He Yu and Tan Xiaoling both released their presences as the overseer slammed into their midst. As his initial strike cracked the earth where they’d just stood, wind rushed out from them both.

A sandstorm carrying a thousand thousand gleaming razor shards whipped up around Tan Xiaoling. A summer’s gale surged out from He Yu, heavy with the promise of rain and crackling with the first fangs of heaven’s fury. The cloud of toxic miasma the overseer carried with him buckled under the pressure from two Fourth Realm presences, but held.

The overseer spun, his sickle flashing through the air. Some metal and poison-aspected technique gleamed along the edge of his blade. Shining and dripping. A cloud of toxins billowed out from the overseer as his qi surged, fueling his technique. Plants withered and died for dozens of yards around him. He Yu’s lungs burned.

He Yu called the Bracing Wind. It wasn’t enough to stop the overseer’s strike—his guandao did that. When the blade connected with the guandao’s metal shaft, a blast of wind accompanied the shock reverberating up He Yu’s arms. The wind carried the overseer’s poison with it. A cloud of rot rolled out from where they stood.

The overseer looked into He Yu’s eyes, and held his gaze. “Strong for a child and a dog of the sect. This will be a victory worthy of praise.”

There was something about the way his eyes gleamed, the notes of glee in his words that were unsettling. He Yu always thought cultivators of the higher realms were supposed to be in control of themselves. This one bordered on manic.

As the toxic cloud collapsed back in on them, a sharpness settled over the area. It was accompanied by a dry heat that beat down upon the land, cracking the earth as it parched the soil. Tan Xiaoling erupted from a cloud of razor sand and metal, her paired dao sabers flashing in the afternoon light.

Her advancement to Golden Core had brought tremendous benefit. Black flames licked at edge of her sabers. The sharpness of her killing intent combined with her potent qi, pressing down on the world like a blade. As she fell upon the overseer, He Yu saw her as a golden tiger—a powerful, predatory beast—descending upon its prey.

Spinning to meet the attack, the overseer caught her sabers on his sickle. To her credit, she very nearly broke his guard right there. He half stumbled under the crushing weight of Tan Xiaoling’s raw physical power. Her sandstorm surged out from her, more precise and controlled than it ever had been. It tore at what exposed skin it could find on her opponent. The wounds it opened healed quickly, but they seeped rotten, pustulant blood before they did.

The overseer giggled. He wrenched his sickle away, opening Tan Xiaoling for a strike. His first two fingers gathered poison qi, and he struck an acupressure point. She stumbled back with gritted teeth and her face twisted in pain. A black and purple mark, like a rapidly expanding bruise crept up her neck from beneath her gown. As it spread, the metal aspect of her presence became heavy and dark as it toxified.

He Yu wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Calling the Shearing Wind, he activated his newest technique—Heaven’s Descending Blade. It was the same technique that had taken Mo Zhiqiang’s arm. He’d been hesitant to use it in his duels, despite Zhang Lifen’s insistence he use his full strength. Now? He saw little reason to hold back.

A churning mass of wind wrapped around the guandao’s curved blade. Lightning crackled along its length. He Yu’s presence surged—the storm broke. Rain poured down in torrential sheets, wind whipping it to stinging cold. The black sky flashed brighter than day with each strike from heaven. Thunder pealed, the sound loud and forceful enough to shatter stone.

Heaven’s golden qi arced out from He Yu, like a hand extended in judgment. Blade and wind and lightning struck, biting into the overseer’s exposed back. Blood and pus erupted from the wound. The overseer howled, a mixture of rage and glee. It was an unnerving sound if He Yu had ever heard one.

The sickle flashed, and it was only through He Yu’s months of training against Zhang Lifen’s relentless assaults that he managed to defend. The Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment did its job. It showed him the shape of the attack, the arc it would trace through the empty air, slicing through wind and rain to open a wound in his neck, to infect him with the overseer’s toxic qi.

