I broke the surface with a spray of salt and foam, gasping for breath but already calculating my next moves. Calvin Bedrock churned past me, solid as ever, his powerful strokes holding him in fourth place. I didn't waste a second. Circulating Eternal Breath, my meridians dilated, Qi from the spiritual plane flooded my chakras in a searing, rejuvenating torrent. My Eon Qi pool condensed and refilled almost instantly, each pulse like a drumbeat of raw power.
Prince Edward surged alongside, eyes wide, chest still rising with heavy breaths. "Ash… thank you. I— I wouldn't have made it without you." His gaze flicked to my hand, then widened further. "You… you actually killed it?"
I smirked, tucking the Mystic Turquoise Sea Dragon Core securely into my spirit ring. "Yeah. But there's a lot worse down there," I said, voice low, letting the ocean currents carry the weight of the warning.
Edward's expression sharpened, a mix of awe and respect burning in his eyes. "You've… outdone yourself. Truly."
I gave him a light jab in the shoulder, "Well just stick around, and wait till you see what my next trick is."
The horizon ahead shimmered with heat and motion, Calvin, Ken Renzo and Seymour streaking through the waves, their Qi blazing like twin comets. And behind us sixteen others. My body responded instinctively, every fiber and spirit thread attuned to the water. I surged forward, cutting through the Mystic Turquoise Ocean like a living spear, propelled by Eternal Breath and Eon Qi in perfect harmony.
The wind and waves screamed past me. The race was far from over, but now, armed with both speed and momentum, I was ready to reclaim my position among the top five — and nothing in this ocean, no beast or competitor, was going to stop me. The island rose like a jade fang from the sea — sheer cliffs dripping with mist, palm-fronds glowing faintly under the Mystic Turquoise Sun light. Seymour from the Paradise Water Continent and cultivator of the Endless Ocean Path was the first to breach the shallows, his form slicing through the surf as if the sea itself had chosen him. He stepped onto the black coral sand, water peeling away from his skin like silk — serene, smug, sovereign.
I hit the shallows seconds later, launching forward with one last Qi-empowered surge. The waves broke beneath me in a roar as I bounded onto the beach, water streaming off my langot, Tri-Emblem gleaming under the mid-day sun. My lungs burned, but I couldn't help a grin — second place wasn't bad, considering I'd wrestled a dragon halfway here.
Ken Renzo came in third, his Cloud Continent technique making him glide rather than swim, barely disturbing the surface. Prince Edward surfaced next, panting but triumphant, his princely composure barely intact after the sea dragon ambush. And last of the leading five, Calvin of Bedrock stormed out of the water like a charging bull, droplets hissing where they touched his heated Qi armor.
The fifteen others were still distant streaks across the ocean — dots of power struggling against waves and fatigue. Seymour turned toward me, his eyes glimmering like twin sapphires. "The sea chose her favorite today," he said, voice calm but heavy with pride. I laughed, shaking my head. "She also tried to feed me to something with tentacles bigger than city towers. So maybe she's fickle."
Ken Renzo smirked. "Second place, Ashriel. That's impressive, considering you stopped to play hero."
Prince Edward stepped up beside me, still breathing hard but smiling faintly. "Heroics have their own rewards," he said, glancing toward us, slowly straightening up to his full princely stature. I was scanning the jungle line with the eye of heaven searching for the Star fruit. I turned back to the others, "After that Sea dragon attack perhaps we should team up before we just go running through this jungle."
For a heartbeat, the only reply was the hum of the jungle — a deep, steady vibration like the island itself was listening. The mist pulsed faintly with turquoise light, coiling around the five as though it wanted to hear their decision too.
Ken Renzo broke the silence first. His tone was clipped, all efficiency. "Fine. I don't like owing anyone favors, but I like being eaten less. We move together — for now." His eyes darted toward Ash, acknowledging his leadership in that unspoken cultivator way: respect wrapped in rivalry.
Prince Edward nodded, still visibly shaken from his encounter beneath the waves. "Agreed. Whatever's in there, it feels… aware. I'd rather have someone who's already slain a sea dragon watching my back."
Calvin of Bedrock grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Finally, someone says it. Strength in numbers, lads. If somethin' jumps us, I'll crush it. You just point me the right way."
Seymour hesitated. His gaze wandered toward the coastline shimmering in the distance — his home element calling him back. Then he sighed, resigned. "Land-lovers are...so noisy," he muttered, though his Qi was already aligning with theirs. "Very well. I'll keep the waters around us calm — for what good it'll do. But if I hear the ocean screaming again, I'm gone."
