Outside, Lin Shu was being pursued by Han Yi while running alongside Ren Hao and Yan Qing. The three moved swiftly through the dense forest, the sound of footsteps crashing behind them growing louder with every breath.
"I don't think we can outrun her," Ren Hao said, panting. "Should we attack her?"
"Not yet," Lin Shu replied coldly. "We need to lure her far enough away so no one can come to her aid. Then we might have a chance to force her to retreat."
He wasn't speaking out of fear—he was speaking from reason. Lin Shu still wasn't sure if they could defeat Han Yi. She was the personal disciple of Lu Zhenhai, someone likely carrying multiple high-tier techniques, and perhaps even a peak-tier trump card reserved for life-and-death moments. Taking her head-on wasn't bravery—it was stupidity.
Their goal wasn't to win, and it definitely wasn't to kill her. If they simply ran, they'd be labeled as thieves and traitors. They'd be wanted, sure—but in the grand scheme of things, they wouldn't matter much compared to the true enemies of the institute.
But if they killed Han Yi?
If they dared to slay Lu Zhenhai's prized disciple—a future member of the Stormbreak Sect, no less—they wouldn't just be wanted criminals. They'd be targets. The kind the entire institute would drop everything to hunt down. Clans, bounty hunters—everyone would chase them, not just out of loyalty or justice, but for the chance to gain favor with Lu Zhenhai or earn a reward that would change their lives.
That kind of attention didn't fade.
It hunted you to the edge of the continent—and then followed you into the sea.
Han Yi was closing in fast, loosing a flurry of arrows meant not to kill but to slow—each one whistling past them like the warning hiss of a snake. Her precision was terrifying, forcing them to zigzag through trees and leap over roots just to avoid being pinned.
The distance between them shrank until it was no more than the length of five carriages.
That was when Lin Shu suddenly skidded to a halt and turned, his Qi flaring.
"Now," he muttered.
Ren Hao didn't hesitate, his twin daggers flashing to life in each hand. Yan Qing broke formation, flanking left and starting to circle Han Yi with a loose, sweeping motion, his blade glinting.
"Han Yi," Yan Qing called, his voice calm despite the tension. "I can assure you—we only want to leave. We have no interest in the institute or your war. We simply wish to survive. There's no need to fight."
Han Yi's eyes didn't even flicker.
"And why," she said coldly, "would I believe cowards who dared speak ill of my master?"
She drew an arrow without breaking stride, voice like frost.
"If you'd insulted me, I might've turned a deaf ear. But my teacher—he's a red line. And those who cross it..."
Her Qi surged—sharp, focused, ruthless.
"...only earn an arrow to the throat."
Without another word, she unleashed her technique.
High-tier Rank 1: Serpent-Fang Volley
A cascade of arrows burst from her bow, but they didn't fly straight. They spun mid-air, curving and weaving as if guided by instinct, each arrow twisting unpredictably through the air like fanged serpents lunging from all directions.
The arrows didn't follow paths—they hunted. Each one shifted in its arc, swerving around trees, veering into blind spots, bending at angles that defied reason.
It wasn't a barrage—it was a net made of death.
The trio still didn't understand who had twisted the truth—who had dared claim they'd insulted Lu Zhenhai or the other clans. But they were already trapped within the web of lies Lu Heng had spun, feeding poison to his fellow students with a silver tongue and a smirk that never paid the price for its deceit.
Lin Shu raised his arm, and a shield of bone curled into place just in time to catch the incoming volley. The moment the arrows struck, the shield cracked—thin fractures spidering across its surface like frozen lightning. Without hesitation, Lin Shu summoned a bone spear from his other arm and hurled it with all his might.
The spear screamed through the air.
Han Yi dodged with ease, the bone weapon burying itself deep into the earth before beginning to dissolve—its strength severed the moment it left Lin Shu's body.
Ren Hao, quick on the opportunity, flung a spread of daggers that forced Han Yi into a graceful backflip. But the moment she landed—Yan Qing was already behind her. His blade gleamed, aimed for the base of her neck.
