give me details."
"Young. All of them," Meow Mao swallowed hard, his lungs still burning. "Must be disciples from some high-tier sect, but their robes aren't standard uniform. Silk weaves, golden embroidery, immaculate condition—not a smudge of trail dust on 'em. But two of them… two of them don't fit the picture."
"Strong?" Jian Fan asked, his hand drifting casually toward the haft of his axe.
"I couldn't gauge their cultivation," Meow Mao admitted, his brow furrowing as he recalled the sight. "It was their presence. The woman… I've never seen a noble lady look like that. Walked like she owned the sky, beautiful enough to make a saint throw away his vows. And the man leading them? He makes the golden boys in the Royal Capital look like pig farmers."
Jian Fan snorted, a dry, rumbling sound in his chest.
"Good looks don't stop a steel blade from splitting a collarbone. Flamboyant kids are the easiest to break."
Near the edge of the camp, a red-haired bandit leaning against a tree muttered under his breath,
"In the high sects... good looks usually mean they've had enough pills to cultivate without aging."
The silence that followed was suffocatingly heavy.
Jian Fan cleared his throat loudly, the sound echoing off the cliff faces.
"Ahem! Stop shaking in your boots! Good-looking or not, they're greenhorns walking into our backyard. We hit them hard, take the rings, take the gold, and strip the silk right off their backs. Drinks are on me tonight!"
The weary men sat up a little straighter. Greed flickered back into their dull eyes, ignited by the promise of easy prey and hard liquor.
"YEAH! WE RIP 'EM CLEAN!"
---
THUD.
A heavy leather boot slammed onto a mossy outcrop with unhurried grace. Shaurya pushed his black-tinted rimless glasses up the bridge of his nose, the polished lenses catching the faint ambient light of the forest. He casually flashed a white, gleaming smile into the dark woods.
A few yards ahead, a beast the size of a carriage—resembling a scaled, muscle-bound rabbit with jagged incisors—froze. Behind it, a dozen horned, orange-furred hounds whimpered in unison.
Shaurya hadn't even drawn a weapon, but the sheer weight of his passive aura washed over them like an invisible tide. The massive rabbit let out a high-pitched squeak, turned on its heel, and bolted into the underbrush, its pack scattering like leaves in a gale.
Lin Shu stepped up beside Shaurya, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the creatures vanish.
"We're practically at the inner ring. If the local wildlife is fleeing from a smile, where are the actual threats?"
"Haven't even warmed up my arms yet," Luo Chen added, tilting his head until his neck popped, letting out a long, disappointed yawn.
Shaurya tapped his chin, looking around at the quiet trees.
"It's a wide valley. Danger doesn't keep a schedule. It usually hits right when you—"
The earth bucked beneath their feet.
The ground split open thirty paces ahead with a sickening CRACK. Spewing geysers of black mud and scorching embers, an enormous beast burst from the soil.
The Poisonous Flame Centipede reared up forty feet into the air, its obsidian carapace glowing red from within, its massive, venom-dripping mandibles clicking together with the sound of snapping iron.
Shaurya blinked behind his dark glasses.
"...well, that was prompt."
Before the creature could even screech, two blurs of motion cut through the air.
Wang Tian and Luo Chen cleared their sheaths in a single, fluid motion.
The centipede coiled back and unleashed a torrent of roaring, purple-tinted flame downward.
"Crimson Barrier!"
Twin crimson sigils flared into existence in mid-air, interlocking to absorb the blast. The flames washed harmlessly over the glowing shield, splitting into twin streams of fire that scorched the surrounding trees.
Without breaking stride, the two disciples vaulted off the glowing barrier.
They crossed in mid-air—Wang Tian veering right, Luo Chen dropping low to the left. Their blades ignited with refined Qi.
With a single, perfectly synchronized X motion, their strikes cleaved through the armored plates of the monster's neck.
A sharp, wet tear rang out.
The centipede's screech cut off instantly.
Its massive body collapsed like a felled oak, crashing into the dirt and sending a massive cloud of dust rolling across the path.
Wang Tian landed softly on a rock, sheathing his sword with a sharp click, while Luo Chen casually wiped a speck of soot from his sleeve.
"Sharp line on the footwork, bro," Luo Chen said, offering a casual nod.
"You didn't trail your Qi this time either," Wang Tian replied with a rare, approving grin, bringing his fist up.
They bumped knuckles as the dust began to settle.
A few paces back, Muo Qian's cheeks flushed a bright pink as she clasped her hands together.
"Wang Tian... that form was ridiculously hot..."
Beside her, Su Quan was equally flushed, her eyes locked on the sword lingering in Luo Chen's hand.