The Spring Rain Mirror expanded. Only the size of He Yu’s palm. Only capable of a nudge against an attack like this. But a nudge was all it needed. Another benefit of training against Zhang Lifen. She cultivated water and in the countless hours training against her, He Yu had come to understand that aspect well.

The Mirror deflected the attack, changing its course rather than stopping it. The technique blinked out, but the overseer was open. A blast of wind followed He Yu’s strike. The metal cap struck home, and the overseer’s ribs cracked beneath it. Heaven followed, crawling along the length of his weapon, and then out from where he’d made contact.

The overseer made a fist, and He Yu readied himself for a strike. It never came.

Great gouts of greenish black smoke billowed out from the overseer. It was accompanied by an intense wave of killing intent. He Yu didn’t need the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment to know what that technique would do to him if he stayed where he was. Pouring qi into the Sky Dragon’s Flight, he pulled himself into the air, away from the cloud of toxic fumes that rolled out from the overseer.

Tan Xiaoling fell back as well, having mostly recovered from the initial attack. The skin on her neck still looked badly bruised, though. She landed atop the hill where the overseer had first appeared and reached up with one hand. The black spear she’d used in the tournament formed above her—the Mark of the Dark Sun.

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A spear of black metal hung in the air. A corona of fire flickered around it. The sharp gleam of Tan Xiaoling’s killing intent shone on the point. She dropped her hand and sent death.

The overseer activated a movement technique. He Yu noted that the overseer had opted to dodge, rather than block, Tan Xiaoling’s technique. That was all the time he had to reflect.

The Mark of the Dark Sun crashed into the earth where the overseer had just stood. Metal and flame erupted from the impact, leaving a crater several dozen feet across. Flames licked the edge of the crater, and even now He Yu could still sense the last, fading vestige of killing intent Tan Xiaoling had imbued into the technique. He didn’t know if it would have been enough to finish the overseer off completely, but even with the full-stage advantage, the technique would have struck him a grievous blow.

“Such a gift heaven has given me!” the overseer shouted, his voice filled with a manic glee. “I will rip out your cores and turn your blood into elixirs. I will take your cultivation and add it to my own!” He launched himself into another whirlwind of spinning poison and metal.

With the reflexes of the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering, and the agility of the Sky Dragon’s Flight, He Yu darted around the overseer, striking with wind and heaven. Tan Xiaoling took a more direct approach, crashing into him with a furious assault from her paired dao. Her sandstorm churned around her, just as the winds cloaked He Yu.

The overseer met them blow-for-blow.

The fight dragged on. A poison cloud clung to the ground as it spread across the land, bringing with it a slow, creeping death. A tiger stalked an oasis, its movements hidden by the breath of the desert it lorded over. A storm broke and covered the sky, the wind and rain washing away the rot and decay below.

Three Golden Cores clashed. Their presences warring with each other as their techniques tore flesh. Wounds putrefied. Flesh was burned by dark flames and heaven’s touch alike. Wind and metal and rain clashed with billowing clouds of toxic smoke. The skies opened and lighting poured down from heaven. The desert drew life from all who dared set foot on the parched sands. Rot spread along the land.

The dozens of wounds He Yu took burned. Their edges turned black and necrotic—it took a tremendous amount of effort to cycle qi to halt the effects of the overseer’s poison. It also hurt worse than anything he’d ever experienced. When the overseer had managed to land his first strike, it had taken everything He Yu had not to drop his guandao and just scream.

Tan Xiaoling hadn’t fared much better in the exchange. Her more direct style meant that she’d taken far more wounds than he had. It was a testament to her resilience that she’d managed to keep fighting through it.

The overseer himself hadn’t come out unscathed, but by now it was clear that he’d maintained the upper hand. He was skilled. He Yu had to give him that. The overseer managed the two of them well after the first exchange, making sure to keep himself from getting flanked, and doing whatever he could to close off lines of attack.

