THE VALLEY’S BREATH
A cold wind howled through Shadow Valley, carrying the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves. The ground was uneven, roots twisting like veins beneath the soil. Thick fog covered everything, making even the closest trees look like ghostly figures in the distance.
The valley was alive, not just with beasts, but with a deep, unsettling energy. It felt like it was watching. Waiting.
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ZHAO FENG – FEAR AND REALIZATION
Zhao Feng’s breath came out in short bursts as he kept his sword raised. The Shadow Wraith circled him, its misty form shifting with the wind. Its eyes glowed like burning coals, drilling into him.
He was sweating. Not from exhaustion—but fear. Real fear.
The Wraith thrived on it.
"You're afraid. Good. That makes you weaker."
Zhao Feng gritted his teeth. No. I won’t lose to this.
He forced himself to breathe slower, steadying his heart. Fear wasn’t just an emotion; it was a weapon—one that could be turned against him or used to sharpen his focus.
"Your sword is useless," the Wraith whispered, its voice slithering through his mind.
Maybe. But his mind wasn’t.
Zhao Feng’s eyes darted around, searching for anything—anything—that could help.
Then he saw it.
A broken tree, its bark stripped away, revealing a smooth, pale surface beneath. It was Spiritbane Wood—a rare material that could disrupt spiritual beings like the Wraith.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward it.
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The Wraith lunged at him. Its misty claws stretched out—
But Zhao Feng dove forward, ripping a shard of wood from the tree’s trunk.
As the Wraith reached him, he spun around and stabbed the wood straight into its core.
SHRIEK!
The valley trembled as the creature let out an unnatural scream, its form twisting violently. Then, like smoke in the wind—it was gone.
Zhao Feng fell to his knees, breathing hard. His hands were shaking. His body was freezing. But he was alive.
He had won.
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LIU LING – THE HUNTER BECOMES THE HUNTED
Liu Ling crouched behind a fallen log, her fingers gripping a small dagger. Her mind was racing.
She had thought the Black Spider was the biggest threat here. She was wrong.
Something else was moving through the trees. Something bigger.
The sound of snapping branches and heavy breathing filled the air. Not a beast. A person.
Another disciple? No. The energy didn’t feel right.
She pressed her back against the log, slowing her breathing. If she moved now, she’d be seen. If she stayed, she’d be cornered.
A deep voice muttered from the darkness.
"Tsk… another weakling hiding? Come out."
Her heart pounded. She knew that voice.
Bai Ming.
A brutal Inner Sect disciple. Unlike most, he wasn’t here just to survive—he was here to eliminate competition.
She stayed silent. Bai Ming moved closer, his heavy boots crushing leaves beneath him.
Liu Ling had to think fast. She couldn’t outrun him. She couldn’t fight him head-on.
But she could outsmart him.
She reached into her pouch and pulled out a small vial—sleeping mist.
Carefully, she uncorked it and tipped it over the log. A thin, nearly invisible mist began to rise.
Bai Ming took another step—then stopped.
His breath hitched. His stance wavered. His grip on his blade loosened.
Then—he collapsed.
Liu Ling stood up, gripping her dagger. Bai Ming was not unconscious yet, but he was weak.
She had two choices.
1. Finish him. Remove the threat forever.
2. Leave him. But risk him coming after her later.
She swallowed hard.
The valley wasn’t just testing strength. It was testing decisions.
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THE VALLEY’S SECRETS
Far beyond the disciples, deep in the valley’s heart, the altar pulsed with energy. The runes that had been faint before were now glowing.
A voice echoed from the shadows.
"They are proving themselves... But will they be ready for what is coming?"
A figure in a dark robe watched from the cliffside. Their eyes gleamed with something beyond mere curiosity.
Shadow Valley was only the beginning.