The wood beneath their feet groaned, the air around them crackling with energy. The sudden change of momentum nearly threw both of them overboard.

Tian Hao's heart lurched, his hands instinctively reaching out to steady himself. A rush of fear surged through him, his breath catching as he fought for balance. Lin Mei gritted her teeth, her eyes widening in the split second of chaos. "Stay focused," she told herself, pushing aside the panic that threatened to surface.

Explosions rocked the ship.

Shockwaves tore through the deck, shifting beneath their feet. The vibrations made it nearly impossible to keep balance. The pressure waves pounded against their ears, making Tian Hao's head ring and his lungs tighten with each impact.

The yells of surprised disciples echoed through the chaotic air, their voices mingling with the groaning wood and the harsh crackle of energy.

Tian Hao could feel each tremor in his bones. The sudden lurches of the ship twisted his stomach as he fought to steady himself on the swaying, unstable surface.

Lin Mei, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation with a practiced calmness that both impressed and reassured Tian Hao. Her reflexes were far sharper than his as she quickly identified the source of the attack.

“Rogue cultivators!” she shouted, her voice rising above the din. “They’re attacking from the rear!”

She pointed towards a group of figures approaching on mismatched, low-quality flying artifacts—a motley collection of battered swords, rickety platforms, and even a dented cauldron.

The attackers had their faces masked by scarves and hoods. Their armor was mismatched and worn, as if collected from the spoils of countless skirmishes. Their movements were a disorganized flurry of aggression.

They hurled elemental techniques and crude projectiles at the ship. Each attack struck the Lotus Wind’s protective barrier with resounding booms that echoed across the deck.

Tian Shou’s voice, amplified by a cultivation technique, cut through the chaos. “Defend the ship!” he commanded, his tone firm and unwavering.

The Skyward Lotus Sect disciples, their initial surprise giving way to disciplined action, sprang into formation, drawing their weapons and channeling their Qi. The once-peaceful deck of the Lotus Wind transformed into a chaotic battleground, the tranquil journey now a desperate struggle for survival.

Fatty Wu, his round face pale with terror, grabbed the nearest thing at hand — a wok — and used it as a makeshift shield, huddling behind a crate. "Why, oh why did I leave the kitchen today?" he thought, his mind racing. "Woks are for stir-frying, not shielding!" He muttered frantic prayers to the culinary gods for protection, imagining the heavenly kitchen where he'd rather be—safe and surrounded by spices. His earlier enthusiasm was now replaced by a desperate plea for survival, as he promised to make the best dumplings of his life if he got out of this alive.

Several rogue cultivators, propelled by bursts of Qi from their battered artifacts, approached close to the ship. With fierce determination, they leaped from their makeshift flying devices, landing heavily on the polished jade deck of the Lotus Wind. Their feet hit the ground with dull thuds, and they immediately lunged at the disciples, weapons raised, ready to engage in close-quarters combat.

The Skyward Lotus Sect disciples found themselves face-to-face with the rogues, the chaos of the skirmish intensifying quickly as blades clashed and shouts rang out.

Yu Xian and Wei Lo moved with the practiced ease of seasoned Core Disciples, engaging the attackers with a mix of grace and lethal efficiency.

Yu Xian, her expression impassive, wielded her sword with precision. Each movement was quick, enhanced by a burst of external Qi. She sliced through an incoming stream of fire. Her Qi flickered like a faint azure glow along the blade's edge. Her strikes were swift and deliberate, each one intended to conserve her strength.

One of the rogue cultivators hesitated, a momentary slack in his stance. Without a second thought, she lunged forward, her blade slicing through the air. The rogue cultivator barely managed to pull back, his wild counterattack missing her by a hair's breadth. Yu Xian twisting her body, narrowly avoided the strike.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She moved as a blur. Her body rotated smoothly, deflecting blows. Her sword carved arcs of light, leaving afterimages in the smoky air. Each step was part of a careful, flowing dance, the rhythm of battle keeping her focused.

Wei Lo, on the other hand, kept his stance low and centered. His palms glowed with a restrained golden energy. His strikes were short and focused. Bursts of golden Qi briefly erupted from his hands as he unleashed a barrage of palm strikes. His Qi application created a faint shimmering barrier that both protected and amplified his attacks.

As their movements disrupted the momentum of the rogue cultivators, each strike deflecting their crude attempts at breaching the spiritual barrier, each blow knocking another from their rickety contraptions to fall back towards the forest floor below as a collection of broken, bleeding husks.

