Xiao Lei stood at the base of the mountain, its sheer face rising like a pillar against the heavens. The peak split the red-tinged sky, jagged and merciless, as though it pierced the fabric of dusk itself. Beside him, Zhen Du exhaled softly, the sound almost reverent.

  “Isn’t it beautiful,” he said, voice carrying both admiration and possession.

  Xiao Lei glanced at him, then gave a brief nod.

  Their march here had kept the shape of an alliance, but the surface told little of the truth. Faces tightened, eyes downcast, every step heavy with discontent. Resentment clung like dust to their robes. Only Zhen Du’s concession—easing his grip on spoils—kept the cracks from splitting wide. Yet even that felt like a thread stretched thin, ready to snap at the wrong pull.

  Xiao Lei’s own judgment of the man shifted constantly: righteous, arrogant, calculating. None of the words fit entirely. Zhen Du was a creature of excess, stubborn to the point of madness, yet capable of stepping back in ways that never looked like retreat. That was more dangerous than blunt force. A gift after hope was gone cut deeper than open generosity.

  “Don’t worry,” Zhen Du said suddenly, catching the flicker in Xiao Lei’s eyes. His smile was quick, sharp. “You’ll have enough essence qi to reach Earth-grade Foundation. I’ll see to it.”

  Xiao Lei inclined his head. Outwardly, acceptance; inwardly, calculation. Sixty-five drops rested with him, plus forty in his cracked flask. More was always better. The path ahead held no certainty, and none knew what it took to draw Sky-grade lightning. Zhen Du spoke only of place, of essence, of quality—and of storms that would not descend without such offerings.

  Since Xiao Lei revealed the crimson liquid yesterday, something had shifted. Zhen Du’s manner had softened into something almost companionable, his words warmer, his gestures less guarded. It was easy to imagine trust where none had stood before.

  But Xiao Lei did not forget himself. Treasure bent hearts, and the academy’s name was only part of what bound Zhen Du close. Beneath the sudden camaraderie lingered something harder to read. Admiration, perhaps. Or calculation.

  He kept his guard behind the steady rhythm of his breathing, gaze fixed on the mountain that stabbed the storm’s heart. Around them, the air thrummed with essence, the whisper of winds curling down from the heights. Every step forward promised both fortune and peril, and Xiao Lei knew he would need strength—and caution—before the mountain yielded its secrets.

  They had climbed no more than an hour when the air split with a thunderclap. From the treeline above, three blue-tinged lightning beasts lunged, arcs snapping across their hides, claws gouging bark and stone as they fell.

  The charge slammed into the column like a hammer blow. Each step seared the ground, stormlight bursting from their bones. Blades clashed, qi roared—light blinding, voices ragged, the air thick with ozone.

  One beast broke a path into the ranks, scattering disciples before Zhen Du’s strike cut it down in a blaze of crackling steel. The other two fought harder, arcs lashing like chains, snapping shields and flesh alike. A scream cracked the din, cut short by the reek of charred air.

  But numbers pressed in, surge upon surge. Fifty cultivators surrounded the beasts, each strike carving into hide, each shout forcing them back. At last, the predators faltered. One collapsed with a snarl that shook itself apart into shards of light, essence scattering like fractured stars. The rest followed—bodies unravelled, qi coalescing into hard crystals that clattered across the stone.

  The spoils were divided quickly, hands moved with practiced efficiency, no cheer in the taking. The mountain permitted no triumph—only survival.

  Xiao Lei drifted from the noise, settling beneath a leaning pine whose needles trembled with lingering charge. He closed his eyes, breath steady, qi flowing evenly through his channels. He had not exhausted himself; he never did. Restraint kept his strength sharp, always near its peak. Others sought release in the clash. He saved his edge for when it mattered.

  A presence stirred the air. He opened his eyes to find Shi Mai approaching, her steps measured, her composure curiously untouched by the storm. She eased down beside him, smile light against the red sky.

  Around them, glances flickered. Peng Ji’s gaze lingered, suspicion burning, before he looked away—mindful of Zhen Du’s strange camaraderie. As for Peng Yu, his shadow had yet to fall across their path in this valley. Whatever grudge he held, he kept buried.

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  For a while, silence pressed in, broken only by the storm’s faint hum. Then Shi Mai’s voice cut through, soft, almost playful, jarring against the valley’s harshness.

  “Missing your sister, Lian?”

  The words stilled him. Xiao Lei turned, expression calm, though unease flickered beneath. His voice, when it came, was quiet, detached.

  “How do you know about her? I don’t recall ever mentioning her to anyone in the academy.”

  Shi Mai’s lips curved. A giggle slipped, airy as if she’d uncovered a secret with no effort at all.

  “After you claimed first place in the test, people started digging. I did too.” Her eyes glimmered, amused. “They say you have a younger sister. And…”—she tilted her head—“that Princess Xinyue herself recommended you.”

  Xiao Lei studied her, gaze steady, silence drawn taut as a bowstring. At last, he exhaled, a faint smile ghosting his lips as his eyes lifted to the jagged line of the mountain cutting through the storm.

