Later That Year: Cliff Warden Trials, Part 2
Time Until First Rift Appears: 5 Years, 2 Months, 1 Day
Qi crystals were so rare they were said to be the very tears of heaven, their Qi so pure it condensed into a physical jewel. Not like Qi stones, which merely attuned to an elemental Qi over years. No, Qi crystals were pure, unfiltered Qi itself. Some masters and Sect Elders even used them directly for cultivation.
Rumors had it that the ascension of one of the newest Supremes, Yunxia Haifeng, the Supreme of Abyssal Tides and Sect Elder of the Tideborn Sect, was due to a high-quality Qi crystal found in the depths of the abyssal ocean. So, to discover that we had one for the Cliff Warden trials—a shock. But even more shocking? There were twenty-five of these precious items, all allocated for the Trials. Unthinkable.
I glanced at Linhua, who was staring, mouth agape, at Master Lu Ri's words. Murmurs around us swelled to a full chorus of disbelief. Cliff Wardens tried in vain to calm the crowd. Bloody hell. I can’t believe this; it's insane.
Another attempt from the Cliff Wardens to quiet the crowd failed, not that I could blame them. This was ridiculous.
"Where do you think they found so many? I never knew the sect was this rich," Goruo asked in his usual booming baritone, trying—and failing—to whisper.
"Beats me," Linhua replied, trying to act indifferent, though I could tell she was as curious as Goruo.
"Maybe they came from the vaults, you know, the ones rumored to be under the sect?"
Linhua chuckled. "Pfft. Come on, Rin, I thought you were too smart to fall for that gossip. Grandfather said those rumors have circulated for centuries, all because of a rival sect who used it as a pretext to wage war against us. They claimed our elders hoarded resources or something." She shrugged, rolling her eyes.
"So no, I don’t think they came out of the vaults. Probably a gift from the young master." Her tone softened at “young master,” and pink crept over her ears.
"Uh, yeah, maybe. Anyway, let’s not dwell on it—Master looks about ready to explode," I said quickly.
True to my words, Master Lu Ri bellowed, “Quiiieeettt!!” His tanned skin flushed redder, his irritation obvious. The conversations and murmurs quieted under his gaze as silence spread through the crowd.
Master Lu Ri’s eyes swept over us, and some flinched as he did. He continued, “Now, as I was saying, twenty-five crystals will be scattered on Frostfang Mountain.” He paused, and with no interruptions, he continued. “Your objective is to collect one of these crystals. Each team must possess a crystal by the end of the trial, which will last three days. If you don’t have one by then, your team fails.”
I squinted. What’s the old man planning? He said this trial would be harder—this doesn’t seem that difficult.
As if he’d heard me, Master Lu Ri continued.
“Now, some of you might think this is too easy.”
Did he just read my mind?
“Well, let me inform you, every beast on that mountain can sense Qi, and they’ll definitely sense the crystals we’ve placed. And these aren’t just any beasts; they rank around the sixth or seventh tier of the Body Tempering Stage. There have even been sightings of the Frostfang Wyrm—the only third-stage Qi Foundation beast known to roam these mountains.
My heart skipped a beat at that. If the difference between the strength of a base mortal and a body-tempering-stage cultivator was around tenfold, then someone in the third stage of body tempering would be roughly thirty times stronger than a mortal. Some are stronger, some are weaker, depending on the Qi they use to forge their bodies. But for a Qi Foundation-stage beast to be on this mountain—and at the third stage, no less… I shivered.
Linhua swallowed audibly beside him. “Did he just say Frostfang Wyrm?”
“I heard it too,” I murmured, feeling the weight of the revelation sink in.
“This is madness. What are they thinking, throwing us into the den of something that could tear us apart with a single swipe?”
Goruo grinned, clearly excited rather than afraid. “I’ve always wanted to see a Frostfang Wyrm up close. Imagine the glory if we took it down!”
“You’ve lost your mind,” Linhua retorted, her voice sharp with disbelief. “We’re barely scraping through the body-tempering stages, and some of us aren’t even quite there yet.” She sneaked a glance towards me. It stung, but she wasn’t wrong, so I just shrugged as she continued. “And you’re thinking about taking on a Qi Foundation beast?”
Goruo shrugged. “I didn’t say it was going to be easy. But I’ve never been one to shy away from a good fight.”
I didn’t have time to respond. Master Lu Ri wasn’t done yet.