"Luo Chen... that flick at the end was amazing..."
Shaurya turned to Lin Shu, puffing out his chest proudly.
"See? Exactly as I predicted!"
Lin Shu gave him a flat look, her shoulders slumping.
"You're just lucky it burst out the second you opened your mouth."
Shaurya cleared his throat defensively.
"Lucky? That was refined intuition! I am a tactical mastermind. My predictions are absolute."
Before she could roll her eyes again, the rustle of foliage exploded from all sides.
Dozens of rough-looking men poured from the thickets, weapons drawn, completely blocking the path ahead and behind. Steel glinted in the dim light as the perimeter closed in tightly.
The disciples stopped.
Xiao Rui looked around at the sudden encirclement, then turned his head slowly toward Shaurya.
"...Master. Your predictions really are... unnaturally accurate."
Lin Shu rubbed her temples, letting out a long, long sigh.
"Can't you ever predict a pile of gold or a nice tea house?"
Shaurya stood frozen for a second.
He subtly tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, muttering under his breath,
Wait, am I cursed? Did I speak that into existence? No... no, I'm just brilliant.
He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest again.
"Hahaha! See? Pure genius!"
The surrounding bandits chuckled, a rough, grating sound.
Meow Mao stepped out from the front rank, twirling a dagger between his fingers with a dark smirk.
"Drop your weapons and hand over your spatial rings, kids. Do it now, and we might let you walk out of here on your own two feet."
The disciples exchanged glances.
The tension in the air instantly evaporated, replaced by utter, unadulterated confusion.
Then, the heavy rustle of branches announced a larger presence.
The bandits parted, bowing slightly as Jian Fan stepped into the clearing, the massive double-headed axe resting effortlessly over one boulder-like shoulder.
Jian Fan's scar twitched as his single eye swept over the group, finally settling on Shaurya's black sunglasses and unbothered posture. He pointed the dark steel tip of his axe directly at Shaurya's chest.
"You look like the one calling the shots here," Jian Fan growled, his voice like grinding stones. "Hand over everything you've got. Rings, robes, gold. Don't make me paint these trees red."
A beat of silence hung in the air.
Then, Wang Tian snorted.
Within a second, the entire group of disciples broke into loud, echoing laughter.
Jian Fan's eye widened slightly.
The bandits looked around at each other, their smirks faltering into bewildered frowns.
Wang Tian stepped forward, resting his hand casually on his hilt.
"If you think you've got the strength to take it, come try."
Xiao Rui stepped up to his left, cracking his knuckles, while Lee Bie rolled his neck with a dark chuckle.
"Finally," Lee Bie grinned. "I was getting bored of punching bugs."
Jian Fan's expression darkened.
He lowered his axe, the heavy iron head thudding into the dirt.
"I try not to slaughter children... but you're begging for it."
Luo Chen tilted his head, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
"Oh? As if a washed-up hill-runner like you could kill us."
The air between the two groups tightened like a drawn bowstring, intent clashing in an invisible, suffocating static.
In the middle of the standoff, Shaurya's eyes drifted past Jian Fan, landing on the ragged, red banner tied to a nearby bandit's waist. The crude mark of the broken peak caught the light.
Iron Mountain Bandits.
Shaurya's smile faded slightly. His eyes widened just a fraction behind his dark lenses.
He raised his right hand, palm open.
"Stand down," Shaurya said.
His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the rising Qi like a warm blade through butter.
The disciples paused mid-step, looking back at him in genuine surprise.
Shaurya walked past his students, his boots making soft, deliberate thuds against the earth until he stood just ten paces from the hulking bandit leader.
He looked Jian Fan up and down, then raised his hand, pointing a single finger straight at the scarred man's nose.
"No need for bloodshed," Shaurya said, his tone entirely level, completely devoid of fear.
"I'm going to give you two options, Jian Fan."
The bandits tensed.
Jian Fan's thick eyebrows furrowed into a deep, furious V-shape.
"You know my name?"
Shaurya ignored the question, continuing smoothly:
"Option one: You try your luck, and I kill every single one of you right where you stand."
"Option two: You and your men pack up this sad little camp and join my sect."
Absolute, total silence descended upon the valley.
Jaws dropped.
Several bandits literally forgot to hold their breath.
Even Wang Tian and Lin Shu stared at their master's back, utterly speechless.
Suddenly, a glowing blue system window materialized right in front of Shaurya's face, pulsing with frantic, golden light:
[Host... so THIS was your grand scheme all along?!]
Shaurya tilted his head slightly, looked past the blue screen, stuck his tongue out playfully, and flashed a quick, hidden wink.
To be continued...