Hunted (Part 1)

LUO FAN

For a month, I traveled alone, constantly on the move, my steps hurried as though the marquis' men were breathing down my neck. I could not afford to rest for long. Exhaustion was a luxury I could not indulge.

Every city I passed, I skirted around, afraid that spies or informants might already be stationed there, waiting for a glimpse of me. By now, the marquis must have appealed to Emperor Gao, and I was certain the emperor had dispatched his own men to find me.

My body bore the marks of my hardship. Hunger gnawed at my insides, thirst parched my throat, and the sleepless nights left me dizzy and disoriented. Even worse, the turmoil within me never ceased as my unstable dark core fought against my weakening light core, filling me with relentless pain. Every day felt like a fight to stay alive.

When I finally caught sight of the gated wall separating the Eastern Empire of Silang from the Wun Empire, a mix of relief and trepidation washed over me. Crossing into the Wun Empire promised a measure of safety, at least for a time.

The field before the gate was still crowded with refugees, but the atmosphere had shifted from the despair I had seen months earlier. The overwhelming misery had eased. No longer did people lie in the dirt, consumed by grief and hopelessness. The crying children and mourning mothers were gone.

Near the gate, beneath the shade of a sprawling tree, I spotted a congee stand. Refugees stood in a neat, orderly line, holding out bowls as volunteers ladled steaming portions into them. Nearby, a makeshift hospital had been set up, where attendants moved among the sick, tending to them with quiet, practiced efficiency.

Whoever had taken charge here had a compassionate heart.

I felt a pang of relief at the sight. These people, at least, were not forgotten. I could not help but feel grateful, though I could not afford to linger and find out who was responsible for this improvement.

I adjusted my grip on my bamboo stick and prepared to approach the gate when I froze. My gaze locked on three men standing near the entrance, their dark robes bearing the insignia of the Nightfall Sect, a serpent coiled around a crescent moon.

The Nightfall Sect was the second largest dark-core sect on the continent, notorious for its strength and ruthlessness. Their leader, Liang Qingshan, was hailed as the fourth strongest cultivator in the entire continent. They served Emperor Gao as his official protectors, a role that once belonged to the Sacred Sphere Sect before they lost favor by chastising the emperor for his debauchery.

The Nightfall Sect disciples exuded power. Their energy signatures rippled faintly in the air around them, enough to make even experienced cultivators think twice before approaching. I could not gauge their exact level, but I knew instinctively that I was no match for them in my current state, or in any state, for that matter.

I froze as I watched them scan the crowd, their eyes sharp and searching.

They're looking for me. They were expecting me.

I could feel it in my gut. Emperor Gao must have sent them, knowing I would attempt to flee into Wun Empire.

Swallowing my panic, I quickly stepped back into the crowd, keeping my head low and my movements inconspicuous. I blended into the stream of people, adjusting the hood of my cloak to shield my face further from view. The bamboo stick I carried felt heavier than ever in my grip.

I would have to find another way around. Direct confrontation with those disciples would mean certain death—or worse, capture and delivery back to the emperor.

"Priest Luo Fan," a sharp voice called from behind.

I froze. My heart sank as I recognized my name being uttered. Instinctively, I turned, only to realize the grave mistake I had made.

The man who had called out stiffened, his expression morphing from doubt to certainty the moment my reaction confirmed his suspicion.

"He's here!" he yelled, waving to his companions.

Immediately, I turned and bolted toward the dense woods nearby.

I couldn't afford to be captured. Not now, not ever.

My breath came in shallow gasps, my weakened body protesting with every step, but fear propelled me forward.

The sound of feet pounding behind me only grew louder. They were relentless. Trees blurred past me as I weaved through the foliage, hoping against hope to find a place to hide or a way to lose them. The forest seemed endless, its maze of towering trunks and twisting roots offering no clear escape.

Despite my efforts to push forward, my body began to fail me. My steps faltered, my legs grew heavier with every stride, and my lungs burned as though they might give out at any moment. In my current state, I knew I couldn't outrun them for much longer.

The sharp snap of a branch warned me of an approaching attacker. I turned just in time to see two of them lunging at me. They moved with precision, but their strikes lacked lethality.

Their intention was clear. They wanted me alive.

I deflected their strikes with my bamboo stick, their cautious restraint playing to my advantage. Drawing upon every scrap of energy left in me, I ducked, dodged, and struck back with ferocity, forcing them to retreat momentarily.

Seizing the opportunity, I broke into a sprint. My bamboo stick trembled in my grasp as I forced a faint trickle of energy into it. I knew I couldn't sustain this pace or keep fighting for much longer, but my body defied me, propelled by sheer determination. I had to believe there was still a way out.

The sound of their pursuit stayed relentless, each step hammering against my dwindling resolve. One of the men closed in rapidly, his spiritual pressure crashing over me like a suffocating wave. Realizing escape was impossible, I skidded to a halt and spun around to face him.

Gripping my bamboo stick tightly, I aimed it at him and unleashed a barrage of energy blasts. Golden streaks of light tore through the air, but he raised his hand, conjuring a shimmering spiritual shield. My attacks shattered harmlessly against it, leaving me gasping for air as my energy reserves drained dangerously low.

Desperation surged through me. I tightened my hold on the stick and swung it, prepared to make one last strike—a blow that might save my life or seal my fate.

Before I could follow through, a sudden gust of wind roared through the woods with startling force. The man stumbled, his shield flickering before dissipating as he was thrown heavily to the ground.

I froze, blinking in confusion.

Where had the wind come from?

My eyes darted around, scanning the forest for its source, but there was no one in sight.

Before I could make sense of it, two more pursuers crashed through the underbrush. Panic reignited, spurring me forward. Without hesitation, I turned and fled deeper into the woods. My breath came in ragged gasps, my legs screaming in protest as exhaustion blurred my vision and clawed at my will to keep going.

The sound of energy being gathered reached my ears—a sharp, crackling hum that sent chills down my spine. Realization struck too late. A concentrated blast hit me squarely in the back, searing pain ripping through my body like fire.

I collapsed onto the forest floor, gasping for air. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, my strength utterly drained. Yet, even as the agony threatened to consume me, I refused to give up.

Clawing at the dirt, I dragged myself forward, inch by inch, driven by sheer willpower.

I glanced up and saw the faint outline of a hole in the ground ahead. Using the last of my energy, I pushed myself toward it. The world spun around me as I tumbled down into the hole, hitting sharp rocks and rough dirt on the way down.

Pain exploded in my head as I struck something hard. The forest above faded into darkness. My bamboo stick, still clutched in my hand, pressed against my chest like a lifeline. As the void swallowed me, one last thought crossed my mind.

"Will I ever wake up again?"

*****