“If that hasn’t made it clear how dangerous this trial will be, then let me remind you: only a handful of teams can claim victory. If you don’t secure a Qi crystal, you will fail. If you die, well…” He paused, letting the silence fill the space between us. “Let’s hope you’ve trained enough to survive long enough for my Cliff Wardens to save you in time.”
The grimness of his words settled over us like a heavy fog. There was no room for error here. Failure meant more than just embarrassment—it could mean death.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “As if the stakes weren’t high enough.”
Linhua turned toward me, her eyes wide. “Do you think we’ll actually survive this?”
I took a deep breath, glancing around at the others. Some looked scared, others determined. The pressure was building; tension thickened around us. Even though I didn’t say it, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Goruo, however, clapped me on the back with enough force to nearly knock me off balance. “Rin, you worry too much. We’ll survive. And who knows? We might even walk out of here with a Qi crystal.”
I smiled weakly. “Let’s focus on surviving first.”
Just as I thought Master Lu Ri was done with his speech, a hand went up in the crowd. Frowning, Master Lu Ri spoke. “I’m guessing you have a question, young…”
“It’s Kaidan,” an angelic voice answered, and immediately murmurs sprang up around me.
“Isn’t that the boy they say is the second coming of Young Master Ryuha?” someone asked.
“What’s he doing here?” another questioned, and I was intrigued myself.
“Ah yes, Kaidan. Your question?”
“Is it true that we will be rewarded by the sect if we bring back the Qi crystals on top of passing the trial?” Kaidan asked, and a pregnant silence settled over the crowd as Master Lu Ri squinted at the boy scornfully.
“Yes, that is true. I was hoping to leave it as a surprise for those who passed, but… now or later doesn’t make a difference. For each team that brings back a Qi crystal, there will be personalized resources given to suit your individual needs. One of the elders will assess you and provide a list that you can hand in at your own leisure.” Sweeping his gaze over the bright-eyed children, he sighed and looked back to Kaidan.
“Anything else, young Kaidan?” It sounded like a rhetorical question, but the boy didn’t seem to care.
“Just one. Is there a limit to the number of crystals one team can have? And is there a limit to the rewards given?” Kaidan asked.
Kaidan’s second question sent a chill through the crowd, and I felt an uneasy knot form in my stomach. He was clever, too clever. His innocent demeanor masked something more sinister—a calculated ambition. And now, every other team would be thinking about it.
Master Lu Ri paused, his smile widening as he gazed at Kaidan. “No,” he said slowly. “There is no limit to the number of Qi crystals a team can collect, nor is there a limit to the rewards. The more you bring back, the more you will be rewarded.”
Linhua audibly gasped beside me, and I could almost feel the tension rising even further, like a predator creeping into a herd of unsuspecting prey. Goruo, standing on my other side, let out a low whistle.
“This changes everything,” she muttered.
I nodded. The trial wasn’t just about survival or passing anymore. It was now a free-for-all, a ruthless competition against the beasts of Frostfang Mountain—and each other. Teams would be looking to steal crystals from others, and alliances that were once considered might now crumble.
Master Lu Ri gestured toward the towering mountain behind him, its jagged, snow-covered peaks ominous against the darkening sky. “You have three days to return with the crystals. Remember, the beasts will sense the Qi and hunt you. And you may encounter others with... less noble intentions. So be prepared for anything.”
He didn’t have to say it. We all knew exactly what that meant.
“Now,” he continued, “the Cliff Warden Trials begin!”
With the abrupt signal for the trials to begin, I could see people moving this way and that, picking out their teams and team members. It was no surprise that Kaidan had the most people vying to join his team. A large, yet gentle hand touched my shoulder, and I turned to see Goruo, a massive smile on his face.
"It goes without saying that we’re on the same team, right?" the massive boy said.
I couldn’t help but smile at Goruo’s eagerness, even though the gnawing tension in my gut hadn’t eased since Kaidan’s ridiculous question. His broad grin and confident demeanor were contagious, and despite everything, I felt a flicker of hope. At least I knew I could trust him.
“Of course,” I said, giving him a firm nod. “Linhua too, right?”
I glanced toward Linhua, who had been unusually quiet since the revelation. Her brows were furrowed in deep thought, her eyes distant as she stared at the towering mountain ahead. She hadn’t said much after hearing Kaidan’s question, but I could tell the gears in her mind were turning.
