He took a moment to communicate with his new ally again, a silent probe into the sanctuary. He sent a simple, questioning thought: What should I call you? A response, ancient and profound, echoed back not in words, but in pure, instinctual knowledge. It was a concept of the primordial void, of the infinite abyss before creation. Khaos. The name was not given, but remembered. He could feel the miniature crab, Khaos, resting in the crimson-gold mist. Its consciousness was dormant, in a deep state of hibernation as it absorbed the nourishing energy of the sanctuary to stabilize and grow. But even in its sleep, its power was a palpable, terrifying thing.
He could also feel a new, profound connection between his Koi spirit and Khaos. They were not master and servant; they were two parts of a whole, a symbiotic pact that was already beginning to benefit them both. The Koi's own aura felt deeper, its vitality enriched by the trace of abyssal energy it now housed.
After a few minutes of recovery, Li Yu knew he had to move. His "heroic sacrifice" required a plausible conclusion. He couldn't just reappear at the sect gates. He had to be found, a survivor against all odds.
He took out the Void-Shift Talisman his master had given him. He had not used it, but he would make it seem as if he had. With a small surge of Qi, he activated the talisman's outer rune, causing it to flare with a brilliant, silver light before it crumbled into inert dust. He scattered the dust on the rocks, leaving behind the "evidence" of his miraculous escape.
Now came the hard part. He had to navigate his way out of the Serpent's Heart basin and find the others, all while appearing to be a lost, disoriented, and lucky-to-be-alive Body Tempering disciple. He used his «Rippling Shadow Step» to skim across the black water, moving not with the silent grace of a predator, but with a slightly clumsy, hurried pace. He deliberately splashed, creating ripples, making his passage seem like a desperate flight.
He left the basin and re-entered the oppressive fog of the Mire of Shadows. Here, his spiritual sense was his compass. He could feel the faint, terrified auras of the three surviving disciples—Su Ling, Zhao Wei, and one other from Zhao Wei's team—huddled together nearly a mile away. They were not moving, clearly too terrified to risk navigating the mire on their own.
Li Yu began his performance. He deliberately took a winding, inefficient route. He would occasionally let out a convincing shout, "Senior Sister Su! Senior Brother Zhao! Is anyone there?" His voice, filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, would echo eerily in the fog.
After nearly an hour of this charade, he finally "stumbled" upon their makeshift camp.
The three survivors were huddled back-to-back on a small, relatively dry patch of ground, their swords drawn, their faces pale and streaked with grime. The moment Li Yu emerged from the fog, they leaped to their feet, their auras flaring defensively.
"Who's there!" Zhao Wei shrieked, his voice cracking with fear.
"Senior Brother Zhao? Senior Sister Su?" Li Yu called out, his voice filled with a wave of perfectly acted relief. He stumbled forward, collapsing to one knee, panting heavily. "You're alive! I thought… I thought I was the only one."
They stared at him as if he were a ghost. Zhao Wei's jaw hung open, his eyes wide with disbelief. Su Ling's cold expression was fractured with a look of profound shock.
"Li Yu?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "How… how is this possible? We saw you charge that… that thing."
"The talisman," Li Yu gasped, clutching his chest. "My master's Void-Shift Talisman. I drew the monster's attention, and just as it was about to strike, I activated it. The teleportation was… violent. It threw me miles away, into a part of the swamp I didn't recognize. I've been trying to find my way back ever since." He looked up, his eyes wide and filled with a convincing, lingering terror. "What was that creature? And Senior Brother Jian Long… the others…?"
His question hung in the air, a grim, unspoken confirmation of the massacre they had all witnessed.
Zhao Wei let out a choked sob and sank back to the ground, his bravado completely shattered. "Gone," he whimpered. "They're all gone. Just… erased. We have to get out of here. We have to get back to the sect!"
Su Ling, however, did not break. Her mind, sharp and analytical even in the face of such horror, was working. She looked at Li Yu, her gaze sweeping over him. He was covered in mud and grime, his robes were torn, and he seemed to be utterly drained of Qi. He looked exactly like a disciple who had survived a desperate, life-or-death escape. And yet… it was too perfect. His story was plausible, but the sheer luck involved was astronomical.
