Silent Endurance

Silent Endurance...

In the depths of Zhan Chen's eyes, a gleam shone brighter than a sword's edge. A chilling intent surged forth the instant he sensed the prying eyes upon him. It was as if a tempest of impending danger loomed, ready to be unleashed.

Little did he know, the rumor mills were already churning. Whispers about his merciless choice - trading a companion's life for the advancement of his ambitions - could spell his demise, especially with the Pill Emperor Palace harboring a thirst for his blood. So, there lay no alternative – the spy's life had to be forfeited.

"Quick, move!" Panic gripped Qin Wentian as he realized Zhan Chen's acute awareness of their presence. The extent of Zhan Chen's perceptiveness caught him off guard. Grasping Bailu Yi's hands, Qin Wentian retreated at breakneck speed, as if his life depended on it – which, in this moment, it surely did.

"Hey, why not hang around?" Zhan Chen's voice boomed, his murderous aura so thick that it could chill even the most resolute soul.

"Easy for him to say," Qin Wentian muttered under his breath, struggling to keep his pace as he employed the Garuda Movement Technique to its utmost, all while dragging Bailu Yi with him.

A single gesture from Zhan Chen summoned Astral Light, shaping it into an ancient sword. With a leap, he mounted the astral creation, transforming it into a sort of celestial skateboard fueled by his cultivation prowess. The result? An explosive chase that kicked up clouds of dirt and chaos in its wake, reducing the distance between Zhan Chen and his prey.

Yet, in the contest of speed, the odds were wildly stacked. Qin Wentian, though equipped with a divine movement technique, stood at the third level of Yuanfu cultivation. The same modest level applied to Bailu Yi. A far cry from the peak-level Yuanfu master, ranked an impressive eleventh on the Heavenly Fate Rankings, who pursued them.

Talk about a David-and-Goliath scenario.

Qin Wentian's expression darkened, his determination solidifying into resolve. The enormity of the gap between their strengths was undeniable. Uncovering Zhan Chen's clandestine secret, it seemed, triggered the lethal resolve to eliminate any potential witnesses.

"Bzzz!" Qin Wentian's gesture summoned the Yellow Springs Monument, which materialized upon a nearby mountain slope.

"Get on," he urged, motioning for Bailu Yi to join him. Stepping onto the monument, Qin Wentian's controlled footwork resonated with a thunderous cadence. Within moments, an intense crimson light radiated from the monument, accompanied by an oppressive force that emanated a sense of dread.

In a swift rush, Zhan Chen's arrival coincided with Qin Wentian teetering on the brink of a perilous trap. With an artful sweep of his hands, an intricate lattice of swords materialized, encircling him protectively.

"Time to say goodbye!" Zhan Chen spat out, and the sword screen he'd conjured transmuted into a cascade of shadowy blades, hurtling mercilessly toward Qin Wentian.

Such was their velocity that the air shredded with an ear-piercing screech. "Duck!" With a firm yank, Qin Wentian tugged Bailu Yi, and they tumbled down the mountain slope, narrowly escaping the lethal torrent.

Zhan Chen's lips curled into a frosty sneer as he drove his Astral sword forward, slicing through the defense with unwavering intent. The labyrinth of traps held no terror for him.

Qin Wentian's expression turned stormy. He refused to meet his end like this.

"Little Yi, Wentian!" A voice brimming with elation rang out, striking hope into Bailu Yi's ashen features. It was a voice she recognized all too well.

Just then, Qin Wentian noticed a figure hurtling towards them in a frenzy. None other than Bailu Jing himself.

A steely resolve ignited in Qin Wentian's eyes. He pressed a cut to his finger, imbuing the Yellow Springs Monument with his vital essence.

As Zhan Chen's palms cleaved downward, birthing a formidable sword mid-air, poised to obliterate Qin Wentian and Bailu Yi, a crimson spark ignited in Qin Wentian's gaze. He signaled for the Yellow Springs Monument to lunge forward, colliding with Zhan Chen's impending strike. The resultant impact sent shockwaves coursing through Zhan Chen, his own sword attack turning against him in a deafening clash.

"Astonishing!" The reverberations of the collision sent the monument careening back, slamming into Qin Wentian and Bailu Yi. They skidded across the earth, coughing up blood, victims of their own counterattack. Just then, Bailu Jing burst onto the scene.

"Halt!" Bailu Jing's bellow reverberated, his form transmuting into a blur. In an instant, a deadly technique descended from above, materializing as a golden filament aimed at Zhan Chen.

Undeterred, Zhan Chen flicked his fingers, transforming his monstrous sword intent into a torrent of ethereal fragments, poised to cleave apart the oncoming golden thread.

The golden thread defied Zhan Chen's every effort, its iridescent sheen continuing its inexorable descent, an embodiment of imminent rupture.

"Great Sun Nine Beheading Technique!" Zhan Chen's resolve hardened, unleashing sword Qi that surged and swelled with every passing heartbeat. His finger lanced forward, a devastating energy clashing against the golden thread, birthing a maelstrom of distortion in the surrounding space. And with this final cataclysmic effort, the thread snapped. A split-second respite was all Bailu Jing needed, now standing like a sentinel in front of Qin Wentian and Bailu Yi.

"Brother." Bailu Yi's voice was a tremor, met with Bailu Jing's solemn nod. A shroud of icy resolve enveloped him as he locked eyes with Zhan Chen.

"Ranked fifty-sixth on the Heavenly Fate Ranking, Bailu Jing. Your standing is bound to soar further when the Venerate Heavens Sect revises its rankings," Zhan Chen quipped, his gaze steady on Bailu Jing.