“Linhua?” I called, snapping her out of whatever calculations she was making. She blinked, then looked at me and Goruo, her expression still a bit distant.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Of course. We’re a team. Just… thinking.”
Goruo raised an eyebrow, stepping forward with an exaggeratedly dramatic frown. “Thinking about how many teams we’ll have to beat to grab one of those crystals? Or maybe you’re worried about Kaidan’s group swooping in to claim the whole mountain for themselves?”
Linhua scoffed, though her lips twitched upward. “As if I’m worried about Kaidan. He’s clever, sure, but clever people get too confident. They make mistakes.”
Goruo let out a hearty laugh. “That’s the spirit! We’ll show them all.” He pounded his chest for emphasis, causing a few nearby Cliff Wardens to glance our way.
I smiled despite the weight of the situation. Goruo’s optimism was infectious, even if it did border on recklessness at times. But I knew Linhua was right. Kaidan’s question had changed everything. Now every team, including ours, would be watching their backs for more than just beasts.
“Let’s get moving,” I said, trying to inject some urgency into our gathering. “We need to get a head start before the others start making moves. The longer we wait, the fewer options we’ll have.”
Linhua nodded, already turning her gaze back toward the mountain path ahead. “Agreed. We can’t afford to linger. The first to move will have the best chances of grabbing the crystals before things get ugly.”
Goruo clapped his hands together, his excitement practically vibrating off him. “About time!!”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Just remember, we’re not the only ones out here. Beasts, other teams—it’s going to be chaos. Keep your wits about you.”
Goruo grinned. “Wits are overrated. It’s all about muscle and instincts!”
Linhua rolled her eyes. “I’m sure that’ll work great when a Snow Yeti is breathing down your neck.”
"Which way do you think we should take?" Goruo asked, a contemplative look plastered on his face; it didn’t look right on him at all as we started to move through the pass to the base of the mountain.
“I was thinking of hanging back closer to the base of the mountain. I think there’s a forested area, a good place to scout before we decide which route to take. We can see where most of the other teams are going to go,” I answered. “It’s not like they’re going to stash the Qi crystals so close to the base of the mountain anyway, so we might as well use it to our advantage.”
“That might be true, but I don’t think it will be for the best,” Linhua said. “I think we need to head up as quickly as possible. You know the old northern passes,” she said, and my eyes grew wide. The northern passes were used as a pilgrimage route for sect disciples wishing to increase their comprehension of the abundant frost Qi that gave the Frost Fang Mountains its name. The passes usually led one to the peak, or close to it, where the Qi was purest. The only problem was—
“Weren’t those passes closed off because they were too dangerous?” Garou voiced what I was thinking.
“Ooh, big man scared?” Linhua jibed.
"No, but it's a valid question," the boy answered, and I had to agree—it was. He continued, "Didn't the sect close off that pass because it was unusable now, especially if you weren't, like, super high up in cultivation?"
"Yes, that is true, but it's also the best way to get a head start. If we stay at the base of the mountain, we have a higher chance of getting ambushed by larger groups who’ve formed some alliances, and we have no idea how busy or crowded the others are going to be," she answered.
"The northern passes are our best shot. What do you think, Rin?" In all fairness, it didn’t matter which way we went—everything is going to come with a risk. It's just up to us to choose which one has the best shot at survival while also passing this trial. I grinned at them.
"We’ll go with the northern passes. It's what we trained for. I don’t know about you guys, but training for the past six months just to do the easy thing doesn’t sit right with me," I answered, as hesitant smiles started to bloom on my companions’ faces.
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"Yeah, it would be the best way to stick it to the old man," Goruo beamed at me while subconsciously rubbing at his arms, and I had to grimace. Yeah, to say the last couple of months were hard was an understatement.
Stupid old man.
With our course decided, we started to move in earnest, passing half-formed teams as well as others already moving through the pass, not noticing the cold eyes watching our backs.
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Lu Ri Jr. didn’t fully grasp why his father had insisted on raising the difficulty of this year's trial. Yes, those from the sect had better access to cultivation resources than the mortals, but to use that as an excuse to heighten the challenge seemed excessive, even to him. Yet, as always, his father’s will prevailed. Lu Ri wasn’t privy to the details, but whatever deal his father had struck with the sect or the elders, it had left him just as stunned to see such a vast number of Qi crystals handed over by the young master.
