The Blackwind Valley lived up to its name.
The wind screamed through narrow canyons as if ancient ghosts still wandered, howling at the living. The road narrowed to jagged cliffs on both sides, forcing the small team to move single file as the morning mist clung low around their feet.
Fang Xi walked in silence, as always two steps behind the point lead.
His eyes scanned every rock, every distant shadow. The Echo Mark on his wrist remained dormant, but his instincts whispered constantly.
This place reeked of danger.
Wei Lian walked quietly near him. Her sword fingers twitched slightly with each shift of the wind.
Jiang Ping, trying hard to stay calm, kept looking left and right, gripping the handle of his basic sword too tightly.
Lu Shuwei was tense, but his talismans were already prepared.
Lin Yao, the enforcer, remained at the rear. Silent. Watching Fang Xi as much as the cliffs.
The Warning Signs
As they crossed a narrow bend where the cliffs grew taller, Fang Xi slowed.
"Stop."
The others halted at once. He raised a hand and lowered his voice.
"Too quiet."
Even the wind had paused. The valley suddenly felt suffocating.
Fang Xi narrowed his senses.
Qi fluctuations.
Very faint.
Hidden formations.
Someone was waiting.
"They've prepared a pincer formation," Fang Xi whispered. "Multiple ambushers ahead and behind."
The Trap Springs
The words had barely left his lips when the rocks above exploded.
Dozens of figures in tattered grey robes leapt from the cliffs, their bodies covered in bone-plated armor, each wielding curved black blades.
Bandits? No. Too organized.
Cultivators.
Falling Rock defectors.
Lu Shuwei cursed under his breath. "Kill them fast before they signal for reinforcements!"
The first wave charged.
Fang Xi moved.
Fang Xi Unleashes
He activated the Resonant Perception from his Soul Echo.
Time slowed.
He saw the leader's hesitation half a breath before he moved.
The slight imbalance in the man's shoulder gave away his favored side.
Fang Xi twisted under the first blade strike, stepping into the attacker's guard, his dagger flashing into the soft gap under the bone armor.
One dead instantly.
A second attacker rushed in — this one faster, stronger.
Fang Xi didn't dodge.
Instead, he activated Whispering Grasp.
The nearest fragment of lingering soul energy from the ambush site, likely left behind by past battles, responded.
A faint Bone Shade materialized briefly — enough to stagger the attacker as Fang Xi's dagger pierced his throat.
The Group Holds
Wei Lian danced through the battlefield like a shadow, slicing tendons and throats with terrifying precision.
Lu Shuwei's talismans burst in layered waves of fire and wind.
Jiang Ping held back one attacker longer than he should have, narrowly avoiding death, but holding the line bravely.
Lin Yao remained cold and methodical, eliminating enemies with ruthless efficiency, but always glancing at Fang Xi as he fought.
The Hidden Hand
In the chaos, Fang Xi's perception caught something else.
Further up the cliff, hidden among the rocks, one observer wasn't moving.
A masked figure, covered entirely in grey silk, simply watching.
Not a bandit.
Not a simple rogue.
A scout.
Reporting to someone much higher.
Fang Xi allowed himself a faint smile even as blood sprayed across the ground.
Let them watch. Let them report.
The game is expanding exactly as it should.
The Ambush Fails
Within minutes, the ground was littered with corpses.
The remaining few tried to flee, but Wei Lian's blade was merciless.
The last attacker fell screaming into the rocks below.
Silence returned.
But it was not peace.
Lin Yao wiped his blade clean and finally spoke.
"This wasn't random."
"No," Fang Xi agreed softly. "The Falling Rock Sect wants to test how far Ironwood is willing to send its claws."
Lu Shuwei added grimly, "Or perhaps… someone outside both sects."
Fang Xi looked toward the distant mountains.
They weren't alone anymore.
And for the first time, true external players had entered the stage.