  “It seems you didn’t like it?” Shi Mai’s voice was light, yet her gaze lingered on Xiao Lei, probing.

  He did not meet her eyes. His attention stayed on the red-streaked sky, clouds shifting like wounded silk over the peaks. A faint smile touched his lips. “No. It was… unexpected.”

  The answer carried no edge, yet something unspoken hung between them. Shi Mai studied him for a heartbeat longer, then turned, scanning the restless alliance. Cultivators adjusted straps, gathered spoils—tension coiled around every movement. She rose with fluid grace, steps measured, each aligned with the stillness gripping the mountain path.

  “I’ve heard from my seniors,” she said suddenly, voice low enough for him alone, “that near the summit lies a hidden place. Beautiful, they say. From there, one can see the entire valley. Will you come?”

  Her tone balanced invitation and challenge, testing the bounds he might cross into her world.

  Xiao Lei inclined once. A nod—concise, deliberate.

  Shi Mai’s lips curved faintly, and she merged back into the group, weaving through shadows of robes and blades.

  Xiao Lei rose, brushing dust from his sleeves, and approached the Radiant Sword Sect survivors. They had kept to the edges of the alliance since fleeing the emperor lightning beast. Three remained now, their earlier pride worn down by the valley’s trials.

  At his approach, they straightened and bowed, deep and deliberate. The gesture carried weight—acknowledgment of his lure of Mu Pei’s trio, recognition of his Royal Academy status. For lesser sect cultivators, that alone demanded respect.

  Xiao Lei returned the bow with a calm smile, voice low as he exchanged a few words. No grand proclamations, no boasting. His demeanor was steady, disarming, as if blind to the gulf between them.

  When he moved on, the air behind him shifted. The trio straightened again, eyes darkening—reverence giving way to resentment, envy, perhaps hatred. Silent, unspoken, it burned beneath the surface, like embers hidden beneath ash.

  Xiao Lei did not look back. His steps remained measured, unhurried, toward the front lines where Zhen Du waited.

  The larger alliance stirred, forming back into motion under Zhen Du’s command. Boots struck stone. Weapons shifted across shoulders and backs. The group advanced upward, the crimson light deepening over the cliffs, the mountain path narrowing toward trials unseen.

  Time pressed on; each step felt heavier than the last. Lightning beasts surged again and again, and their numbers thinned—five more lost—but mood remained surprisingly buoyant. The beasts grew stronger, yet so did the yield of essence qi, shimmering like liquid fire in the flasks of those who remained. With fewer mouths to divide it, each cultivator now carried nearly enough to reach an Earth-grade foundation—a grim satisfaction, tempered by ozone and scorched stone.

  When the group paused, Xiao Lei fell in step with Shi Mai, tracing the winding paths she had mentioned. They crept along narrow ledges, tight corridors carved from ancient rock, the cliff walls pressing close, gusts cutting like fingers. Finally, they emerged onto a jutting precipice. Below, the valley stretched endlessly, tinged red by lingering light.

  Xiao Lei stepped closer to the edge, letting his gaze roam. “The view is really something, Sister Mai,” he murmured.

  The reply was not hers. A sharp, cold voice carried across the ledge.

  He turned. The mountain seemed to shiver with hidden presence. Figures emerged from jagged boulders and shadows, their numbers unknown but intent clear.

  “Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,” Bai Cheng said, stepping forward, his smile thin, predatory. Beside him, the Xun clan duo flanked Mu Pei. Shi Mai trembled, eyes red, but offered no protection. Xiao Lei remained calm, stone-like, his serenity unsettling those who expected fear.

  He inhaled deliberately, exhaled slowly. Contingencies ticked through his mind. Something felt off. Earlier, he had forced the Radiant Sword Sect’s hand to orchestrate an ambush—but a last-minute miscalculation, caused by the pup’s voice that came as soon as he came here, had made it risky.

  A soft laugh escaped him, deliberate and measured. “You are Bai Cheng, correct? The treasure you seek isn’t with me.”

  Bai Cheng’s smirk faltered. Xiao Lei stepped closer to the cliff’s jagged edge. “What are you doing?” Bai Cheng’s voice rose, panic threading through it. None expected a Royal Academy student to walk toward death willingly.

  Xiao Lei’s eyes flicked behind the attackers. Silent, calculated movement revealed the Radiant Sword Sect, who had just arrived. They were meant to stay hidden, wait for the signal. His lips parted, voice sharp, urgent:

  “What are you fools doing here? Run! Give the treasure to Zhen Du!”

  And then he stepped off.

  Gasps fractured the tense air. Bai Cheng lunged toward the precipice, catching only a glimpse of fluttering robes as Xiao Lei’s aura vanished entirely. The Xun clan duo whirled, finally registering the hidden ambushers descending behind them.

  For a heartbeat, the cliff held stunned silence. Wind carried nothing but the echo of sudden, precise motion. No one standing there could follow the trajectory, no mind could trace the calculation behind the leap. Only the memory of calm steel and decisive action lingered.

  The cliff seemed to sigh with anticipation. Below, the valley waited in suspended disbelief.

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  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.