Yet, Bailu Jing's gaze brimmed with a smoldering intent. He recognized the true intent behind Zhan Chen's earlier assault – a direct strike on Qin Wentian and his sister, Bailu Yi.

An overwhelming aura surged forth as Bailu Jing unleashed his Astral Souls, three in total. One was a blazing deity, flames enveloping its form. Another took the shape of a fleeting wind, while the third emanated a dazzling gleam – the Seven Slaughter Astral Soul.

Their origin? The third, fourth, and fifth Heavenly Layers respectively.

Bailu Jing, typically a bastion of calm, now crackled with fiery wrath that seemed to touch the very skies.

"Brother Jing, there's been a misunderstanding." Qin Wentian's voice sliced through the tension, startling Bailu Jing. Qin Wentian pressed on, his words like a balm, "Zhan Chen, why chase us with such ferocity? Have we somehow offended you? I don't recall any prior interaction."

With Zhan Chen's eleventh place on the Heavenly Fate Ranking and prestigious ties to the Pill Emperor Hall, doubting his strength was folly. Though Bailu Jing exuded strength, confrontation didn't promise a favorable outcome.

Zhan Chen shifted his gaze to Qin Wentian, meeting unwavering eyes devoid of rancor. The depth of Qin Wentian's ruse struck him. By feigning misunderstanding, he signaled his intent to maintain silence regarding their recent ordeal. As for Zhan Chen's murderous assault, Qin Wentian seemed unfazed, an indifference that held an unspoken edge.

Did Qin Wentian genuinely let it slide? Or did he merely bide his time?

"Well, well, Zhan Chen, what a coincidence." A new group materialized on the scene, led by none other than Zhao Lie and the three siblings of the Li Clan. Misfortune appeared to be the common theme, forcing Old First into an unwelcome alliance with Zhao Lie, who in turn directed their course.

"The Divine Inscriptionist Grandmaster! Fantastic! With two Inscriptionists, we might just escape this cursed realm." Zhao Lie's eyes ignited with fervor as he glanced at Qin Wentian. He surmised that Zhan Chen had coerced Qin Wentian into guiding the way, while Bailu Jing resisted, sparking the altercation.

"Ah, quite the same sentiment. I'm curious, Grandmaster Qin, care to show us the way?" Zhan Chen's gaze bore into Qin Wentian, a sardonic grin creasing his features. The message was clear - the enmity kindled within Zhan Chen wasn't fated to fade today.

Yet, Qin Wentian knew the same truth applied to him. Survival permitted no clemency. A chance, he vowed, would see Zhan Chen's demise.

"Without a doubt." Qin Wentian grinned, his assent swift and unreserved.

"With our dear Qin leading, our expedition shall surely proceed far more smoothly," Old First chimed in, his hearty laughter dissolving prior tensions.

A shared understanding danced between Qin Wentian and Bailu Yi, both masterfully feigning ignorance. Resuming their journey, they prudently kept their distance from Zhan Chen. Unspoken assurance solidified the unbreakable pact between them, and Bailu Jing raised no questions, respecting their secrecy.

Time passed, bringing them back to the place where Zhan Chen and Qing Yue had exchanged words.

Then, in an instance, more figures materialized. This influx? Members of the Hua Clan.

"Are we all assembled?" A voice drifted from behind, heralding the arrival of Zhu Sha and two comrades from the Star-Seizing Manor.

Zhu Sha and Yang Fan leveled steely glares at Qin Wentian, grievances simmering. In their eyes, Qin Wentian bore responsibility for the loss of a dozen peak-level Yuanfu cultivators.

Yet, the landscape had changed. Realizing that injuring Qin Wentian was untenable – his strength pivotal to their escape – they masked their rancor.

"Grandmaster Qin, lead the way, please." Zhan Chen's invitation was a mere formality, a gesture that Qin Wentian scrutinized, his visage serene while harboring the gravity of their predicament.

"Indeed," he concurred, dipping into action with Divine Inscriptions etching from his fingers. As Bailu Jing and Bailu Yi hovered in the rear, Old First aligned beside Qin Wentian, joining forces to dismantle the formation.

Qin Wentian's rhythm was deliberate, almost languid, raising Old Li's suspicion. It was as though an ulterior motive underscored Qin Wentian's every motion.

In truth, Qin Wentian hunted an opening. Yet, he weighed the strength amassed against him – Zhan Chen, Yang Fan, Zhao Lie, Hua Feng – all Heavenly Fate Ranking elites. An all-encompassing ambush was a fantasy, but disrupting the formation was attainable. Focus narrowed, the lethal intent receded.

A heartbeat later, Qin Wentian picked up one interspatial ring while leaving another. Old First's trembling hand hesitated, then collected the discarded ring, pain masking his visage.

"Old Third." Old First clung to the ring, his gaze locked in place as Qin Wentian etched a single word: "Zhan."

"Zhan Chen." Recognition throbbed in Old First's heart, his eyes aflame with hate. Swiftly, he quelled the spark, feigning ignorance.

Qin Wentian shielded the word with his body, erasing it as he continued dismantling the formation. Progressing, they moved in sync with the silent convoy, the tranquil hues of pine and mountain gradually sweeping into view.

The exit beckoned, almost palpable.

"Divine Inscription energy tremors." Qin Wentian's focus shifted ahead. Though the scenery appeared within arm's reach, an insubstantial barrier crackled to life, a Divine Inscription-imbued bulwark obstructing their path.

A reflexive pause and closed eyes: Qin Wentian studied the nebulous rampart.

Just one step and freedom lay before him.