The air in Long Li's grove was thick with tension as Huan approached, each step feeling heavier than the last. Shadows danced beneath the trees, and the unease that had settled over the sect clung to him like a second skin, whispering of danger just out of sight.

As Huan pushed aside a low-hanging branch, he found Zhi Hao and Rong Ye already in the clearing. Their faces were pale, eyes darting between the trees as though expecting an attack at any moment. The oppressive presence that had gripped the sect still lingered, a silent weight pressing down on all of them.

Long Li stood at the center, his stance relaxed, with a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. He exuded confidence that seemed almost detached from the current situation as if he were merely a spectator in a game he had already won. His gaze fixed on Huan, and the smirk widened.

Huan clenched his fists, he had come here with a purpose, driven by the horrifying revelation about Mei's fate. But now, standing before Long Li, the reality of the situation began to erode his resolve.

"Master Long," Huan began, forcing his voice to remain steady, "I need to speak with you about—"

His words were cut short as a sudden gust of wind tore through the grove, carrying a surge of qi so potent it made the air shimmer. Huan's breath caught in his throat as a figure materialized at the edge of the clearing, seeming to step out of thin air.

The newcomer was tall and lean, dressed in robes of midnight blue that seemed to absorb the light around them. His face was ordinary, but his presence was anything but, radiating a power comparable to Long Li but with much more malice.

Long Li’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of irritation. "Who are you?" he demanded, stepping forward. "This is a sacred grove of the sect I founded. Leave now, and I might be generous enough to spare your life."

The stranger chuckled, the sound low and chilling, “Unfortunately, I'm here to settle a debt.”

Long Li's expression darkened, and his qi flared, making the air around him shimmer with power. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. I am Long Li, senior master of the Tianyun Sect, at the peak of the Nascent Soul realm!”

The man in blue tilted his head, his voice dripping with mockery. "Long Li, was it? Your reputation doesn't precede you. Perhaps you'd care to demonstrate."

Long Li's qi flared, the air around him shimmering with power, "You court death!"

Long Li released the qi, a concentrated force meant to obliterate the intruder where he stood. But just as the energy was about to connect, the stranger’s qi pulsed—no more than a flicker.

Long Li’s attack dissolved into nothingness, and a thin line of crimson appeared across his midsection. His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he looked down, watching as his robes parted to reveal a deep wound. "How…?" he gasped, the strength draining from his voice. "You…"

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Are far beyond me," the stranger finished, his tone cutting, "Did you really think your meager cultivation could stand against an Incarnation realm cultivator?"

Long Li crumpled to the ground, his life force slipping away with every heartbeat. His once-proud eyes now held only confusion and fear. He reached out, a trembling hand grasping at nothing as he tried to speak, but the words never came. In seconds, the light left his eyes, leaving his body an empty shell.

The grove fell silent, the tension snapping into an eerie stillness. Huan stood frozen, struggling to process what he had just witnessed. Long Li, the man he had feared, respected, and sought out, was gone—struck down in an instant by a power that was beyond anything he could comprehend.

A strangled cry broke the silence, and Huan turned to see Zhi Hao, his face pale with terror. Without a word, the senior disciple turned and fled, disappearing through a hidden exit at the back of the grove.

Rong Ye remained, her body tense, eyes fixed on the stranger. She shifted, placing herself between Huan and the man, ready to defend him despite the years of distance between them.

The stranger took a step forward, his attention now fixed squarely on Rong Ye.

"Run, junior brother!" Rong Ye's voice cut through silence, her hands moving in a blur as she formed seals to strengthen her body.

But Huan couldn’t move. His legs were frozen, rooted to the ground by a terror so deep it left him paralyzed.

Rong Ye launched herself at the stranger, her movements fluid and elegant as she closed the distance between them.

The hooded figure sighed, almost regretfully. "How tiresome," he murmured.

Her attack met an invisible barrier. For a brief moment, she hung in the air, her face twisted with effort as she poured everything into breaking through. Then, she was hurled back, her body crashing into a tree with a sickening crunch and crumpling to the ground.

Rong Ye gasped, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to rise.

Huan took a stumbling step backward, then another, his mind screaming at him to run.

The stranger advanced on Huan, his movements languid and unhurried, “I suppose I should finish up quickly here.”

Before he could strike, a commotion at the back of the grove drew their attention. The hidden exit burst open, and a cultivator with the same midnight blue robe entered, dragging a limp body behind him. Huan’s breath hitched as he recognized Zhi Hao.

"Found this one trying to escape," the newcomer announced, tossing Zhi Hao's corpse aside like discarded trash, “Try not to lose anymore.”

The first cultivator approached Huan as he stumbled backward, "What a pain," he muttered.

"Wait," the second cultivator called out, "Is it really right to kill this one?”

The first cultivator paused, "Our orders were clear. Get rid of the young master’s enemies."

"True," the second agreed, "but wouldn’t it be more of an insult to consider this trash an enemy of the young master? Did you not feel it?"

A tense silence fell over the grove as the two cultivators debated Huan's fate. Huan hardly dared to breathe.

Finally, the first cultivator spoke, "You may have a point.”

Without another word, the two cultivators turned and left the grove, leaving Huan alone amidst the carnage. The silence that followed was oppressive, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and Huan’s ragged breathing. The usual sounds of life in the sect—the chirping of spiritual birds, the distant clash of sparring swords—were absent, leaving the world eerily still.

For a long moment, Huan remained frozen in place.

Then, slowly, he moved toward Rong Ye’s crumpled form.

----------------------------------------

Huan stood at the base of the mountain, the road stretched out before him. He wore a fresh set of light blue robes, matching the color of the river that ran right next to the sect. On his back was a bow and a backpack full of alchemical supplies. On his waist was a sheathed blade, a straight double-edged jian.

And so, Huan Ko took his true first steps into the world.