Maybe, Lu Ri thought, this is an attempt to strengthen the Cliff Wardens. Though their order was respected by the cliff cities they protected, most cultivators in the sect gave them little thought. And they shouldn’t—if a true threat, like a beast horde or a rival sect, ever arose, the cultivators, not the Cliff Wardens, would be the ones defending the cities. To the gods above, he was relieved they were not responsible if such an event ever had to come to pass. But still... he couldn’t shake the thought that this might have something to do with the strange obelisk everyone had received the exact same message from the man in the blue window.
Lu Ri sighed, shifting his gaze to the trial participants below. His attention naturally fell on Rin's team. They’ve made their decision, he noted, observing how they angled themselves toward the northwestern pass, likely heading for higher ground. It was a sound strategy—to gain the vantage point early. Clever, Lu Ri thought, nodding slightly. Glory only comes to those willing to take risks. And Rin, it seemed, wasn’t going to make his role as observer easy.
Hidden in the brush, Lu Ri kept scanning the other groups. They were scattering in all directions, some scrambling in disorganized panic, while others moved with purpose. His eyes landed on the boy who intrigued him most—Kaidan. The kid was the most promising candidate of this year's lot, but Lu Ri still didn’t understand why his father had allowed him to participate. It’s not like Kaidan will join the Cliff Wardens, he thought grimly. And he will pass. Of that, I have no doubt.
Suddenly, as if sensing his thoughts, Kaidan’s gaze snapped directly toward where Lu Ri was hiding. The boy’s eyes narrowed before a knowing smile crept across his face. Kaidan then casually pointed at two excited young boys near him, who practically jumped in the air with joy at being chosen for his team.
Lu Ri remained still, his pulse stilling. Damn that kid. How did he see me?
With a quiet exhale and a small smile, I shook my head. Bloody geniuses. Lu Ri’s gaze shifted back to Rin’s group. Speaking of geniuses, his eyes landed on the short boy among them. Lu Ri had heard the tragic rumors about the boy’s fate—the poor kid had been dealt a cruel hand. It was still kept under wraps for now, but Lu Ri’s father had discovered the truth the same night he found Rin in the snow. Yet, for reasons beyond Lu Ri’s understanding, his father chose to keep the secret from the boy.
He can’t cultivate.
The words echoed in Lu Ri’s mind. As Rin’s trainer, it was impossible not to think about it. His father had told him that Rin’s inability to cultivate was a fact. And despite that, the old man was determined to push the boy toward becoming a Cliff Warden.
Why?
Lu Ri recalled the argument they'd had about it. His father had said something vague about duty—that it was somehow tied to repaying Rin’s father. But when Lu Ri had pressed him for more details, his father had only given a noncommittal grunt and changed the subject. Typical. In the end, Lu Ri was left with a single directive: train the boy.
And so he did.
Rin had been a fast learner—far faster than I’d expected, especially considering his limitations. But it wasn’t just Rin who had surprised me. After a few days, my father had dumped two more recruit hopefuls into my care, and they had been a different sort of challenge. They were cultivators, at least at the Body Refinement stage, and they picked up the basics quickly. But Rin… Rin absorbed everything I taught as though his life depended on it—and in many ways, it did.
The cliffs were unforgiving, indifferent to the struggles of man. They didn’t care if you were tired or injured, if you had strength or skill. If you made a mistake, the cliffs would swallow you whole, leaving you as nothing but a forgotten memory in the abyss below. To be a Cliff Warden, one had to be versatile, prepared for anything. The cliffs would test not only your body but your mind and spirit as well.
And that’s what I taught Rin. How to survive, how to read the land, how to listen to the wind and the stone. Despite his limitations, he didn’t disappoint. Neither did the other two, but I expected as much from cultivators. They had the advantage of qi on their side. Rin, however, had to rely solely on his wits, instincts, and sheer will.
But there was something more to Rin, something Lu Ri still couldn’t fully figure out. The town and sect had their gossip, of course. Whispers floated around that Rin was the son of the young master. Lu Ri didn’t buy it. People loved to talk, especially when it came to matters of lineage and power. And sure, Rin had somehow become friends with the young master, which only fueled the rumors, but Lu Ri never gave much weight to the speculation.
But why does my father care so much?
That was the real mystery. Lu Ri’s father was a man of few words, but every action he took was calculated. If he wanted Rin trained, even knowing the boy couldn’t cultivate, there had to be a reason. A deep one.
