The moment the cabinet door sealed shut and they slipped into the hidden passage, the tightness in Timo Yang’s chest finally eased.

  From the voices outside, it had to be the Iron Law Enforcers—only they feared no one, not even the commander or deacons. Anyone who broke the code, no matter their rank, would be hauled before the tribunal for questioning.

  Timo followed Lulu, then stopped dead.

  I didn’t do anything wrong. Why am I running?

  “Could Wanwan have been a evil cultivator this whole time?” he muttered as he walked. “No way. Why didn’t I smell the death essence before? If I’d noticed sooner… Aunt Guo might still be alive.”

  Lost in self-blame, he looked up—and Lulu had vanished.

  “Lulu? Where’d you go?”

  His voice echoed off the curved stone walls. The tunnels branched in every direction.

  “So that’s how the Ground Forces always appear out of nowhere,” he whispered, tapping the knitted band around his forehead. The metal button gave a faint *clink*. He listened: only the low hum of turbines.

  “Over here, slowpoke—you can lose a living person?”

  Lulu’s voice came from behind. He turned and spotted the narrow stone steps he’d missed.

  They descended deeper. The passage widened, lights flickered on, and a vast underground chamber opened before them.

  It reminded him of the Black Forest ruins—same ancient scale—but where those halls were choked with roots punching through stone and tangled vines, this place was clean-cut. Sharp, precise edges gleamed under the lights, like perfectly carved building blocks stacked by a giant child.

  Eight arched doorways ringed the chamber, each leading to a different part of the Watch Legion camp. They slid open silently as someone approached.

  The thick stone housed an entire magitech system—no visible cables, just humming machinery.

  “This is the bunker training facility,” Lulu said. “My brothers and I grew up training down here.”

  She led him to a lab—square, matte black, pulsing with green light. The glow illuminated holographic human diagrams etched on the walls: meridians, essence flows, vital points.

  “No such thing as natural genius,” Lulu said flatly. “Since my grandfather’s generation, we’ve used elemental gene fusion.”

  Timo stared, lost. “Gene… fusion?”

  Lulu tapped a diagram. It split into five colored streams—earth, fire, water, metal, wood—then merged into a single human silhouette.

  “Implanting ancient bloodline genes so descendants are born with all five affinities.”

  Timo had never heard anything like it. He knew rumors about Elder Gan’s family, the Ground Forces heavy armor troops—all supposedly magitech-enhanced.

  “That sounds incredible,” he said. “You must be way stronger than the evil cultivators, right?”

  Lulu shook her head, a bitter edge to her sigh.

  “If it really worked, why would evil cultivators still steal spiritual roots? The Gan clan might be smarter than average, but five-element affinity? It’s a joke.”

  She stared at the lab walls, memories surfacing—brutal childhood drills, endless tests.

  Timo caught her reflection in the black metal. Last night, from a passage beneath the detention block, she had seen him seize control of Commander Fan Yi’s mind.

  She wasn’t sure if the evil cultivator’s illusion had caused it… or if Timo truly was the last heir of the Wind Taming Clan.

  “Lulu,” he said suddenly, “take me out of here. I need to search the ravine for Aunt Guo. The commander was controlled last night—he blasted her off the cliff. She’s too strong to die like that.”

  Lulu knew Timo. Once he decided something, he wouldn’t let go—stubborn, just like her father.

  That was why she had always kept an eye on him.

  “East arch leads straight to the infirmary,” she said. “Southeast to the outer detention block. Nothing happens in the Watch Legion that I don’t know about.”

  “So you knew the evil cultivator freed the rootless last night?”

  Lulu straightened, pride flashing across her face.

  “Of course. I couldn’t sleep—training lightning essence. I saw Wanwan sneaking around, getting the night guard drunk. I got suspicious. In my memory, Sister Wanwan never liked Zhao. She only had eyes for Feng Yi.”

  Timo’s jaw dropped. “Then why didn’t you call for help?”

  “I was suspicious, not certain. Stormy night—perfect for absorbing ambient lightning essence to break through faster. I thought she was just checking on the rootless. Didn’t seem urgent.”

  Timo sighed. He still couldn’t accept Aunt Guo was gone. The image replayed endlessly: blood on her lips, crashing through three walls.

  “But after training, I went back to the infirmary. Sister Yue said Wanwan seemed sick—hands ice-cold. I knew something was wrong, so I went to the detention block. Saw Wanwan facing off with Aunt Guo.”