The unspoken pact settled between them, a pulse of intent that stirred the air. I felt the faint alignment of five distinct Qi signatures — wood, stone, wind, water, and his own Eon radiance — knitting together into a fragile unity. "Then it's settled," I said quietly. "We move as one. No heroes. No stragglers."
I took the lead, scanning the deep green ahead. The jungle seemed to draw back, vines slithering out of our path like serpents avoiding flame.
And with that, the five figures disappeared into the living labyrinth, the mist closing silently behind them — as if the island itself had accepted the challenge.
My eye of heaven shimmered faintly as I focused thin wisps of Intent into it, sharpening every detail until around me The mist that clung to the treeline wasn't natural — it moved with intent, curling and recoiling from the group's aura, as if it were alive and assessing us.
"Something's wrong here," I murmured, my voice low but steady. "This fog isn't just moisture — it's saturated with intent."
Prince Edward frowned, hand instinctively moving to his side before remembering his sword had been left on the coast. "Intent? From what kind of beast?"
I tilted my head, scanning deeper. Beyond the trees, the shapes of colossal flowers pulsed faintly, glowing from within — each blossom as large as a man, breathing in rhythm with the wind. Between them moved shadows — swift, deliberate.
"Hard to say," I replied. "But the flora here's feeding it Qi. The whole island's alive — and watching."
Ken Renzo gave a sharp whistle, the sound like a shard of wind. "Then we move fast. Get the fruit, get out. No sightseeing."
Seymour said nothing, but the sea cultivator's eyes gleamed with unease. He was glancing back toward the ocean as if longing to dive back into it — as though the land itself made his skin crawl.
The five pressed into the jungle, their combined auras parting the mist. Vines the width of tree trunks twisted overhead, dripping with luminous dew. The air was thick with sweetness — intoxicating and strange.
Calvin grunted as his foot sank slightly into the mossy ground. "Feels like it's breathing," he muttered.
I scanned ahead again — and my breath caught. Through the foliage, just faintly visible, was a grove of golden trees at the island's heart. Each bore heavy, radiant fruit, glowing with shifting light — the Star Fruit of Verdant Spirit. But surrounding them, coiled around the grove like living statues, were serpentine roots of something immense.
"Found it," I said quietly. "And it's guarded."
Prince Edward stepped beside me, eyes narrowing. "By what?" I exhaled slowly. "By something that doesn't sleep."
The five reached the grove's edge first, emerging from the fog into a clearing so bright it felt like stepping into another world. Golden trees towered above them, their canopies aflame with light, fruit glimmering like miniature suns. But all that beauty bent around a single horror:
At the grove's heart rose a mass of writhing green-black vines the size of ship masts, pulsing with a rhythm like a heartbeat. The thing breathed — slow, wet inhalations that stirred the leaves and sent motes of gold dust spiraling through the air. At its crown hung a cluster of withered faces — humanoid, some still half-recognizable, their expressions twisted in eternal agony. And from deep within its tangled core came a sound — not a growl, but something closer to a whisper, rasping through a thousand stems.
The Vine Plight Lord.
A demonic entity born of corrupted wood Qi, its roots spread through the entire island, drinking the essence of any who set foot here. The Star Fruit trees weren't its guardians — they were its bait.
Ash felt it before he saw it move — a flicker of predatory intent brushing against his mind like a spiderweb. His muscles tensed instinctively. "Everyone stay still," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "It's sensing vibration… movement."
Before anyone could respond, the jungle erupted with footsteps — branches snapping, Qi flashing through the mist. The fifteen other cultivators had arrived, fanning out into three tight groups of five. They burst into the clearing expecting a race, not a nightmare.
Then they saw it.
Every voice died. The air grew so still that even breath felt like blasphemy.
A young man from the Northern Continent whispered, "What...is that?"
His words were the spark. The Vine Plight Lord stirred. Its central mass shifted, vines coiling and uncoiling in a grotesque imitation of waking limbs. One of its many faces peeled open, and from its mouth poured a guttural moan that rolled through the clearing like thunder.
Seymour swore softly. "It's not just demonic Qi… it's hungry."
Ken Renzo's hand found his sword hilt. "Looks like the race just changed."
Prince Edward's eyes darted toward me. "You've fought worse. Orders?"
I didn't answer immediately — my gaze was locked on the monster's core, pulsing faintly deep inside the living tangle. I could feel its power, vast and ancient.
"Fight smart," I said at last, voice calm but sharp as lightning. "Four groups — we move like blades through the forest. If you hit it wrong, it'll just grow back. Find the heart. Sever it."
The Vine Plight Lord screamed — a shriek that bent the air — and the ground split open as roots exploded outward like spears.
And just like that, the grove became a battlefield.