Shaking my head to rid it of the useless thoughts clouding it, I looked toward the group, seeing that Rin's group had gotten a good distance ahead. I decided to move from my hiding spot and follow them. I wasn’t supposed to interfere—just observe. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep a close eye. I checked my twin blades, ensuring they were securely fastened, before breaking into a swift pace.
Not that Rin or his team needed me… yet.
They were heading deeper into the northern passes, where the cliffs would become more treacherous. The trial was just beginning, and while the others might have qi to fall back on, Rin had nothing but what I had taught him.
Let’s see if that’s enough.
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Unaware of the person watching over them, we made our way toward the northern passes, our movements steady and deliberate.
The air was crisp and biting as we ascended the first stretch of the mountain, but that was nothing compared to the rising tension between the teams that sporadically ran past us, each with their own plan in mind. Groups began fanning out in different directions, some sprinting ahead as if their lives depended on it—maybe they did. Others hung back, eyeing their competitors warily, clearly suspicious of anyone who strayed too close.
It wasn’t long before we hit the first stretch of rough terrain.
The mountain paths were still out of sight, but the landscape had already begun to shift. The pleasant forested prairie we’d been traveling through was now giving way to rougher terrain. The soft grasses and scattered trees had thinned, replaced by jagged rocky outcrops and massive boulders that jutted out of the earth like ancient sentinels. The ground beneath our feet was harder, uneven, with loose stones scattered between the larger rocks, making each step more deliberate.
“You think we’ll be facing any of those beasts?” Surprisingly, it was Linhua who broke the silence that had formed after the initial decision to move toward the northern passes.
“Eh, so what if we do? We’ll just break their skulls in,” Goruo immediately answered. I eyed the massive boy, despite the size disparity, keeping up with me and Linhua.
“Overconfident much?” I scoffed.
“You call it overconfidence; I call it skill,” he answered, his voice laced with arrogance. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling.
"Sure, sure, keep thinking that," he scoffed. Then, more seriously, he added, "And to answer the question, I think we will. The old man didn’t choose this mountain for nothing, and those crystals they placed all over the mountain are going to be like beacons for all the qi-sensitive beasts in the area." He ticked off the reasons one by one. "And last time I checked, all the beasts in this area are qi-sensitive, so, yeah, we’re definitely going to be seeing and fighting a lot of them."
He glanced over at Goruo, who had a broad, goofy smile on his face, clearly excited for a fight, and a small part of him wished for that too.
Again, my hand rested on my stomach.
Seeing this, Linhua spoke. “Yeah, I guess so, but luckily we’re still far from that. I doubt anything will be dangerous this close to the base of the mountain; I mean, we’re basically still in the forest.” But as if to just prove her wrong, a booming, howl-like roar echoed across the mountain edges, reverberating in my chest. We all looked at each other.
“Or I could be completely wrong, and we could be fighting soon,” she said sheepishly.
I frowned. Isn't that too soon? I mean, the trial just started.
“I don’t know, but—” Goruo tried to speak but was cut off by another beast roar. Where the first one was guttural and deep, this one was a piercing, screeching-like roar. The sound made my ears ring.
“Guess this means things just got interesting,” Goruo rumbled, cracking his knuckles, the sound echoing like stones grinding against one another.
“Yeah, something like that. I think it’s time to see what we’re up against, don’t you?” Not waiting for confirmation, we pushed forward, our movements quick and cautious now, the path winding higher into the mountains. The cold bit into our skin, and soon the rocky terrain became dusted with snow—at first light, scattered patches, but as we ascended, the white blanket grew thicker, crunching beneath our boots with each step.
It didn’t take us long to arrive at the mouth of the northern pass. Dilapidated and overgrown, it was barely recognizable as a path—more like a jagged scar etched into the mountainside. If you didn’t know it was here, you’d mistake it for an impassable crag. The wind howled through the narrow gap, carrying with it the bitter chill of snow and ice.
I crouched down, brushing aside some loose debris, until I found what I was looking for—a faint glow of script embedded in the rocks with one character for north imprinted in the stone. “This is the place,” I muttered, standing up and gazing ahead.
The path itself was treacherous, barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through. One wrong step, and the sheer drop to the jagged rocks below would be the end of anyone. The sight made my stomach lurch.
Linhua, standing behind me, peered down the cliffside and grimaced. “Now I understand why they closed this pass off. That’s barely a few paces across.”