  “Good thing you stayed hidden,” Timo said. “Aunt Guo said those rootless were all peak two-element. You’d have been in danger.”

  “She claimed she was the ice evil cultivator, right?”

  Timo nodded, recalling her words.

  “She said the Spirit Lord is immortal. That it brought her back. What if… like the old crone, it split off black energy and possessed Wanwan?”

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  “Black energy?” Lulu’s brow furrowed. “What black energy?”

  “In the Black Forest ruins—you didn’t see it? It was everywhere.”

  Lulu shook her head, studying him closely. Her father had mentioned fallen spirits—black energy forms that parasitized evil cultivators.

  “Damn—I almost forgot!” She slapped her forehead. “I promised Sister Yue I’d report back. She must be losing her mind.”

  “I’m coming with you!”

  “No way. The evil cultivators are targeting you. You’re safest here. These heavy armor guards are all full-earth masters. Rest.”

  With that, she vanished like a bolt of lightning.

  In the infirmary, the healers had finished breakfast and were filtering back to work.

  Yue Yang paced outside the dormitory, appetite gone.

  Her best friend Wanwan—missing. Aunt Guo and her brother—still not back. The camp had been chaotic since dawn. Something terrible had happened.

  “Sister Yue!”

  Lulu burst from the pharmacy.

  Yue Yang’s hands flew in frantic signs, then grabbed her notebook and scribbled: *Where’s Wanwan?*

  “Wanwan’s probably dead,” Lulu said grimly. “I saw her last night—she’d become a evil cultivator.”

  Yue Yang’s eyes widened in disbelief. She shook her head violently, ponytail whipping, even stirring a breeze.

  “No way! Last night… after she left the ward, she was like a different person. Her hands were freezing!”

  Realization hit. Without another word, Yue Yang bolted toward the infirmary.

  Lulu raced after her.

  Yue Yang slipped into the medical ward, her eyes sweeping across the thirty-two beds arranged in neat rows.

  The room was divided into eight smaller sections, each holding four beds. Given the gravity of the recent incident, eight dedicated physicians had been assigned to tend to the rescued children. Six sections were occupied; the other two stood empty, sheets crisp and untouched.

  “Yue Yang, what’s got you so flustered? That’s not like you at all.”

  The deputy deacon’s voice cut through her thoughts. Yue Yang’s hands flew into rapid sign language.

  “Something’s happened to Wan Lin. There’s an Evil Cultivator involved.”

  The deputy deacon’s expression hardened. He immediately sent out a ripple of water essence—a silent signal that summoned every physician in the ward. They gathered around him in seconds.

  “An Evil Cultivator,” he repeated grimly.

  At his warning, essence force flared to life around each of them, sharp and ready. Like hawks on the hunt, they spread out, scanning the room for anything—or anyone—suspicious.

  Seven physicians moved methodically between the beds, examining each sleeping child. They circled the wards three full times, watching for the slightest unnatural reaction among the twenty-odd kids. Nothing.

  Yue Yang drifted to the window that had been sealed shut the day before. From here she could see the detention block in the distance—Iron Law enforcers with shaved heads coming and going. Something big was happening over there.

  This was the exact spot where she’d last seen Wan Lin yesterday. The girl had gone alone to the detention block…and never returned.

  “Sister Yue Yang, anything unusual?”

  Lulu Gan’s quiet voice pulled her back. Yue Yang turned—and caught a swirl of dust rising from the corner of the room.

  The last sliver of sunlight vanished behind thick clouds. Fine rain began to fall outside, tracing irregular streaks down the windowpane.

  Yue Yang crouched by the wall, rubbing her fingers across the floor. She brought them to her nose and inhaled sharply, her face tightening in disbelief.

  Every child here wore standard patient gowns. The ward was kept meticulously clean and sterilized. So why was there a faint trace of Black Forest scent lingering in the air?

  She dropped lower, sniffing along the ground like a tracking hound. The weak trail led straight to section four.

  Four single beds came into view. Two boys, two girls. The ponytail girl she and Wan Lin had treated last night remained deep in coma. The other three were milder cases—stable, at least.

  Could the problem lie with one of these four?

  Yue Yang studied their sleeping faces. They looked peaceful, almost serene. Heaven only knew how long these children had been held captive. When they’d been rescued yesterday, most were severely malnourished; the ones imprisoned longest had skin as pale as ash.

  She couldn’t bring herself to wake them. And the scent trail… it faded completely here.

  Lulu Gan stayed close, afraid to miss a single clue.

