The path beyond Duskwind Hollow narrowed into a winding trail of frost-hardened mud and twisted roots. Morning light filtered through bare branches, pale and brittle, like the promise of warmth that would never come.
Li Rong walked at the front of the group, his breath misting in the cold air, his eyes sharp and calculating. Behind him followed Li Xue (Soul Power: 7, Spirit: Frostfang Wolf), Li Shen (Soul Power: 6, Spirit: Hollow-Eyed Wolf), and Li Wei's hunting disciple, Ren Yao (Soul Power: 5, Spirit: Ironclaw Badger).
The group was quiet, alert, and cold — both from the weather and the presence of the man trailing just behind them like a shadow:
Elder Li Jian (Soul Power: 38, Cultivation Level: Late Soul Elder).His wolf-spirit was long-since awakened — a Bloodsteel Wolf, known for its strength and resilience but not subtlety.
Li Jian hadn't spoken a word since they'd left the village. His sharp eyes watched them not like a guardian, but like a judge.
Li Rong didn't mind. Let him watch. Let him wait.
They would not stumble.
The terrain thickened with frost and bramble. Bare trees loomed like skeletal sentinels, and even the birds seemed hesitant to sing.
"So," Ren Yao muttered, walking beside Li Shen. "What are we hunting exactly?"
"Nothing too strong," Li Xue said. "We're here for first rings, not martyrdom. Spirit beasts around 400 to 700 years."
"Weak," Elder Li Jian scoffed behind them.
The group slowed. Li Rong didn't turn around, but his voice was even when he spoke.
"We are not here to impress you, Elder."
Li Jian raised an eyebrow. "No, of course not. You're here to survive."
He pushed past them and strode ahead, his cloak sweeping frost from the path.
Li Xue clenched her fists. "He's trying to provoke you."
"He's trying to see if I break," Li Rong replied. "Let him."
By mid-morning, they reached the outer ridge of Blackroot Vale, a forest known for its unusually dense concentration of dark-element spirit beasts. The cold seemed deeper here, the silence heavier.
Li Jian halted. "We camp here tonight. Spirit beasts are more active at dusk."
They set up tents and dug a shallow fire pit. Li Rong assigned silent tasks to each member of the group, no orders wasted, no effort duplicated.
As night fell, the first signs came.
A low growl from beyond the trees.
Then another.
Red eyes flashed in the brush.
"They've found us," Ren Yao said, gripping his short axe.
"No," Li Rong corrected, stepping to the front. "We found them."
Three shapes burst from the darkness — sleek, sinuous wolves with bristling silver fur and too-wide grins. Their steps left frost behind.
Frostmourn Wolves — average age: 300 years. Perfect.
Li Rong drew his blade. "Form the crescent. Xue, freeze their flank. Ren, intercept. Shen, you're with me."
They moved like they'd done it a hundred times — not perfectly, but purposefully. Li Xue extended her hand, her Frostfang Wolf spirit glowing pale blue behind her.
"Frozen Pulse!"
One of the wolves skidded as ice sheared across its path, crashing into a rock.
Ren met the second with a shout, axe clashing with claws. Sparks flew.
Li Rong faced the third.
The wolf lunged.
He sidestepped, low and clean, and cut upward, opening a shallow gash across its belly. Blood steamed in the cold.
The beast turned with fury.
He didn't give it the chance to recover.
With a flick of his wrist, he flung a poisoned needle into its side — nothing fatal, but enough to slow it.
Then he moved — a knife to the throat, followed by a twisting strike under the jaw. Clean. Silent.
It collapsed.
Ren shouted in pain — his arm torn.
Li Rong didn't hesitate. "Xue! Switch!"
She darted in, launching shards of frost. Ren fell back, clutching his wound.
Li Shen caught one of the wolves in a tackle, his Hollow-Eyed Wolf spirit hissing with shadow energy. It bit down — the beast howled, disoriented.
Li Rong stepped beside him, and together, they ended it.
The final wolf whimpered and tried to flee.
"No," Li Rong said. "That one's mine."
He approached slowly.
His own spirit surged behind him, half-formed still — the Duskwither Moonfang Wolf, flickering with moonlight and shadow. Its presence was cold and still, commanding.
The beast froze.
He struck — not with anger, but calculation — severing the spine at the neck. Clean.
Silence returned.
Only the crackling fire and the bloodied snow remained.
Later, Elder Li Jian sat watching them from a rock near the fire, arms crossed.
"You're not as soft as I thought," he admitted.
"We're not here to be soft," Li Rong replied, bandaging Ren's arm. "We're here to survive."
"Spirit beasts of that age aren't meant for children."
"We're not children."
Li Jian regarded him for a long moment.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we find one for your ring."
He stood and walked away.
Li Xue sat beside Li Rong quietly.
He didn't speak.
But inside, something stirred — not pride, not relief.
Only focus.
He'd taken one more step toward power.
But it was only the beginning.