The Black Hollow Forest loomed before them, its ancient trees rising like silent sentinels against the dim sky. Twisted roots clawed at the earth, the undergrowth thick and unruly, obscuring all but the faintest traces of a path. A cold mist coiled around their ankles, rising in wisps from the damp, shadowed ground. Here, the air was heavy, thick with the scent of decay and the faint, metallic tang of blood.

Tao and Jian stood at the forest’s edge, where the safer, winding path diverged from the treacherous, direct route. The latter was a corridor of darkness, branches gnarled and clawing overhead, forming a skeletal archway that swallowed what little light remained. No birds sang, no insects chirped. Only the distant rustling of unseen things stirred within the oppressive stillness.

“No wonder they call it the Black hollow Forest.” Tao murmured.

Jian exhaled slowly, shifting his grip on his sword. "This is it. The last chance to reconsider."

Tao met his gaze. "We already agreed. No delays."

Jian held his stare a moment longer before nodding. "Then let’s move."

Together, they stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the dark forest.

The deeper they ventured, the more the forest pressed in around them. The trees stood too close, their bark slick with dampness, their twisted limbs reaching like skeletal fingers. Roots snaked across the uneven terrain, threatening to ensnare careless feet. The air held a damp chill, seeping into their bones. Every breath carried the taste of rot and old earth.

Tao moved with quiet precision; his senses sharpened. He walked slightly behind Jian, using the moments of stillness to refine his techniques in secret. A subtle pulse of Qi ran through his fingertips, sinking into the earth as he practiced the Fertile Spirit Nurturing Art. He could feel the latent life beneath the soil, the remnants of ancient vitality buried beneath the weight of centuries. If he focused, he could coax that energy forth, drawing it into something new.

He flexed his fingers, resisting the temptation to summon the vines outright. The Emerald Vine Puppet Arts would be too obvious, and Jian was already watchful. Instead, he rehearsed the movements in his mind, threading his Qi through the pathways of his meridians, preparing for the moment he would need them. If questioned, he could pass it off as an extension of his Nurturing Cycle Root Technique, a natural progression, nothing more. He had learned to disguise his power well.

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A voice curled through his thoughts, smooth as silk, edged with quiet laughter.

“What a cautious little cultivator you’ve become.”

Tao froze mid step. His pulse hammered against his ribs.

Shenli.

His fingers twitched, but outwardly, he forced himself to remain composed. Jian continued walking, unaware.

“Took you long enough to notice,” Shenli murmured, his voice an intimate whisper against Tao’s mind. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.”

Tao’s jaw tightened. His eyes flickered sideways, scanning the dim undergrowth, but the fox spirit was nowhere to be seen.

This was something new.

“How are you speaking to me?” Tao thought, keeping his expression unreadable.

Shenli chuckled, a low, velvety sound. “Did you think you left my influence behind so easily? Foolish. You are marked by the Lower Herb Garden now. It recognizes you, as do I.”

Tao resisted the urge to respond aloud. He had suspected the realm had left its imprint on him, but this confirmed it. Shenli could reach him even here.

“What do you want?” Tao asked silently.

Shenli sighed. “Must I want something? Perhaps I simply enjoy watching you skulk about, hiding your gifts like a rat.” A pause. “It’s almost sad, really. The realms techniques wasted on you.”

Tao ignored him. He kept moving, forcing himself to focus. But Shenli’s presence curled around his thoughts like smoke, always there, always watching.

Ahead of him, Jian glanced back. "You’re quiet."

"Thinking," Tao said simply.

Jian’s expression remained neutral, but his fingers tightened slightly on his sword’s hilt. "You’ve been… different. Since the cave."

Tao gave a half hearted shrug. "We both broke through. Of course I’m different."

Jian didn’t look convinced. He turned his gaze back to the path, but his shoulders remained tense. Tao could feel the distance growing between them, unspoken but heavy. Jian wanted to trust him. But doubt had already taken root.

Shenli purred in amusement. “He suspects you.”

Tao ignored him.

They pressed forward, navigating around twisted roots and fallen branches. The deeper they went, the heavier the silence became. It was the kind of silence that swallowed sound, that made even breathing feel like an intrusion. A silence that meant something else was listening.

A whisper of movement. A flicker of shadow just beyond the edges of vision.

Tao slowed his steps. Jian did the same, his sword sliding a fraction from its sheath.

Something was out there.

Jian spoke barely above a breath. "We’re not alone."

Shenli hummed in Tao’s mind. “Oh, now this is interesting.”

A shift in the underbrush. A rustle in the canopy above.

The forest exhaled.

And then, the shadows moved.