Chapter 32 – Instincts of the Past
Mist drifted low across the mossy ground as the trio stood in the aftermath of battle. The three beasts lay still, their strange, bone-spiked bodies leaking dark ichor. The silence that followed was tense, only broken by Zhou Fang's quiet breathing and the hiss of fire fading from his arms.
He Chen Qi, still masked by the illusion tool, watched Zhou Fang closely. The red-haired youth flexed his fingers, cracked his neck, and glanced at the small gash along his forearm.
"You're bleeding," Yan Qing'er said softly, stepping toward him.
"It's fine," Zhou Fang replied. "Not deep."
He Chen Qi said nothing at first. His eyes swept over the battlefield, then lingered once more on Zhou.
> That wasn't just strength. That was insight. Sharp reactions, tight execution, even when caught off guard. He moves like someone who's seen hundreds of battles. Not a Rank 3 kid.
Zhou hadn't wasted a single step. His movements were wild, almost reckless, but every action landed with brutal precision. He hadn't relied on technique. He'd relied on instincts—deep, old instincts.
And that troubled Liu Guan Yi.
He Chen Qi turned away, sheathing his sword. "Move. This place stinks of blood. Other beasts will come."
They pressed deeper into the Third Layer, the fog thickening with every step. Faint lights blinked in the trees—spirit-wasps drifting like phantoms. Strange root systems twisted through the ground, forming paths both eerie and beautiful.
Yan Qing'er walked lightly, her presence calm, blade still sheathed but never far from her hand. She walked like a disciple.
Zhou Fang stalked forward like a predator, barefoot now, the soles of his boots burned away. He didn't seem to care.
He Chen Qi stayed behind them both, observing.
> He doesn't flinch from pain. Doesn't ask questions. Doesn't hesitate to kill. His aggression isn't reckless. It's measured. Every strike earlier had a purpose. Even the dirt cloud? That was a timed feint. He fights like a war general...
He glanced at Yan Qing'er.
> And she follows his lead without realizing it. That's trust built through survival. They've fought together before.
But Zhou had the deeper shadows. Even Yan Qing'er didn't know.
They reached a ravine bathed in pale-blue light. At the bottom, glowing mushrooms pulsed faintly, and two horned shadow-lizards circled each other in a territorial dance.
He Chen Qi raised a hand. "We go around."
Zhou didn't argue. That was new. He paused, scanned the ridge.
"There," he said, pointing left. "Rock path. Safer footing."
Yan Qing'er blinked. "You saw that?"
Zhou shrugged. "I've got eyes."
> More than that, Liu thought. He has a predator's vision. Like he knows where traps would be.
They scaled the path. As they walked, He Chen Qi finally asked, "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Zhou glanced back, flame still smoldering faintly along his fingertips. "Back home."
"You said you're from the border provinces."
"I am."
He Chen Qi met his eyes. "You fight like you grew up in a war."
Zhou stopped walking. For a breath, the forest felt still.
Then Zhou smiled—a sharp, knowing smile.
"Maybe I did."
He turned and kept walking.
Yan Qing'er didn't look surprised.