Wu Zheng and Qing Rui carefully made their way down the shattered remnants of the mountain, the crumbling path testing their balance with every step. Jagged rocks jutted out where sections of the mountain had collapsed, forcing them to tread cautiously. The scent of crushed stone filled the air, mixing with the faint, metallic tang of sweat. Each misstep sent a cascade of loose gravel tumbling into the abyss below.
It took them longer than they'd hoped to reach the base, but the destroyed landscape was unforgiving. Qing Rui exhaled heavily, brushing the dust from her clothes as she glanced up. Another mountain rose in the distance, its shadow swallowing the land beneath it, the summit lost in the dense clouds.
Wu Zheng, barely fazed by the long descent, glanced over at her and spoke, his voice calm but firm. "We'll scale this one next. Then we'll circle around the left side. It's safer that way."
Qing Rui nodded, her brow furrowed as she followed his gaze toward the towering peak. "Right. No sense taking unnecessary risks."
Without wasting more time, the two of them began the climb.
---
Nearly two hours passed before they reached the top. The cold wind bit at their faces, sharp and unforgiving, howling in their ears as they stood at the peak. The view stretched for miles, a seemingly endless sea of jagged mountains and winding rivers below. The bitter air tasted like ice, and their breath came out in thin, white clouds.
But there was no time to rest. Wu Zheng motioned for them to continue, and they began their descent, circling the mountain just as planned. The steep slope offered little respite, but they moved with steady determination.
As they neared the halfway point, Wu Zheng suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. Qing Rui, always alert, followed suit, her hand instinctively going to her sword hilt.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. Her heart rate quickened, a familiar sensation creeping over her.
Wu Zheng's gaze remained fixed ahead. "People," he said simply, his voice low.
Qing Rui resisted the urge to ask how he knew. Over the past few hours, he had proven his ability to sense things she couldn't. Beasts, hidden dangers—he'd spotted them before she even sensed a thing. She had long stopped doubting him, though it still unnerved her how he always seemed a step ahead.
"How many?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.
"Twenty-seven," he said after a brief pause, his brow furrowing as he focused. "Five Golden Core cultivators. The rest are Foundation Establishment."
Qing Rui blinked, her grip on her sword tightening. "Twenty-seven?" The disbelief in her voice slipped out louder than intended, and she winced, quickly lowering her voice. "Why so many?"
Wu Zheng exhaled, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "If you think I know, you've been giving me too much credit." His tone was dry, almost teasing, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning the horizon.
She shot him a sideways glance, half-annoyed, half-relieved at his calmness. "It's just… a lot. Even for here."
"Trust me, I noticed," Wu Zheng muttered, his expression growing serious again. "Whatever they're up to, it's not good. I'm going to take a closer look."
Qing Rui frowned, stepping forward. "You? Shouldn't I—"
Wu Zheng cut her off with a raised hand. "No. You've seen how I move. I'll blend in better. Plus, I've got the concealment techniques to back it up." His voice was firm, leaving little room for argument. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, though his eyes remained sharp and focused. "Just stay here. I'll be back soon."
She opened her mouth to protest again, but something in his tone made her stop. It wasn't arrogance, but a quiet confidence that was hard to argue with. She exhaled, a mixture of frustration and trust settling in her chest. "Fine. But be careful."
Wu Zheng nodded once, then turned and moved swiftly away, his footsteps silent against the rocky terrain. As soon as he was far enough, he activated his Qi Limit Technique, drawing his energy in and suppressing his cultivation level to near nothingness. From Qi Condensation, he reduced it further, until even a mortal might struggle to sense his presence.
The cold air seemed to thin as he approached the group, his mind focused on the task ahead. Twenty-seven cultivators, and five Golden Cores. Whatever they were planning, he needed to know—and quickly.