"Ugh, so this is where we're going," Ying Xia exclaimed, her face contorted in a mask of pure disgust.

  She prodded at the murky, brackish water with the tip of her dagger, a small ripple disturbing the slimy green algae that coated the surface.

  Every step Bi Kan took was met with a thick, squelching sound as his boots sank into the muddy creek bed, the faint stench of decay and stagnant water clinging to the humid air.

  "It's so slimy here in this damn creek…"

  Bi Kan, for his part, was unfazed. He simply waded forward, his steps steady and unhurried.

  It's not that bad, he thought, a faint, wry smile touching his lips.

  At least it isn't as dense and sticky as that liquid back in the cave. This is just mud.

  Ying Xia let out another groan of frustration.

  "Ugh, I'll just leap above the trees at this point!" With a burst of her natural, athletic grace, she sprang from the bank, her feet finding purchase on a low-hanging branch.

  She began to move, a whirlwind of pink pigtails and focused energy, her confidence on full display. The branches, however, were slick with moss and swayed precariously under her weight.

  "Tch, this could snap in any minute," she muttered, her pride warring with the undeniable instability of her chosen path.

  "Gladly, I'm light…" The branch heaved down with a groan as she gathered herself to leap to the next tree.

  "Be careful up there, Xia," Bi Kan called out, his voice a mixture of genuine concern and lighthearted amusement.

  "Pride won't keep your clothes dry if one of those branches snaps."

  Ying Xia’s eye twitched. She waved a dismissive hand at him without looking down.

  "Shut up, I won't fall!" she shot back, her voice ringing with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. "I'm as light as a feather! These branches can hold me up!"

  Face-planting his head against his palm, Bi Kan let out a long, weary sigh before continuing his trudge through the muck.

  Maybe I really should have convinced her to stay behind, he thought, shaking his head.

  But it's too late now. She's here.

  His voice rose again, carrying a more serious, cautionary tone. "It'll be a few days travel, Xia! Don't tire yourself out too early, or else we'll have to take unnecessary breaks!"

  His words proved prophetic.

  After two hours of leaping, climbing, and balancing, Ying Xia’s initial burst of energy had dwindled into a weary slog.

  Her leaps became less graceful, her landings heavier. Finally, with the sun still high in the sky, a full half-day of travel left, she dropped to the ground, her chest heaving.

  Bi Kan trudged up beside her, shaking his head. "Stubbornness burns a lot of energy, Xia," he said, the teasing note returning to his voice.

  She pouted, turning her head away as she collapsed onto a patch of soft grass, her pride thoroughly bruised.

  "Shut up…" she muttered.

  Hmph, just you wait, she fumed internally, a silent vow to herself.

  In a few weeks or so, once I really get the hang of this Qi stuff, my stamina will be much higher than this. But for now… my feet hurt.

  A shadow fell over her. Bi Kan stood there, holding out a carefully wrapped package. "Here," he said, his voice softening.

  "You can have some meat. The villagers packed so much for us."

  He had unwrapped one of the rice balls he’d personally prepared, the savory aroma of seasoned boar meat mingling with the fresh scent of the banana leaf.

  Her anger melted away, replaced by a wave of sheepish gratitude.

  "Oh… thanks, Bi Kan," she said, her voice small as she accepted the offering. She smiled, a genuine and weary expression, and took a large, satisfying bite.

  Scarcely an hour had passed since Bi Kan and Ying Xia had vanished into the woods.

  In the village, a fragile sense of normalcy was beginning to take root amidst the cleanup.

  That peace was shattered by a villager who came sprinting from the forest's edge, his pants still hastily buttoned, his face pale with panic.

  "C-Chief!" he gasped, stumbling into the square. "There are four of them! In the woods! I swear on my life!"

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The effect was instantaneous. The lethargy of hangovers and the weariness of labor evaporated in a flash of cold adrenaline.

  Men who had been groaning moments before were suddenly sober, their eyes sharp and clear.

  They moved as one, a grim and silent unit, snatching the bandits' daggers from the walls where they had been hung as trophies.

  This was a new village, one that had been forged in battle and was ready to bleed for its home again.

  At the entrance, the chief stood at the head of a small, determined army, his own dagger held steady.

  "Tch, to think that enemies would come so soon after the young hero has left," he growled, his voice a low rumble of defiance. He raised his blade, its edge catching the morning sun.

  "We'll fight to the death!"

  A chorus of guttural roars answered him. "YEAH!"

  Four figures emerged from the forest, their steps slow and measured as they came to a halt on the rocky ground just outside the village gate.

  They were battered, weary travelers, their robes torn and stained, their eyes holding the haunted exhaustion of a long and brutal journey.

  A villager, his knuckles white on the hilt of his own dagger, let out a sharp, indrawn breath. "H-Hey! They're wearing the same robes as our young hero! They must be fellow sect members!"

  A collective sigh of relief, audible and profound, washed over the tense crowd. The villagers lowered their blades, their wary expressions shifting to ones of stunned curiosity.

  The crest of the Jade Pathways Sect was unmistakable.

  A girl with a fiery glint in her eyes and a fresh, angry-looking bruise on her cheek stepped forward. "

  Heh, we're looking to rest here," Mi Shui said, her voice raspy but confident. "Mind if we stay for a bit? We won't be long, we just need a place to gather ourselves."