But Han Yi didn't flinch.
"High-tier Rank 1: Blink Step."
In that instant, her body blurred. Her form surged midair with a sharp gust of Qi, vanishing and reappearing several steps away in a flash of speed that defied the eye. Yan Qing's blade cut only wind.
Yet the cost showed. As her boots touched the ground, Han Yi staggered for a breath, then another—her technique had saved her, but the toll was clear.
That's when Lin Shu struck.
Twin bone blades lashed out from his forearms. He closed the distance like a predator and slashed down, relentless. But Han Yi had no intention of falling—her bow shimmered with Qi, and from its sides, two sharp, ethereal blades snapped out, forming a deadly hybrid weapon.
Steel clashed with bone.
She parried his strikes with precise deflections, turning each blow aside without breaking stance.
But Lin Shu didn't stop.
With a roar, he charged Qi into his right fist. The bone gauntlet around it swelled, jagged, raw—then crackled with arcs of wild lightning.
"Thunderbolt Fist!"
He slammed his fist toward her chest.
But as the strike landed—
"High-tier Rank 1: Lightningward Conduction Barrier."
A dome of pure lightning erupted between them. Lin Shu's fist crashed into the barrier, but his thunder-infused blow fizzled against the stronger, more refined technique. The clash sparked briefly—then faded.
Han Yi stood behind the barrier, unfazed, while Lin Shu skidded back several steps, panting.
He hadn't broken through.
Gritting his teeth, he backed away—just as Ren Hao surged forward, daggers flashing, ready to take the next exchange.
Ren Hao's palms blazed—flames searing and hungry. He lunged at Han Yi, his strikes fierce and direct. From the opposite side, Yan Qing swept in, his blade carving the air with a sharp arc.
Han Yi met Ren Hao's fiery assault head-on.
"Mid-tier Rank 1: Lightning Palm."
Her palm crackled with electric Qi as it collided with Ren Hao's flaming strike. The shockwave burst outward—sparks and embers scattering as both fighters were knocked several paces back, their techniques equal in power, neither gaining ground.
As Han Yi staggered from the rebound, she used the momentum to slide across the dirt—knees bent, body low, dust kicking up around her. Light crescents came slicing down from Yan Qing, but she ducked under them just in time, sliding out from their arc like a blade slipping past a crack in armor.
Without missing a breath, she lifted her bow—arrows flying in rapid succession at Yan Qing.
He blocked the first, then the second.
But the third—
The final arrow burst in his face with a searing explosion of light.
"High-tier Rank 1: Raptor's Gleam."
A streak of lightning shaped like a raptor tore through the blinding flash, its talons of light screeching through the air straight for Yan Qing's chest.
But Yan Qing's instincts flared.
"High-tier Rank 1: Azure Slash."
He swung his blade in a wide arc, sending out a single massive blue light crescent—savage and howling, infused with enough Qi to tear stone asunder. The technique met the raptor head-on, sparks bursting between sky-blue and crackling gold.
Lin Shu and Ren Hao didn't hesitate.
"Thunderbolt Arc!" Lin Shu roared, a jagged bolt of thunder crashing from his palm, wild and untamed.
"Daggers Barrage!" Ren Hao unleashed a storm of spinning daggers, each one glowing faintly with Qi as they streaked alongside the lightning bolt.
Han Yi's eyes narrowed.
She couldn't dodge.
Yan Qing's slash had locked her path, and Lin Shu's and Ren Hao's techniques were closing in fast.
She clenched her fist.
"High-tier Rank 1: Lightningward Conduction Barrier!"
Once again, the lightning dome erupted around her—a radiant sphere of pure Qi. Yan Qing's crescent, Lin Shu's arc, and Ren Hao's barrage all crashed into it at once.
Boom.
The collision shook the air—blinding light and crackling thunder exploding across the field. Dust and wind roared outward, veiling the battlefield in a glowing haze.