By the second day, the pursuit became undeniable.
Shadows slipped in and out of the treeline—never close enough to strike, never far enough to lose. Always watching. Always waiting.
At night, when the campfire guttered low, Ruo Han would feel it most: that cold gaze pressing against his skin, as though the darkness itself leaned closer. He barely slept. Each time he woke, Xiyue was still awake, seated cross-legged with his sword across his knees, his eyes reflecting firelight and vigilance.
On the third morning, Ling Han's temper snapped.
"This is ridiculous," he growled, kicking snow from his boots. "Like rabbits waiting for the hawk to swoop. One day, they'll stop watching and actually strike. Then what?"
Xiyue rose, brushing frost from his robes. His expression was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "Then we stop waiting."
Both Ruo Han and Ling Han looked at him.
Xiyue's gaze swept the trees, the ridges, the narrow trail ahead. "They believe they are herding us. That they can drive us like prey into their net. Good. We'll let them think it. Tonight, we turn and break their line."
Ruo Han's breath caught. "You mean… to ambush them."
"Not ambush," Xiyue corrected. His voice was quiet, but it carried an edge that made even Ling Han's protest falter. "We hunt."
The plan unfolded with ruthless precision.
Xiyue marked the ridgeline where the shadows had lingered longest. Ling Han scouted narrow gullies where sound carried too easily. And Ruo Han—though doubt gnawed at him—traced faint sigils in the snow, his power coaxed into patterns of light that pulsed just enough to draw an eye.
By dusk, the trap was laid.
The fire they lit was small, the camp arranged as though careless, as though exhaustion had dulled their guard. Ruo Han forced himself to lie still, every heartbeat loud in his chest.
The snow whispered.
Branches shifted.
And then—movement.
A pale mask glimmered through the dark. Then another. Then three. Silent, certain, descending like wolves.
Ruo Han's pulse stuttered. His hand twitched toward Xiyue before he could stop himself.
And Xiyue—sitting motionless as stone—finally opened his eyes.
"Now."
The forest exploded.