  Behind her, the extent of their ordeal was clear. Ming Mei, her own arm held stiffly at her side, was practically carrying the weight of both Ran Ji and a silver-haired youth, their bodies slumped against her in a state of near-collapse.

  "So?" Mi Shui pressed, "Are you going to let us in? We promise we won't cause any trouble."

  The chief’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing.

  Don't mention Bi Kan, he thought, his gaze sweeping over the exhausted disciples.

  They wear the same robes, but that guarantees nothing. Disciples have factions, enemies. We don't want our young hero being chased everywhere because of a loose word from us. We must be cautious.

  He looked back at them. They looked decent enough, but he would not reveal his village's most precious secret.

  "V-Very well," he finally said, his voice firm. "You can rest within our village. We recently caught…" He coughed, quickly correcting himself.

  "Ahem, we have caught plenty of boar, so we have a lot of meat in store. Come in."

  Mi Shui grinned, a flash of relief in her tired eyes. She helped Ming Mei guide their two injured comrades through the gate.

  Ming Mei smiled gratefully at the chief and the assembled villagers, making the younger men in the crowd blush and look away. "Thank you for letting us stay, Elder," she said, offering a polite bow.

  Mi Shui, however, simply shook her head. "Yeah, thanks a bunch, old man," she said, patting the chief heartily on the back as if they were old drinking buddies.

  A collective gasp went through the crowd. Is she for real? one of the men thought, his eyes wide.

  She's acting so casually around our chief… The chief’s eye began to twitch, a vein throbbing in his temple.

  He cleared his throat, a sound like grinding stone, looking as if he were about to explode.

  Before the situation could escalate, the silver-haired youth, Re Jui, managed to lift his head, his voice a weak but sincere rasp.

  "W-We thank you, everyone… We'll definitely… pay you back someday. I promise you this."

  The hut the chief provided was simple but clean, the air inside smelling of dried herbs and woodsmoke, a world away from the filth and despair of the bandit camp.

  Ming Mei moved with a gentle, practiced care, helping the two injured disciples onto the simple straw bedrolls laid out on the floor.

  Re Jui let out a low groan as his back met the mat, his face pale and slick with a cold sweat. Ran Ji was silent, his breathing shallow, his body a fragile vessel of pain.

  "You must rest, you two," Mei whispered, pulling a roughspun blanket over them. "You've received too much damage to your bodies."

  As she spoke, a sharp twinge shot up her own broken arm, a fierce reminder of the battle's cost.

  Though, my own pain is nothing compared to theirs,

  she thought, wincing as she cradled the bruised and swollen limb.

  "Mei."

  Mi Shui’s voice was a sharp, urgent hiss from the doorway. She gestured with her head, her eyes darting around the small hut before settling on Mei with a look of intense seriousness.

  "Come here."

  "What is it this time?" Mei sighed, taking one last look at her resting comrades before rising and following Mi Shui outside, into a secluded corner where the long shadows of the afternoon offered a semblance of privacy.

  "Did you notice it?" Shui asked, her voice low and tense.

  Mei tilted her head, her expression one of weary confusion. "Notice… what, exactly?"

  Shui let out an exasperated breath, shaking her head as if disappointed by Mei’s lack of paranoia.

  "The daggers," she said, her gaze sharp and piercing. "The ones the villagers were holding when we arrived. They weren't woodcutting knives or hunting tools. Those were bandit blades. Crude iron, familiar design. Tell me you saw it too."

  A jolt of cold dread shot through Mei. Her eyes widened, the implications crashing down on her. If what Shui was saying were true, they may have just walked willingly into a trap.

  "Maybe that's why they were so worried when they saw us," she reasoned aloud, her own mind racing to connect the pieces.

  "They've probably taken note that there are disciples going around, killing the bandits, and they thought we were here for them."

  She bit her nail, her gaze turning cautious as she peered out at the villagers bustling in the square. "But they don't seem… that hostile. They're as cautious as we are."

  Shui nodded slowly, folding her arms as she leaned against the rough wood of the hut. "Maybe," she conceded, though her tone was laced with skepticism.

  "But a cornered animal can look cautious right before it lunges for your throat. We must be on guard, Mei."

  Mei nodded back, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. It wouldn't hurt to be on high alert. "Okay," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

  "Do we… eat the food they offered? What if they put something in it?" She began to nervously fumble with her hands, the thought of being poisoned after everything they had endured almost too much to bear.

  Just then, a villager approached, a wide, honest smile on his face as he carried a large wooden platter piled high with steaming, fragrant boar meat.

  "Our chief insisted you have the best cuts! For our heroes!" he boomed, setting the platter down on a small stool near their doorway.

  "Ah, smells so good, I can't resist!" He chuckled, plucking a small, crisp piece from the edge and popping it into his mouth.

  Mi Shui’s eyes narrowed, a flash of pure indignation on her face. That bastard! Eating our portion! But her anger was immediately followed by a realization.

  Wait… "It doesn't look like it," she muttered, watching the villager walk away, humming happily to himself.

  "But," she declared, her gaze settling on the tantalizing platter, her expression one of grim determination, "I'll take a bite first. Just to be sure."