Tao stumbled forward, his legs barely carrying him as the jagged underbrush clawed at his torn robes. Every breath burned in his chest, each step a fresh wave of agony. Jian was at his side, blood dripping from a gash across his forehead, his sword dangling loosely in his hand. They moved in silence, their focus solely on survival as the shadows of the forest pressed closer.

“Keep moving,” Jian muttered, his voice hoarse. His usually light hearted tone was replaced by grim determination.

Tao nodded weakly, his body screaming for rest. The forest seemed alive with malice, each rustling leaf and snapping twig sending a jolt of tension through their battered forms.

Ahead, a cluster of boulders loomed, half covered in creeping vines. Tao squinted, his vision swimming, and realized the rocks concealed the entrance to a small cave. He pointed, his voice barely above a whisper. “There.”

Jian followed his gaze, and together they staggered toward the shelter. The cave was shallow but dry, its walls damp with condensation. Tao collapsed against the rough stone, his head lolling back as he fought to steady his breathing. Jian leaned his sword against the wall and crouched at the entrance, scanning the area before dragging a few stones into place to partially block the opening.

“It’s not much,” Jian said, sinking to the ground beside Tao. “But it’ll have to do.”

Tao fumbled for the storage ring on his finger, his Qi sluggish as he retrieved the low grade healing pills they had taken from the Ironwood Tower Sect disciples. He handed one to Jian before swallowing his own, the bitter taste sharp against his dry throat. The pill’s effects were immediate, a faint warmth spreading through his meridians, dulling the worst of the pain.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet filled only by their laboured breathing. Tao closed his eyes, his body slipping into a meditative state as he guided the pill’s energy to his injuries. The Unyielding Mountain Spirit technique anchored him, its steady rhythm a lifeline amidst the chaos.

But the stillness brought no peace. Images from the illusion spun through Tao’s mind, his father’s proud smile, his mother’s quiet dismissal, his brother’s cutting words. The warmth of the past felt like a cruel joke now, the pain of neglect and resentment a wound that refused to heal.

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“You saw something, didn’t you?” Jian’s voice broke the silence, low and cautious.

Tao opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the cave’s shadowed ceiling. “The illusion... it showed me my family.” His voice was flat, devoid of the emotion roiling within. “Things I’ve tried to forget.”

Jian nodded slowly, his own expression darkening. “I saw something too.”

Tao turned to him, surprised. Jian rarely spoke of his past. But now, his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight, and his eyes were clouded with a distant pain.

“I was raised in the sect,” Jian began, his voice quieter than usual. “I don’t remember my parents. They say they died when I was an infant, caught in some conflict between rival merchants. The sect took me in, gave me a place to grow, to learn. But...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Tao waited, sensing the struggle in Jian’s words.

“In the illusion,” Jian continued, “I saw them. My parents. I don’t know if it was real or just something the spider pulled from my mind, but... it felt real.” His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. “They were alive, smiling, holding me like I mattered. Like I belonged somewhere.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant calls of unseen creatures.

“It’s cruel,” Jian said finally, his voice bitter. “To show you something you can never have. Something you didn’t even know you wanted.”

Tao didn’t reply immediately. His mind churned with his own memories, the illusion’s images cutting deeper than he cared to admit. “It’s not just cruel,” he said eventually. “It’s a reminder. Of what we’ve lost. Of what we’re still fighting for.”

Jian gave him a piercing look, “You always have a way of putting things in perspective.”

They lapsed into silence again, the weight of their shared pain settling between them like an unspoken bond.

As the healing pill’s energy worked through his body, Tao forced himself to sit up, wincing as his ribs protested. “We can’t stay here long,” he said, his voice firmer now. “We’re too exposed.”

Jian nodded, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword. “We’ll move at first light. But for now, we rest.”

Tao agreed, leaning back against the cave wall. Despite the ache in his body and the turmoil in his mind, a faint flicker of determination burned within him. The Wilds had tested them, but they were still alive. And as long as they drew breath, they would continue forward.

The forest outside whispered with unseen threats, but for now, the cave was their sanctuary. Tao closed his eyes, the faint hum of the Unyielding Mountain Spirit grounding him as he prepared for whatever lay ahead.