"You are injured?" she asked, her voice regaining its usual coolness.
"No, Senior Sister," Li Yu replied, shaking his head. "Just exhausted. The talisman drained all of my spiritual energy."
"Then you are fortunate indeed," she said, her tone unreadable. She turned her attention to the two trembling disciples. "Zhao Wei, get a hold of yourself. Panicking will get us killed. We have lost our leader and half our number. From this point on, I am in command. We will rest here for one more hour to allow Junior Brother Li to recover, and then we will move. Our objective is to get out of this fen alive."
Her authority was absolute. Zhao Wei and the other disciple nodded meekly, their gazes now fixed on her as their only hope of survival.
During the hour of rest, the dynamic of the group was established. Su Ling was the unquestioned leader, her calm demeanor a rock in the sea of their fear. Zhao Wei and the other disciple were her terrified but obedient followers. And Li Yu was the miraculous survivor, the lucky mascot whose presence was both a comfort and a deep, unsettling mystery.
"Do you know the way out, Senior Sister?" Li Yu asked, his voice still weak.
Su Ling looked at the oilskin map, her brow furrowed. "The path we took is now behind us, and I do not wish to pass through that clearing again. The map suggests a different route, a longer but potentially safer path that follows a deep-water channel. We will take that way."
Li Yu looked at the map. His spiritual sense told him that the "safer" path was teeming with Rank 3 Thorn-Backed Crocodiles. It was a death trap for a group in their weakened, terrified state.
"Senior Sister," he said, his voice hesitant. "When I was lost… the teleportation threw me near a different area. I saw a ridge of black stone to the west. My father was a fisherman, and he always said that in a swamp, high, rocky ground is the safest path. The big water beasts can't reach it."
It was another of his carefully crafted lies, a piece of "folk wisdom" that provided a logical reason for his uncanny intuition.
Su Ling looked at him, her gaze sharp and probing. She then looked at her map. There was indeed a small, unmarked ridge of hills to the west. It was not a designated path. "That is uncharted territory. It could be home to land-based beasts we are not prepared for."
"Perhaps," Li Yu said softly. "But the water… I have a bad feeling about the water."
Su Ling was silent for a long moment, weighing the words of a disciple whose "bad feelings" had so far proven to be unnervingly accurate against the established knowledge of the sect's map. Finally, she made her decision.
"We will take the ridge," she declared. "But we will move with extreme caution."
The journey that followed was a tense, arduous trek. But under Li Yu's subtle, invisible guidance, it was a safe one. Whenever he "sensed" danger, he would suggest a slight change in course, always with a plausible, humble reason. "The ground looks softer over there, Senior Sister," or "I think I hear something in that direction." Each time, his intuition allowed them to bypass a predator's lair or a patch of treacherous quicksand.
They traveled for two days, their progress slow but steady. The disciples' initial suspicion of Li Yu's luck began to transform into a grudging, almost superstitious reliance on his instincts. He was their guide, their lucky star in this living hell.
On the evening of the second day, as they were setting up camp on the rocky ridge, Su Ling approached him as he stared out at the vast, misty swamp below.
"You are not what you seem, Li Yu," she said, her voice a quiet statement, not a question.
"I am just a disciple trying to survive, Senior Sister. Same as you," he replied, not meeting her gaze.
"No," she said, her eyes fixed on his profile. "I have seen geniuses. I have seen lucky fools. I have never seen both in the same person. You did not just survive the basin. You chose the one path that would save us all. You are either the luckiest man in the world, or you are far more than you appear."
Li Yu finally turned to look at her, his expression placid. "Perhaps, Senior Sister, it is simply that in the water, a fish knows the currents better than a bird."
He left her with that cryptic statement, a final layer of mystery to cloak his secrets. He knew she did not believe him, not entirely. But she had no proof, only a deep, unsettling feeling. And in the dangerous world of cultivation, a feeling without proof was just a whisper in the wind.
He looked out at the dark, sprawling fen. He had survived the trap. He had acquired a world-shaking power. And he had navigated the treacherous currents of his fellow disciples' suspicions. The storm had come, and he had weathered it. Now, all that was left was the long, quiet journey home.