Chapter 18: Shadows in the Mist
The world twisted.
A sharp flash of light burst behind their eyelids, and then came the pull—like being yanked through a narrow tunnel of wind and pressure. When Flux and Ryo landed, the moss-covered ground beneath them felt soft but cold, damp from years of untouched rainfall. The air clung to their skin with a chill that bit straight through their robes.
The scent of wet earth filled their lungs—rich, metallic, and ancient. It smelled like rot and roots, like the breath of something long buried.
A chilling wind swept through the forest, brushing past them in silent warning. The trees towered in every direction, massive and gnarled, their branches interwoven like skeletal fingers. Thick mist clung to the ground and twined around trunks, curling and coiling like sleeping serpents waiting to strike.
Flux adjusted his grip on his sword, his eyes scanning the endless shadows. "We're in."
Ryo rubbed his arms, shivering. "Yeah… and it's freezing. Did they forget to mention this trial realm feels like a ghost's backyard?"
Flux's expression didn't change, but his tone was calm. "Dense spiritual energy. Wild terrain. Perfect for ambushes."
The mist moved with a strange purpose, crawling around their legs as they walked, muting their steps. Every faint rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sent a ripple of tension through the air. Every tree could be hiding a blade.
They crouched near the roots of a towering old tree, half-buried in moss. Flux bent low, brushing the soft greenery with practiced fingers.
"No fresh tracks," he whispered. "No shift in the local qi flow… but that might just mean they used stealth techniques."
Ryo leaned in, his voice hushed. "You're seriously good at this."
Flux stood, eyes still scanning the canopy. "You learn things living in the forest outside Oaktown. Survival depends on it. Listen more. Move less."
Ryo chuckled, the sound light but tinged with unease. "Great. I'm traveling with a walking wilderness manual. What's next, talking to squirrels?"
Flux didn't laugh, but one corner of his mouth twitched.
His gaze lingered on the trees—the way the mist curled through the boughs, the faint rustle of branches shifting far above. The memory of days spent hunting demon beasts surfaced unbidden: quiet nights under the stars, the constant edge of danger, the rhythm of breath and blade in harmony with nature.
He exhaled, pushing the thought aside. Now wasn't the time for nostalgia.
"Let's move. We'll need shelter before nightfall."
They slipped through the underbrush, weaving between bramble and fern, every step deliberate. The forest buzzed with spiritual murmurs—some distant, others unsettlingly close. Beasts lurked here. So did cultivators.
After nearly two hours of cautious movement, they found a hollow nestled between two cliff walls. The terrain offered natural cover: high rocks, thick trees, only one narrow path in or out. A perfect choke point.
Flux stepped forward and traced symbols through the air with fluid fingers. Blue light shimmered briefly, spreading across the hollow in gentle ripples.
"Concealment spell," he murmured. "Now for a basic protection array."
Runes lit up and sank into stone and soil, forming a nearly invisible dome that shimmered faintly before vanishing from sight.
Ryo gave a low whistle. "Where'd you learn that kind of array work?"
Flux shrugged modestly. "When your life depends on it, you learn fast."
Ryo grinned, easing down onto a mossy stone. "Remind me not to piss you off in the wilderness."
They sat in silence for a moment, letting the tension ease from their bodies. The mist above had thinned slightly, revealing glimpses of a dull, gray sky.
Ryo broke the quiet. "So… what's the plan? We can't just hole up here for three days."
Flux nodded. "We scout. Ambush. Target weakened groups. Avoid direct conflict unless necessary. Go for token holders who've already fought—they'll be tired, easier to deal with."
"Smart. Less work, more reward. I like it."
Once their energy was restored and the concealment held strong, they slipped back into the forest—moving deeper, softer, like shadows with purpose.
Then—Flux stopped.
His head tilted slightly, breath held.
"Wait."
Ryo halted beside him. "What is it?"
Flux narrowed his eyes, body tense. "The wind just shifted. And the mist... it's too still."