I nodded, my eyes shifting to Goruo. “Think you can fit?”
He scoffed, brushing past me and squeezing his massive frame into the narrow path. He moved with surprising grace for someone his size, though it was more of a controlled shimmy than an actual walk. “You guys coming, or are we sightseeing today?” he called back without turning around.
I smirked, turning to Linhua. “After you.”
She rolled her eyes but moved forward with the nimbleness of a cat. Her steps were careful and deliberate, each one slow as she hugged the rock wall.
I followed close behind, every step reminding me of the drop mere inches to my right. The biting wind that whistled through the pass didn’t help either, making it feel as though the mountain itself was pushing us toward the edge. The cold bit into my face and hands, and the snow beneath our feet crunched like shards of glass. Every now and then, I caught sight of the vast emptiness below us, and I had to remind myself to keep moving.
We continued like this for what felt like hours, though it was likely only minutes. The higher we climbed, the thinner the air became, each breath more laborious than the last. The snow thickened around us, clinging to our boots and weighing us down.
Eventually, they found an outcropping of rock that offered a bit of shelter from the wind. They huddled behind it, grateful for a moment’s rest. Rin rubbed his hands together, trying to get some warmth back into his fingers.
“You guys should cycle qi through your limbs; it’s freezing up here,” he said. Goruo and Linhua nodded, settling into lotus positions to draw qi from the air. “Just remember to cycle it. We can’t afford you two to be immobile for too long,” he reminded them, earning a pair of eye rolls.
“Yeah, yeah. What are you going to do?” Goruo asked.
Rin simply flashed him a smile. “I don’t have to. I’m just tougher than you.” Even with all the training Lu Ri put us through, six months wasn’t enough to acclimate to every extreme up here. His robes helped immensely, though, keeping the worst of the cold at bay. But before he could gloat further, Linhua spoke up.
“Don’t worry about him. Those robes are specifically made to keep the wardens warm, so just close your big eyes and cycle,” she said without opening her own.
Goruo eyed Rin’s robes enviously, then let out a pout before closing his eyes, beginning his cycling. With his friends preoccupied, Rin took a moment to admire the scenery.
The view from the outcropping was nothing short of breathtaking. Standing there, he took in the vast, untamed wilderness that stretched before them. Snow-covered peaks glistened under the pale light of the overcast sky, their jagged edges piercing the clouds. Below, the dark forest they’d climbed through looked like an endless sea of pines, their tops barely visible through the swirling snow. In the distance, rivers of ice wound through valleys, frozen and shimmering like glass. The cold, thin air bit at his skin, but the sight was so awe-inspiring he forgot the bitter chill.
So there’s more to this mountain than cliffs and danger. Here and there, the mountain opened up, revealing broad plateaus and gentle inclines hidden by mist and snow. From up here, it felt alive, shifting beneath the weight of snow and ice. It wasn’t just treacherous cliffs and sheer drops—though that was certainly a large part of it.
He took a deep breath, letting the crisp mountain air fill his lungs. But then a sound cut through his reverie—a crunching of snow and the heavy thud of something moving. His instincts kicked in, and he crouched low. Glancing back, he saw Linhua and Goruo still deep in their qi cycling, completely unaware. He hesitated—should I bother them? Shaking his head, he decided against it.
Rather not.
Carefully, he moved toward the source of the sound, the path becoming more treacherous with each step. The way narrowed and widened unpredictably, forcing him to alternate between quick, light steps and cautious, steady movements. He kept one hand on the cliff face, fingers brushing the cold stone for balance. His breath came in shallow puffs, the thin air making it harder to keep his pace steady, but he pushed onward.
Finally reaching the top of the path, Rin crouched behind a boulder and peered out. His heart raced at the sight.
Two packs of snow yetis were locked in a brutal battle below on a wide plateau beyond the rise. The plateau itself lay undisturbed, save for the deep footprints and splatters of blood marking the ongoing fight. The smaller pack consisted of the usual yetis—hulking, white-furred creatures roaring and slamming into their opponents with raw power. But the other pack was different. These yetis were larger, their fur streaked with black, their eyes faintly glowing with something.
Enhanced somehow? The thought struck him as he looked closer.
And they were winning.
