The camp was no longer a place of uneasy survival; it had become a battleground of fear and distrust. The cold wasn't the only thing freezing the hearts of those huddled around the flickering fires—it was uncertainty. The beastmen, though distant for now, were always a looming threat, but the real danger had taken root within the camp itself.
Hui Jian stood on the outskirts, his eyes scanning the ragged group of survivors moving through the encampment. The wind howled through the gaps in the makeshift walls, and the weak firelight illuminated gaunt, pale faces. Whispers had begun to spread like poison, and with each passing day, he could feel the camp slipping further out of his control.
It started as small complaints. Discontent about the lack of food, the cold, the harsh conditions. But now, it had grown into something more dangerous—resentment.
Hui Jian had noticed the changes in Jian's demeanor in the past few days. Once a cooperative, if cautious, member of the council, Jian had become louder, bolder. He had begun speaking openly against Hui Jian's leadership, and it wasn't long before others started to echo his words. Hui Jian had long expected something like this, but the timing was worse than he had anticipated.
Jian had become a beacon of unrest.
Tonight, Hui Jian had no choice but to address it head-on.
The fire crackled softly as Hui Jian stood before the gathered survivors. The eyes of the camp were on him, some filled with fear, others with doubt, and a few with thinly veiled anger. Jian stood near the center, arms crossed, his gaze hard and challenging.
"Look around you," Hui Jian said, his voice low and steady. "We are still alive because we've fought for every breath, every scrap of food. There are dangers out there—beastmen, the wilderness, starvation. But right now, the greatest threat to this camp is fear."
Jian scoffed loudly, drawing attention. "Fear? No, the real threat is your leadership, Hui Jian. You've led us down a path of destruction. Tao Xun is missing because of you, and now you want us to keep following your reckless plan?"
The name hit the camp like a stone dropped in still water. Tao Xun—the name that had been whispered in corners, the name tied to the growing suspicion around Hui Jian. His sister had asked about him only days ago, but now the entire camp seemed to focus on that missing link.
Hui Jian's eyes flickered for a moment, but his voice remained cold. "Tao Xun knew the risks. We all do. This isn't a game where we get to avoid hard choices. Survival requires sacrifice."
"And what if the sacrifice is you, Hui Jian?" Jian shot back. "What if your cold, heartless decisions are leading us to our deaths? Maybe you're the one who needs to be sacrificed for the rest of us to survive."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some nodded in agreement, while others looked away, unwilling to meet Hui Jian's gaze. The crackling fire seemed louder than before, the tension thick enough to cut.
"I don't ask for loyalty out of kindness," Hui Jian said, his voice steady, but sharper now. "I ask for it because without order, we die. Without direction, we scatter and fall to the beastmen, to the wilderness. You all know this."
"Then why are people still going missing?" Jian pressed, stepping closer, his voice rising with every word. "Why did Tao Xun disappear? You were the last person to see him, weren't you?"
Hui Jian's jaw tightened. He had prepared himself for this, but it still struck a nerve. The guilt, buried deep, stirred within him, but he shoved it down. There was no room for guilt. Not now.
"Tao Xun is gone because he wasn't strong enough to survive out there," Hui Jian replied coldly. "The North Plains don't care about your feelings. If you're not willing to make hard decisions, you die."
"And who decides who lives or dies? You?" Jian sneered, looking around at the gathered survivors. "He thinks he's better than us, stronger than us. But all I see is a man willing to sacrifice anyone to save his own skin."
Hui Jian took a step forward, his gaze icy. "If you want to challenge me, Jian, do it openly. But don't pretend your cowardice is noble."
For a moment, the camp was still, the air thick with unspoken tension. Hui Jian could see it in their eyes—the flicker of doubt, the temptation to side with Jian. But they hesitated. Fear still held them in place.
Then, Jian made his move.
With a sharp gesture, Jian signaled to several others who had been lurking in the shadows. They stepped forward, emboldened by his words. It wasn't a large group, but it was enough. They moved toward the food supplies, their intentions clear.
"This ends tonight," Jian declared, his voice rising. "We take control, and we decide how to survive. Hui Jian has led us to ruin—now we lead ourselves!"
But Hui Jian was already moving.
His hand flicked out, a swift motion that sent one of his concealed daggers spinning through the air. It struck one of Jian's accomplices square in the shoulder, causing them to collapse with a scream. The camp erupted in chaos as Hui Jian stepped forward, his presence cold and commanding.
"Anyone who follows him dies," Hui Jian said, his voice cutting through the panic. "This is not a discussion. This is survival."
The others froze, caught between fear and indecision. Jian glared at him, rage in his eyes, but Hui Jian could see the flicker of doubt. This was the moment—the moment where everything hung in the balance.
"Do you really want to test me, Jian?" Hui Jian asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you think you're ready to lead? To make the hard choices that will keep these people alive?"
Jian's fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't move.
"That's what I thought," Hui Jian said coldly. "I'm in control. And if any of you want to challenge that, you'll meet the same fate."
Slowly, the camp began to settle. The conspirators who had moved toward the supplies hesitated, then backed away, their defiance withering under Hui Jian's gaze. The wounded man groaned in pain as the cold bit into his injury, and the others seemed unwilling to risk more violence.
Jian stepped back, his expression bitter, but he said nothing more. Hui Jian's display of force had worked—for now.
Later, as the camp quieted and the fires burned low, Hui Jian stood alone at the edge of the camp, his mind heavy. The confrontation had been inevitable, but it had cost him more than he was willing to admit. He had lost more of their trust tonight. Fear was a powerful tool, but it was also a fragile one.
His thoughts drifted to Tao Xun's sister, the way her eyes had searched his face when she asked about her brother. Hui Jian had steeled himself against the guilt before, but now it returned, gnawing at him in the dark.
He had chosen this path. He had chosen strength. And strength meant sacrifices.
But sacrifices always left scars.
Reaching into his pack, Hui Jian pulled out the Frozen Mind Gu. It flickered weakly, its energy nearly spent, but it was still useful. He closed his eyes, focusing on the cold clarity it provided, pushing away the emotions that threatened to surface.
The Mind Flower Gu was still far beyond his reach, but if he was going to survive, if he was going to lead, he needed to grow stronger. He needed to be smarter, colder. The world of Gu Masters was not a place for the weak.
The camp had nearly fractured tonight, but it held—for now.
And Hui Jian would ensure it continued to hold. No matter the cost.