The Surface 1

Jianyu didn't hesitate.

He lunged forward, his scythe flashing. A clean, precise arc. The blade sliced through the vines in one smooth motion, severing them before they could drag Ren deeper.

Zhenfeng was already at his side, his sword a blur of silver as he cut through another cluster of tendrils. His movements were sharp, calculated, efficient—but Jianyu still caught the way his eyes flickered toward him for half a second.

Watching.

Checking.

Jianyu ignored it.

He knew what Zhenfeng was looking for. The same thing he had noticed back in the cavern.

Fear.

Jianyu wasn't showing it. Not on the surface. But Zhenfeng could always tell when something wasn't right.

And this—

This was wrong.

Jianyu tightened his grip on his scythe. "We handle this together," he said, voice even. "No one rushes in alone again."

Ren looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't.