The silence after Meng Ru's words pressed heavier than the mountain mist. Even the ambient hum of heaven-and-earth qi seemed to pause, as if the land itself were listening.
Elder Feng Yin's mind—normally as unmoved as winter stone—shifted under the weight of what he had witnessed. In dozens of trials, he had seen ambition, cowardice, cunning in flashes. But this was something else entirely. This was not collaboration. It was the dissection of living allies into functional components of a single design.
A demonic heart, he thought. Not in the crude sense of malice, but in the Gu world's truest definition: an existence ruled entirely by self-interest and ruthless logic. The Eternal Sect valued strength; in such a world, this quality could raise a man to dominion—or birth the sect's greatest calamity.
Li Chen stood pale as a withered fungus, clutching his bamboo tube as if it might ward off death. Wang Lei's earlier smirk had curdled into stiff-jawed resentment, his eyes avoiding Meng Ru's gaze. The hierarchy between them had shifted; it was no longer defined by sect rank, but by survival probability.
Feng Yin's voice cut through the air, cold and decisive: "Enough. You will follow his plan."
Wang Lei's fists trembled. "Elder, he—"
"It is a lesson in value," Feng Yin interrupted, his tone sharp as a blade-path Gu strike. "At this moment, your value is to serve as diversion. His is to secure the egg. Fail your role, and your worth drops below nothing."
The threat needed no embellishment. In the Primordial Origin, 'worthless' was a death sentence.
Feng Yin turned to Meng Ru. "Lead them. Do not fail."
Meng Ru inclined his head slightly. "Failure has no place in my calculations." His voice was quiet, unhurried—yet it carried the certainty of an oath carved into stone.
He looked to Li Chen. "North cliff, two li. Wind from the north. Apply poison to bait, drop it into the gully, and vanish before the main pack arrives. You will not be seen—if you value your life."
Then to Wang Lei: "Approach from the south. Engage Stealth Gu one hundred steps from the nest. Disturb the guards without direct contact. Do not linger. Your survival is a convenience, not a necessity."
The insult landed like a precise blade between the ribs—measured to wound pride, not cripple function.
Without further words, they melted into the mist: Li Chen toward the cliff, Wang Lei toward the southern slope, Meng Ru slipping into the in-between shadows. Three separate threads of movement, yet all woven into one cold tapestry.
Feng Yin remained in the clearing, the weight of the Jade Dragon Gu's potential in his thoughts. The egg might be the trial's reward, but in his mind, the true prize was already clear: the boy who had bent the trial to his will before it had even begun.