A sudden pressure slammed into the atmosphere.
Killing intent burst from the treetops above.
"Ambush!" Flux snapped, stepping in front of Ryo.
Three figures dropped like thunderbolts through the fog, landing with barely a sound. Robes black with violet trim—Night Lotus Pavilion.
Their arrival was silent. But their presence screamed violence.
The leader—a woman with jade daggers in each hand—shot forward, blades glinting like moonlight. Her companions followed, wielding polearms pulsing with internal qi.
"Three enemies!" Flux called. "Two fifth level, one sixth!"
Ryo's sword flashed into his hand, lightning coiling around his arms with a hiss. "Let's make them regret it."
They struck without hesitation. The polearm wielders attacked in perfect sync—one locking Flux in place, the other swinging in brutal arcs at Ryo. The woman danced through the clash, her movements fluid and precise, daggers aimed at pressure points and soft gaps in armor.
Steel clashed. Sparks flew.
Flux twisted beneath a sweeping strike, parried, and stepped into the space between blows. His blade moved like a whisper, but his eyes burned with sharp calculation.
"They're using a formation," he growled. "They're trying to separate us!"
Ryo broke to the side, lightning bursting from his blade. He staggered one attacker with a crack of thunder—but it was bait.
The dagger-wielding woman vanished and reappeared behind him.
A flash of silver. A line of blood.
"Ryo!" Flux shouted, eyes wide.
Ryo spun, roaring as he unleashed a wave of crackling force. The energy surged—but the assassin tossed a qi-mirror talisman.
His own attack slammed into his chest.
Ryo hit the ground with a thud, choking on blood.
"Damn it—these guys are serious!" he wheezed.
Flux's blade moved faster, deflecting twin strikes as sweat beaded on his brow. The enemies pressed hard—disciplined, ruthless, without wasted motion.
He couldn't keep this up. Not while protecting Ryo.
He took a breath.
Let go of thought.
Miststep Flow.
His body blurred, vanishing mid-motion.
The polearms struck empty air.
Above them—
Whirling Crescent.
A glowing arc sliced through the fog, radiant and sharp. The force exploded outward in a storm of spiritual power.
Boom.
One enemy's polearm shattered.
The other was blasted back, arm twisted unnaturally, blood spraying from a torn shoulder.
The formation collapsed.
Flux didn't hesitate. He darted to Ryo, hauled him up with one hand.
"Hold on."
Energy surged beneath his feet.
Miststep.
They vanished into the mist, leaving behind only silence and curses.
The female assassin stood alone, panting, her blade slick with blood. She wiped it clean with one swift motion.
"That one..." she muttered. "He's got real instinct. Not many slip through a Night Lotus triad."
But they didn't follow.
They had left a message—and done enough damage for one encounter.
---
Back at the Hideout
Flux laid Ryo down with steady hands, but his eyes remained locked on the forest beyond their concealed dome.
He fished two pills from his pouch—one golden, one pale blue—and pressed them into Ryo's mouth.
"These will counter the paralysis and begin the healing. Swallow."
Ryo grimaced, coughed, but obeyed. "Damn... I didn't think we'd get jumped so fast."
Flux reinforced the concealment array, each rune glowing slightly brighter before vanishing. Then he sat near the edge, sword across his lap.
"They weren't just random challengers," he said. "That was a trained kill team."
Ryo leaned back with a pained groan. "Well… they picked the wrong pair."
"You almost got eliminated."
"But I didn't. You dragged me out."
Flux didn't answer. His gaze remained fixed on the dark woods.
The silence stretched until Ryo muttered, "Next time… no breaks. No distractions."
Flux's voice was low. "We move smarter. No assumptions."
He glanced at the mist.
"From now on… we strike first. On our terms."
Outside, the forest shifted. The mist rolled in thicker, heavier, curling once more around bark and stone.
The first day was over.
And it had nearly cost them everything.