CHAPTER 219: INTO THE MAW

Jian Feng stepped forward, voice cold and clipped. “What’s a disciple of the Iron Palm Sect doing crawling with bandits?”

Han Chen didn't rise to the bait. He only adjusted his footing, pressing his heel into the earth until it stopped sliding.

“Honor,” he said flatly, “doesn’t put medicine in a sick man’s hands.”

He braced himself. Not waiting for pity. Not expecting forgiveness.

His qi flared, low and dense, coursing down his arms into the pads of his palms. A faint cracking echoed as the stone beneath him spiderwebbed from pressure. With one sharp exhale, he launched forward.

The boy in maroon met his charge.

They collided like brushfire meeting brick. Sparks flared from the boy's fingertips as he struck with pinpoint precision, swift jabs aimed at Han Chen’s joints and ribs, each movement coiled with flame.

The blows landed, sizzling fabric and blistering the surface of Han Chen’s tunic; but they didn’t dig deep.

Han Chen felt the heat bite at his skin but rolled through it. His palm swept across in a wide arc, forcing Kai to duck low and backstep out of reach.

“You hit fast,” Han Chen grunted, eyes narrowing. “But I’ve taken worse.”

He hated the way his voice cracked near the end. But it didn’t matter. He had to hold this line.

Kai didn’t respond. His eyes were focused, narrowed, reading each shift in Han Chen’s posture. He moved again, this time looping around with a high feint, only to twist into a low flick aimed at Han Chen’s ankle. Sparks snapped again as the flame flared.

But the Iron Palm stance held.

Not that it mattered. His real concern was the man behind his opponent. Han Chen could tell that the blade wielder was more skilled than he let on. But what caught his attention was him moving away from their battle rather than joining in.

The Verdant Lotus disciple had already begun slipping along the far edge of the clearing, eyes locked on the tunnel deeper into the hideout.

“Go,” The boy called, still dancing around Han Chen like water skimming stone. “You're better with detecting traps, right? The others are coming soon.”

"Stay safe, Kai!"

Han Chen tensed. “I won’t let you!”

He surged forward, hand braced for a downward smash—but just before he could close the gap, a cold wind swept in the entrance.

Something blurred overhead.

Wings. Blue and black and wide as banners.

A girl with too-large eyes and twitching antennae landed beside the boy named Kai, crouched low with one hand brushing the stone.

Beside her, a snake beast slithered from a crevice in the stone, its scales slick with blood, tongue flicking rapidly as it surveyed the battlefield.

Han Chen’s breath caught in his throat. He’d fought monsters. Cultivators. But these two were clearly some form of spirit beasts.

'Is this group associated with the demonic cultists that destroyed our sect?'

The very thought sent a shiver of fear down Han Chen's spine.

Kai didn’t look at them. He just nodded.

“Tianyi. Windy. Help Jian Feng. Tell me once everything's clear.”

Her eyes swept the battlefield, and focused on Han Chen for a brief moment. He tensed, readying for an attack.

But the butterfly girl leapt again without a word, vanishing into the gloom of the deeper tunnel. The snake followed with a whisper of scales, too fast for him to even react.

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Han Chen gave a breathless, bitter laugh. “You should’ve run when you had the chance.”

He didn’t say it to taunt. He meant it.

The thought of what Renshu might do in those tunnels… it could end in everybody's death.

He clenched his fists. He had to defeat this boy, now. Before Renshu Bao would dare think about using his last resort.

Kai turned his head slightly, eyes flicking over Han Chen.

He didn’t answer.

The moment stretched thin. Then, the cavern trembled.

A deep groan rumbled from the rock around them, and stone cracked loose from the ceiling in great hunks.

Han Chen instinctively stepped back, hand raised to guard. Rubble slammed down behind the first-class disciple—slabs of it, thick and wide, sealing the narrowing tunnel that Jian Feng and the others had just passed through.

Dust billowed. The air grew thick and heavy.

Kai spun, eyes wide for the first time since they started.

Renshu Bao’s traps didn’t need to be elegant. They just needed to be effective.

Han Chen didn’t smile.

He felt no victory, only dread.

'You see now,' he wanted to say. 'You see the foolishness of jumping right into the tiger's den.'

But he kept his mouth shut. His fists clenched. The guilt came later. For now, all that mattered was keeping Renshu happy… long enough to earn one more pill.

Whatever else he was, Renshu Bao knew how to fight like a rat with his back to a wall. He'd take care of those intruders.

Just like he did with Han Chen himself.

The path ahead felt too quiet.

Jian Feng narrowed his eyes as they advanced through the corridor of stone, Tianyi at his flank, Windy slithering just ahead in coiled readiness. The air reeked of damp moss, old ash, and blood. With the way the path behind them collapsed, it was clear they wouldn't be able to leave unless through a different exit.

The second-class disciple ran his palm along the wall—smooth, almost polished, with none of the jagged irregularities natural caves bore.

'The slope's too even. There's no natural erosion here.'

“We’ve only seen half the numbers the scouts reported,” Jian Feng said under his breath. “At least a dozen more should be unaccounted for. Be wary.”

Tianyi tilted her head slightly, antennae twitching. As they continued, the path bended unnaturally, forcing them to go almost shoulder-to-shoulder as they travelled deeper into the caves. It went far deeper than he ever thought it would.