Every strike the enhanced yetis landed sent the regular ones reeling, their massive forms crashing into the snow with bone-shattering force. Blood spattered the ground, and the sickening crunch of bones breaking echoed with each hit. The smaller pack fought back, but it was clear they were outmatched. Each of the black-striped yetis moved with precision and purpose, their attacks calculated and deadly, while the normal yetis relied on brute force and desperation.
Rin turned away for a moment, feeling uneasy. Something about these enhanced yetis makes my skin crawl. They weren’t just strong—they were intelligent, methodical. This wasn’t a wild brawl; it was a massacre.
He knew he couldn’t stay alone. Scrambling back down the narrow path as quickly as he could without slipping on the ice, his heart pounded in his chest. By the time he reached Goruo and Linhua, he was out of breath.
“We’ve got a situation,” he said, leaning over to catch his breath.
Goruo opened one eye lazily, a smirk playing on his lips. “What, did you finally find something exciting?”
Linhua raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“There’s a fight going on above us,” Rin continued, straightening up. “Two packs of snow yetis, but one of them—one of them is different. Somehow enhanced, I think. They’re wiping out the other pack like it’s nothing.”
“Enhanced yetis?” Linhua asked, standing and brushing the snow from her robes. “That’s not normal.”
“No kidding,” Rin muttered. “They’re bigger, stronger, and I know this sounds insane, but it feels like they’re using qi—or something like it.”
“I don’t know how, but they’re using it,” he added quickly. Although Qi is prevalent in all things it was out of the ordinary for normal beasts to be using Qi other then to make themselves physically stronger only mythical beasts are able to use Qi like we do.
Linhua just scoffed. Yeah, a bit of a stretch. There are only three mythical beasts in the world, and none of them are yetis.
Goruo stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Finally, something interesting.”
“No,” Rin said quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’re not engaging. Not yet. Something about them feels… off. We don’t know enough, and I don’t like walking into fights blind.”
Goruo frowned, clearly disappointed, but Linhua nodded. “Rin’s right. We need to watch and learn. If these yetis have been enhanced with qi,” she hesitated, “or something, we need to understand how—and why.” They shared a glance and nodded.
They moved together, heading up the path Rin had just descended. When they reached the top, they crouched behind the boulder where Rin had first spotted the fight. Goruo’s eyes lit up as he watched the battle unfold, but even he stayed silent.
The normal yetis were barely holding on, their numbers rapidly dwindling as the enhanced pack continued their ruthless assault. The larger yetis moved like predators, their glowing eyes tracking every movement, every weakness. It wasn’t long before the last of the regular yetis was thrown to the ground, its chest caved in by a devastating blow.
Linhua let out a quiet gasp. “Look,” she whispered, pointing toward the cliffside.
Rin’s eyes followed her gesture. Half-buried in the rock face was a large qi crystal, pulsing with energy and casting a faint glow across the snowy battlefield. One of the enhanced yetis approached it, reaching out with a massive hand.
Rin tensed, watching as the yeti gripped the crystal and, with a single powerful pull, wrenched it from the cliff. The crystal flared with light as the yeti held it aloft, as if savoring the power it held.
“That’s one of the trial crystals,” he whispered.
“And now they have it,” Goruo grumbled.
“They won’t keep it for long,” Linhua said quietly. “If they’re using qi, they must be going somewhere to refine it. Maybe we can follow them.”
Rin nodded, his mind racing. “We don’t engage. Not yet. We follow them, see where they’re going. Maybe we’ll find out more about these enhanced yetis—and why they’re here.”
Goruo looked reluctant but agreed. They watched in silence as the enhanced yetis, now victorious and in possession of the crystal, began to move. The pack headed toward a narrow crevasse at the far end of the plateau, disappearing into the shadows of the mountain.
As soon as they were out of sight, the group stood and followed, moving quickly but cautiously, keeping their distance. The wind picked up, howling through the pass as they descended from the ridge and trailed behind the pack.
The path the yetis took led them deeper into the mountain, and they followed, the terrain growing more treacherous with each step. The snow thickened, and the wind howled, biting through their clothes.
After what felt like hours of trudging forward, they finally came to a stop.
In front of them loomed a massive cave entrance, its mouth yawning wide like a beast waiting to devour anything foolish enough to step inside. The enhanced yetis had already disappeared into the darkness, leaving them at the edge, staring into the abyss.
“We follow them inside,” Rin said, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Linhua nodded, her gaze steely with resolve, while Goruo cracked his neck, a grin spreading across his face.
“This,” he said, “is going to be fun.”