Silas wiped the sweat from his face, his body drenched from the relentless heat of the cavern. Every step he took felt heavier, and his breathing grew labored. He regretted not bringing more water; his ring of holding was packed full of slain beasts, leaving little room for practical supplies.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. His thirst was becoming unbearable, forcing him to backtrack toward the surface in search of water. Frustration bubbled as he retraced his steps, his pace quick and purposeful.
As he moved, something caught his eye—a faint shimmer reflecting off the rocky walls. Silas slowed, narrowing his eyes to locate the source. Pushing forward, he found himself before a vast subterranean lake. Its surface was eerily still, mirroring the faint red glow of the cavern. Relief washed over him as he crouched by the water's edge, ready to quench his thirst.
Then he saw it. A strange light shimmered faintly at the bottom of the lake, shifting like an ethereal beacon. Silas leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell is that?" he muttered, curiosity flickering alongside his frustration.
Before he could reach for the water, the system chimed: "Host has found the entrance to a hidden realm."
Silas blinked, his hand freezing mid-motion. A hidden realm? So this was what Amelia had been searching for. He studied the shimmer, debating whether to investigate. Hunting hidden realms wasn't his priority; finding the herb for his breakthrough mattered far more.
As he weighed his options, voices echoed from deeper within the cavern, stopping him in his tracks. Silas froze, gripping his staff tightly as the voices grew louder.
"Who knew we'd get this lucky? Looks like the moles and mice wiped each other out," a young, smug female voice said, her words laced with amusement.
"How's that compass from the mini-pagoda holding up?" asked another voice, deep and gravelly, unmistakably male.
The third voice, older and female, snapped, "It's not a compass. It's a treasure finder, and it's working fine. Lucky for us, this is its last use."
Silas slipped into the shadows, crouching low behind a jagged outcrop of rocks. He peered through a narrow slit in his hiding spot, his gaze fixed on the approaching figures.
The first was a tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair and a freckled face. His green eyes glinted dangerously, and the saber strapped across his back gleamed in the dim light. He moved with a predator's confidence, his steps heavy and deliberate.
The second was a slender African American woman, her sharp eyes fixed on the treasure finder in her hands. She had an air of cold efficiency, her movements precise and controlled, as though she were ready to strike or flee at any moment.
The third figure was younger, closer to Silas's age. Her dark hair was tied back in a tight braid, her expression stoic and calculating. Though she carried no visible weapon, she radiated a quiet menace that put Silas on edge.
"All right, my queens," the red-haired man said, his tone light but laced with cruelty. "You know the rules. If we see someone else, kill them before they get a chance to surrender. And if it's a woman? Break her throat so she can't surrender. Then I'll have my fun, and we'll take their merits."
Silas deadpanned, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously? he thought, his irritation mixing with disgust. These people weren't just dangerous—they were scum. Predators who hunted other cultivators for sport and merit.
The trio stripped off their surplus military gear, stuffing it into their rings of holding before diving into the lake one by one. The red glow of the cavern walls danced across their forms as they disappeared beneath the surface.
Silas stayed crouched, watching the water ripple faintly in their wake. His grip tightened on his staff as his thoughts churned. He didn't need to follow them. He could walk away, let them deal with whatever awaited them in the hidden realm. After all, finding the herb for his breakthrough was still his priority.
But the image of their smug faces lingered, their cruel laughter echoing in his mind. And then there were the merits—the man alone must have a considerable stash, not to mention the two women.
A slow, sharp grin spread across Silas's face, his eyes narrowing. He felt it in his core—the thrill of the hunt.
He smiled like a tiger, his grip firm on the staff. "Prey to hunt down," he murmured, his voice low and steady.
Without hesitation, Silas stepped toward the lake. The shimmering light at the bottom grew brighter, casting faint reflections on the scars on his skin as he prepared to dive.
"Let's see what you're worth," he said, the grin never leaving his face as he put everything he had on into his ring of holding.