'This isn't a bandit hideout. It's closer to a fortress.

No group of scattered thugs could build this. So who did?'

Then—

A voice echoed, bouncing through the narrow passage with theatrical bravado.

“Welcome, welcome! I see our guests have wandered deeper than expected.”

A plume of dust exploded overhead. Pebbles and grit showered down. A second rumble brought a chunk of rock loose, crashing near their feet and kicking up another wave of chalky smoke.

Jian Feng staggered, choking as the cloud swallowed his sight.

Windy hissed low and curled in on himself, instinctively shielding his softer underbelly from debris.

But Tianyi didn’t cough. Didn’t flinch. Her wings shimmered with light, and in a single beat, blue qi rippled outward, a pulse of compressed wind that fanned through the passage like a storm’s breath.

The dust vanished, peeled away in a spiraling gust. The choking cloud dispersed, revealing more than just the tunnel ahead.

Clinks hit the floor—nets, weighted with small metal rings, fell like traps from above, bouncing harmlessly off stone. They would have tangled Windy in an instant. Even Tianyi might’ve lost control of her wings.

Jian Feng’s eyes narrowed. “Watch for nets! They'll restrict your movement.”

“Oh for the love of—ATTACK!”

The tunnel burst into noise. Bandits surged forward, a rough wedge of bodies pushing into the corridor, brandishing a motley collection of weapons. Rusted spears, chipped axes, cleavers. They didn’t need skill. Just numbers.

Tianyi moved before they did.

A blur.

She struck the first bandit in the face with a flying knee, wings snapping forward like twin blades, knocking two others off balance. Her punches came next, hammering into throats and ribs with enough force to kill.

Windy shot forward to support her.

SCHWING!

He twisted mid-air to avoid a spear thrust from a hidden alcove on the right wall.

The attack would’ve skewered another beast.

But Windy was Windy.

He spun, wrapped his coils around the man’s arm, and snapped his fangs into the neck before the attacker could scream. A gurgle of blood followed as Windy launched past him, charging deeper and sowing chaos in between their ranks.

The other bandits faltered. Fear bloomed behind their eyes.

“Monsters,” someone whispered.

They began to backpedal, jostling one another. One stumbled, another tripped.

A panicked shout came from the back.

“Use it! Just throw it, damn it!”

A bandit fumbled with something round and clay, pulling it from a bag.

It flew.

A clay pot, sloshing with unknown liquid. Glowing faintly at the seams.

From behind, The voice from before boomed in panic.

“Don’t throw that, you idiot—not in an enclosed—”

“GET BACK!” Jian Feng’s voice cut through the chaos.

Tianyi froze mid-step.

So did Windy.

Jian Feng stepped forward instead, sword in hand. Calm. Precise.

The pot spun through the air in a lazy arc.

Jian Feng didn’t swing to break it.

Instead, he tapped it—just the edge of his blade, so gently it didn’t even chip the ceramic. With smooth, practiced footwork, he pivoted with it, painting a curve through the air with his sword, redirecting the pot and slowing its momentum.

With a smooth pivot, he redirected its momentum downward and away, letting it tumble behind him.

THUNK.

The pot rolled into a shallow groove behind him and stilled. Unbroken. Inert.

The mist of panic began to clear, though tension still hung thick as smoke.

Jian Feng exhaled. “Don't let them break it. It'll explode and could cause the entire cave system to collapse on us.”

A muttered curse echoed from deeper in the cavern. That same voice erupted from the back once more.

“Which one of you brain-dead bastards threw that? Are you trying to kill us all?!"

Jian Feng’s gaze snapped to Tianyi and Windy. The two spirit beasts splattered with blood continued to radiate a sharp readiness. Their presence alone was overwhelming. In the open, they’d be untouchable.

But this wasn’t open terrain.

They were in someone else's den.

“Clear the path,” he said firmly. “I’ll take care of their leader.”

Tianyi didn’t argue. Windy gave a low hiss, flicked his tail, and surged ahead like an arrow let loose.

The tunnel, once meant to strangle intruders, had turned on its creators. The narrow corridor forced the bandits into a single funnel, and they could do nothing against the blur of motion and death tearing through their ranks.

Windy darted through legs, under blades, and between openings no one could see. His tail whipped behind him, knocking weapons free. When he bit, he paralyzed. When he coiled, bones snapped.

Tianyi blurred past overhead, her feet touching wall, ceiling, floor, never still. She struck with elbow and palm, like a dancer with blades for limbs. A spin, a leap, a hammering blow to the jaw, and down went another bandit.

Cries rose. Fear overtook coordination.

They weren't fighting back anymore. They were trying to survive.

Jian Feng surged forward between them, weaving through the mess of bodies. He parried a wild swing without looking, ducked a flailing spear, sidestepped a desperate tackle.

The bandits no longer formed a wall. They were cracks in a dying dam.

He spotted him.

At the far end of the chamber, backed against a roughly carved dais of stone, stood a thickset man with a brutal face and twitching eyes. Greasy hair tied in a haphazard knot, lips pressed thin, one hand clutching a short club, the other hovering behind a waist sash heavy with small vials.

Jian Feng didn’t hesitate.

He leapt over the last crouching bandit and drew his sword in a single breath.

A clean arc.

Polished steel singing through the air.