Tian Hao and Lin Mei found themselves facing one of the rogue cultivators who’d managed to breach the ship’s defenses.

He wore mismatched leather armor, a dented helm that obscured most of his face, and wielded a crude, serrated sword. The blade was thick and stained with dried blood. His stance was less that of a trained cultivator and more the sloppy aggression of someone whose only power was derived from chaos and desperate ambition.

The rogue's eyes gleamed with a mix of desperation and bloodlust. He charged towards them, his movements clumsy but powerful. His strength was amplified by what must have been a high Body Cultivation stage, just enough to push his speed and strength beyond Tian Hao's ability to counter.

“Move!” Lin Mei shouted, shoving Tian Hao out of the way just as the rogue's serrated sword came crashing down.

The blow missed him by inches, the force of the attack splintering the deck where he had stood.

Lin Mei, her eyes narrowed with cold focus, spun on her heel, her glaive flashing through the air with a controlled ferocity. She felt her heart pounding, each beat echoing her resolve to protect Tian Hao. There was no room for hesitation, only action.

She moved like water, each swing of her glaive flowing into the next, a deadly dance that kept the rogue at bay. Her mind was sharp, every motion deliberate. "I can't afford a mistake," she thought, her determination hardening as the rogue's attacks grew more frantic.

Her strikes met the rogue's wild blows head-on, her weapon deflecting each swing with the heavy clang of metal against metal. The rogue's aggression was reckless, but she couldn't let it overwhelm her.

Lin Mei's feet shifted swiftly, her body weaving in and out, each movement a balance of offense and defense. She countered his aggression with precision, her breath steady, her focus absolute.

The rogue grunted, his attacks becoming more desperate as he tried to break through Lin Mei's guard, but her glaive spun with relentless force, each parry pushing him further off balance.

Lin Mei's eyes were fixed, her every move calculated, her breathing steady as she used her body weight to pivot and redirect the rogue’s attacks. She saw an opening—a brief moment where the rogue overextended, his blade swinging wide—and without hesitation, she called out.

“Now, Tian Hao!”

Tian Hao, though still shaken by the intensity of the fight, saw the opportunity. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with the rogue's side, the force of the blow enough to make the rogue stumble, his guard faltering. The rogue let out a grunt of pain, his stance breaking as he struggled to regain his balance.

Lin Mei didn’t waste a second. With a fierce yell, she twisted her glaive, the blade sweeping through the air in a brutal arc. She stepped forward, the glaive biting into the rogue’s neck with a sickening, wet crunch, the blade tearing through flesh, tendon, and bone.

Blood erupted in a crimson geyser, splattering her face and staining the polished deck. The rogue's eyes widened, a gurgle escaping his lips as the light drained from his gaze, his mouth hanging open in a final, silent scream.

Lin Mei twisted the glaive, the metal grinding as she severed the head almost completely, the rogue’s body convulsing as the blade cut through the spine, for a brief, awful moment before collapsing in a heap. She yanked her glaive free, the blade slick with gore, her expression as cold as the steel she wielded, her breaths coming in ragged bursts.

Tian Hao stood frozen for a moment, the brutality of the kill leaving him momentarily speechless. His gut twisted, fear and revulsion bubbling up inside him. He had seen death before, but this wasn't some low-tier spirit beast ambushing them for sustenance. The sheer ferocity of Lin Mei's strike shook him. Part of him admired her strength—her willingness to do whatever it took—but another part recoiled, uneasy with the harsh reality of their world.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady his thoughts. "Is this what it takes to survive?" he wondered, the question gnawing at the edges of his resolve. His gut twisted as he watched the rogue fall, horror and awe swirling within him.

Jiuwei, watching from her reclaimed perch near the shattered railing, let out a sigh as though this kind of petty squabble for territory was beneath her.

Her golden eyes narrowed with irritation as another stray technique—a rogue attempt at setting fire to the deck—almost singed a tuft of her fur. Her tail flicked agitatedly.

"Mortals and their ceaseless conflicts," she thought. "Always fighting over scraps, as if their lives were worth the trouble." It seemed as though the disruption of the battle itself were not enough to pull her into this fray. Neither Tian Hao's desperation nor Lin Mei’s strange, quick near-sacrifice for him were enough to disrupt the comfort of her roost.