It was a testament to He Yu and Tan Xiaoling both that they’d done as well as they had so far. Early Fourth Realm they both may be, they were also strong for their advancement. Between the two of them, they had managed to keep the overseer from pressing any momentary advantages he may have gained. Still, it was fairly clear that if this continued, he would wear them down.

“We need a plan,” He Yu said, chest heaving with the exertion of fighting for what must have been several hours at this point.

The surrounding land lay in ruin. The overseer’s hut was intact, most likely due to formations, but the rest of the area? The hill opposite the hut was all but gone. The gully they’d first clashed in was a blackened wasteland now. The overseer’s toxin had wilted all the hardy scrub, which had then quickly decayed. Tan Xiaoling’s flames and He Yu’s lightning had done the rest. What had once been boulders nearly the size of a full-grown person were now little more than rubble.

“Unless you happen to have some tricks I haven’t seen, I’m not sure what you expect,” Tan Xiaoling said. Her voice was tight and laced with pain. Her gown was torn in more than a dozen different places, and stained with blood—most of it hers.

He Yu wasn’t in much better shape. “None that you haven’t seen,” he said. “I’ll distract him for a moment. It’ll give you an opening to take some medicine. Then you can do the same for me—”

He cut himself off as the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment grabbed his attention. He looked to the cluster of huts by the mine’s entrance. Half hidden in the doorframe of one hut crouched an emaciated figure that was as much a corpse as a person. Malnourished, overworked, clearly exhausted and afraid—a mortal. Someone who had absolutely no business being anywhere near a battle between Fourth Realm cultivators. How he hadn’t collapsed under the sheer spiritual weight of three clashing presences was far beyond He Yu.

He Yu stopped himself from thinking about it. There wasn’t time. It could simple have been due to heaven’s good fortune that they lived for all it mattered. What he had to do now was clear. “There’s mortals by the mine.”

“Fools,” Tan Xiaoling said. “If they haven’t escaped yet, they aren’t our problem. We can’t afford to hold back against this foe.”

As she spoke there was something deeper to her words. He Yu remembered what she’d said to him before the tournament.

I do not hold back.

He Yu responded in kind. His words were his, but more than his alone—they came from somewhere deeper. Somewhere more profound. A truth that he could only partially lay claim to—at least for the time being. “They are our responsibility.” Responsibility. Not problem. “We’re immortals. We have a duty to those weaker than ourselves. Ask yourself, what if they were your people? The people of the Jade Kingdom?”

Tan Xiaoling’s eyes flashed. It was clear he’d struck a nerve, but she didn’t disagree. Instead, she said, “Follow your Way, I’ll follow mine.”

It was as good as he was going to get, and he took it. “Just don’t go out of your way to harm them.” She nodded her assent. He Yu’s meridians surged with heaven qi as he activated the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering. “Take your pill.”

He blasted toward the overseer. Tan Xiaoling’s presence surged behind him as the medicine did its work.

“You think a silly pill will help you?” the overseer asked. His sickle came up to meet He Yu’s guandao.

The Sky Dragon’s Flight took hold, and He Yu twisted to one side. He positioned himself between the overseer and the mine entrance. Heaven qi crawled along his body and his weapon. Wind churned and tugged at his robes. Behind the overseer, Tan Xiaoling moved like a stalking tiger, her paired dao limned in black fire.

He Yu had expected the overseer to maneuver as he usually did. Put his two opponents in front of him. Instead, he looked past He Yu. Looked to the mine entrance. To the huts. His eyes lit up.

“I see, I see,” he murmured. “Then I shall strike what you cannot defend. Suffer in your futile helplessness.”

The overseer vanished. He Yu spun. Flooding his meridians with qi, he put everything he had into the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering and the Sky Dragon’s Flight both. He shot forward, the Rushing Wind wrapping his extended blade.

Among the huts, the overseer had one of the mortals. A young man, about He Yu’s own age.

The overseer wrenched the mortal’s head back and opened his throat.