The four remaining wolves lunged forward, fangs gleaming, eyes blazing with bloodlust. They came at the young lady like shadows set ablaze.
"Be careful!" Langtian shouted, heart lurching in his chest.
But it seemed his warning wasn't needed at all.
The woman didn't move from her spot.
Instead, she sank into a low stance, red aura pouring from her body like rising smoke. Her legs were firmly rooted to the ground, twin sabers clenched tightly in each hand. Behind her, her dark cloak billowed like wings caught in the wind.
And then—
In a voice calm, cold, and sharp as steel, she whispered:
"Heavenly Wing Slash."
SWOOSH!
In the blink of an eye, she unleashed her technique!
Both sabers swung outward in a sweeping arc, and from them exploded two waves of wind and crimson Qi, shaped like a pair of divine eagle wings cutting through the sky!
SHRRAAAK!
A bladed storm ripped through the wolves!
The beasts didn't even have time to react.
In a flash, all four were cleaved cleanly in half, their bodies crashing to the ground with heavy, wet thuds. Blood fanned out across the stones in gruesome arcs.
Langtian stared, frozen. His eyes trembled with disbelief.
That strike… that speed… that terrifying force…
There was no mistaking it.
It was one of the deadliest moves from the Eighteen Sky-Hunting Eagle Strikes—Heavenly Wing Slash!
Langtian's thoughts raced.
After all, there was only one person who could use this technique at that level: the one who had created the whole style in the first place!
And now, with her standing in front of him, inside this cursed, forsaken valley…
It all started to make sense. The pieces were slowly coming together.
Ten years ago, she had vanished right after forming her Golden Core.
Just like him, she too must've been betrayed. She had fallen into this hell just like he did.
So, all this time… she had survived here, alone.
Fighting.
Enduring.
Becoming even stronger.
"Senior sister… Shangguan…?" Langtian whispered, his voice hoarse and faint, like a dying ember.
The name barely left his lips before his head dropped, vision blurring.
The woman turned. Her crimson eyes widened, stunned.
"What did you just say?"
Her voice was shaking.
But Langtian couldn't answer.
His body slumped.
His mind drifted, as darkness took him.
***
As Langtian slowly opened his eyes, he was no longer lying on cold, bloodstained stone, no longer surrounded by snarling wolves and the stench of death.
Instead, he found himself inside a shelter: a makeshift wooden house, dimly lit and quiet. He lay on a pile of thick beast pelts, roughly stitched together and spread out to form a bed. They were coarse and uneven, but warm.
He blinked, his vision still hazy. His limbs ached, his breath shallow. Confused and groggy, he turned his head and took in his surroundings.
The walls were built from aged, uneven planks, some warped, others cracked. The ceiling overhead was a rough weave of leaves, fur, and tattered cloth. A hole in the center allowed smoke to drift upward, which came from the small fire crackling softly in a stone-lined pit near the middle of the room.
There was very little furniture: just a low table made from a hollowed tree stump, a couple of stools carved from stone, and long the walls were shelves fashioned from branches, stacked with jars of dried herbs, bundles of animal sinew, sharpened bones, and tools made from claw and fang.
Everything smelled of smoke, blood, and old wood… with a faint, earthy undertone of medicinal herbs.
This place felt wild.
It was far from anything fancy, but had all the necessities needed for survival.
Langtian let out a slow breath.
'I see… so this is where she's been all this time.'
His gaze lingered on the details—the careful stitching in the furs, the tools clearly shaped by hand, the scars in the wood, probably from countless battles fought to stay alive.
'She built this all herself… every piece of it.'
A faint smile touched his lips, and he shook his head.
'Senior Sister Shangguan… you're amazing.'
But then, he noticed something else.
"…Wait. I'm naked?! Did Senior Sister do this?!"
Langtian's eyes shot open wider as he scrambled beneath the fur-covered blanket, patting down his body in a frantic panic.
His gaze darted around the room, searching for his clothes, but there was no sign of them anywhere.
"Ah. Right! I did tear it off myself. Haha..."
Langtian chuckled, thinking back to that intense, desperate moment.
Not that it mattered. Even if he hadn't, the robe would've been beyond saving anyway, completely soaked with blood, beast saliva, and all sorts of filth.
And speaking of filth…
"Damn… I stink."
The sharp, metallic tang of dried blood clung to his skin. Sweat, beast drool, and the bitter scent of crushed herbs mixed into a foul stench that made his nose wrinkle in disgust.
Langtian groaned and slowly peeled back the blanket, bracing himself as he took a closer look at his condition.
Bruises covered him from shoulder to foot now, a mess of swollen reds, deep blues, and ugly blacks. Cuts lined his arms and torso, some clean, others jagged, but all had been treated. Thick layers of herbal paste clung to the worst wounds, still glistening with a faint, slimy sheen beneath rough bandages made from torn linen or beast hide.
And then, his right leg throbbed as he tried to move it. Langtian winced.
Right… he had fractured it.
And he was sure he had some other bones broken as well.
He drew a breath and instantly regretted it.
"Fuck! Of course!" He grunted.
His ribs ached like hell. A sharp, heavy pain pulsed with each deep inhale.
But strangely… it wasn't as bad as he thought.
In fact… his ribs were already healing, albeit very slowly, but definitely healing nicely.
And there was something else now, a hot, tingling sensation surging inside his belly. There was a burning, violent energy swirling deep inside him like a storm trapped inside a jar.
'Wait!" He muttered. "This is the effect of a healing pill!"
It had to be!
Looked like Senior Sister had given him a healing pill while he was still unconscious.
'I need to speed up the healing process! I cannot waste this!'
Langtian immediately forced himself upright, sitting cross-legged and slipping into a meditation stance.
He closed his eyes and focused inward.