  Just as she opened her mouth to ask, Yue Yang suddenly crouched again. She pulled out a strip of test paper and wiped it across a faint smudge on the floor.

  The moment the damp paper touched the stain, a small ring of blood-red spread outward.

  Yue Yang rushed the sample into the adjacent testing room. She fed it into the magitech spectrum analyzer. A moment later, the screen flashed a match: Wan Lin’s genetic profile.

  “Yue Yang, the Iron Law Division wants to see you.”

  A voice from the doorway. The lead physician of the first group stood there, flanked by two figures from Iron Law—both shaved bald, faces blank as stone.

  The man and woman wore the division’s new deep-blue high-collared robes instead of the traditional gray. Expressionless, humorless. To join Iron Law was to sever all personal ties and live only for the ancient code.

  “You can hear us, correct?” the woman asked stiffly.

  Yue Yang suppressed a shiver but nodded.

  “Damaged spirit root. Unable to speak.” The man’s gaze bored into her. “How did someone like you ever pass Iron Law screening?”

  Before she could respond, a familiar voice rang out behind the pair.

  “She passed because she’s Lingfeng Yang’s eldest daughter. Some privileges come with the name.”

  Ge Bai stepped into view, arms crossed. In her mind, Iron Law enforcers were little more than ascetic troublemakers who thrived on stirring up problems.

  “Deacon Ge,” the woman said coolly, “we’re simply following protocol. Earth Mother Rui Guo was killed by an Evil Cultivator last night. We must identify any traitors.”

  A strangled sound escaped Yue Yang’s throat. The words struck her like lightning. She stood frozen, mouth open, a hoarse rasp the only noise she could make.

  “You’re lying,” Fei snapped, striding into the ward. He’d woken early in his own medical pod, injuries fully healed, energy surging through restored meridians. He’d come looking for Yue Yang and Timo Yang to grab breakfast—only to overhear the chilling announcement.

  “Even an ordinary soldier’s death requires physician verification before any public notice,” Ge Bai cut in sharply. “Since when does Iron Law get to declare outcomes on its own?”

  The two enforcers exchanged a glance. The reactions around them confirmed no one in the medical division had known about Rui Guo’s death until now.

  “The case is under investigation,” the man said flatly. “Everyone is obligated to cooperate. We’ll be back.”

  With that, they turned and left without another word.

  “Elder Bai… is it true?” Yue Yang signed frantically the moment they were gone. Fei hurried to her side, both waiting for an answer.

  Elder Bai looked out at the gathered physicians crowding the doorway and hallway. She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head.

  “Old Li, Old Zhang—come with me. Yue Yang, you too.”

  She couldn’t accept the news either. Motioning to the two senior physicians, she led the way out of the medical ward and toward the increasingly noisy command center.

  Inside the fortress bunker, Timo Yang wandered the corridors until a burst of static caught his ear.

  He turned—and found himself facing a monitoring room. Dozens of holographic screens flickered, showing live feeds from both outer and inner camps.

  Outside the command center’s main gates, the Wilderness Regiment—Rui Guo’s own troops—had gathered in a growing crowd. They stood before the public notice board, jabbing fingers at the announcement, voices rising in outrage.

  The words were stark black letters, impossible to miss even from a distance:

  Earth Mother Rui Guo—Fallen in the Line of Duty.

  Deacon Gan spotted the swelling crowd and retreated hastily inside, ordering the massive iron gates sealed.

  The usually solemn streets filled rapidly. Warriors in every color of regiment armor converged, drawn by the commotion. No one wanted to believe what they were hearing.

  Four white-robed physicians moved through the light rain, people parting instinctively. No one ever blocked a physician’s path.

  Fei trailed close behind them. He caught a glimpse of Lulu Gan weaving through the crowd—she’d clearly followed from the ward. On any other day he’d have dragged her off for training. Today, he felt the same burning demand as every soldier shouting around him.

  “We refuse to accept this announcement! Captain Guo can’t be gone—we won’t believe it! Show us proof—living or dead!”

  The loudest voice belonged to the Wilderness Regiment’s second-in-command, Vice-Commander Gao. These were hardened fighters, tough as iron, yet every one of them spoke Rui Guo’s name with nothing but awe.

  In all the Watch Territory, no one could match Earth Mother’s power. No one on this land could have defeated her.

  And everyone knew the rule: a soldier’s death required confirmation from not one, but three separate physicians—all reaching the same conclusion—before it could ever be declared official.

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