ONE HOUR EARLIER

  Three figures stood before a winding path of vines. One looked upright and full of strength. The second was blood-stained and weary. The third—a teenage boy—looked like he'd just crawled out of a battlefield. His clothes were tattered, his skin bruised, and his hair a knotted mess, like a beggar who'd been kicked out of the heavens.

  "Are you sure Jin Yu is in there?" Chen Haoran asked, his voice edged with doubt as he stared at the thorn-covered path. The round tunnel of vines twisted into darkness like the throat of a beast. In the middle, glowing green thorns pulsed faintly, like poison warning intruders to stay away.

  Haozi stepped beside him. His eyes still held the traces of morning fear, but something had shifted. Determination gleamed in them now and he looked like he'd matured in a matter of hours.

  Shen gave no reply. He simply stepped forward, drew his blood-stained sword with a sharp shing, and slashed through the glowing thorns. The vines fell apart like paper before him. Unbothered, he marched forward, slicing through every barrier that dared block his path.

  The other two followed, careful to avoid the thorn tips still gleaming ominously.

  Minutes passed before the forest opened up,but peace was not what welcomed them.

  A group of more than twenty adult elves stood ahead, their cold stares sharper than the thorns. Vines coiled around their feet, ready to spring like serpents. At the center stood a red-haired woman, her pupils just as crimson as her hair—narrowed and unblinking like a predator sizing up its prey. Though her gaze remained fierce, it faltered when it met Shen’s. The pressure he emitted—Transcendent Realm—made the very air shiver.

  "Filthy humans," she spat. "What do you want?"

  Shen stopped a few feet away, his voice calm and cold. "Bring out the human boy."

  Her smirk twisted into something cruel. "Even if he’s still crawling, he’d be in hell by now."

  Shen didn’t flinch. His tone remained unchanged. “Bring. Him. Out.”

  "I said he’s dead! Deaf beast, turn around before—"

  "You’d better watch your mouth!" Chen Haoran snapped. "If you want war, keep running it. Or bring our brat out now before I wipe your damn clan off this forest!"

  Hisssss!

  The elves recoiled in rage. Vines twisted violently around them, sensing their fury.

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  “Stop this foolishness and hand over young master now!” Haozi added, yanking his own hair in frustration.

  For a breath, the air was still.

  Then.....

  Swish!

  The vines launched forward,and a fight exploded into motion.

  Shen moved first.

  Like a ghost, he vanished from sight and reappeared in the center of the elves’ formation. A single slice of his blade cut three vines mid-air. Before they hit the ground, he spun and parried another barrage, his sword a blur of crimson light.

  An elf lunged at him from behind. Shen didn’t turn—he simply pivoted, slammed his elbow into the attacker’s chest, and sent him flying into a tree.

  Another wave of vines surged from both sides. Shen raised one palm, his aura flaring. The vines that touched his body withered instantly.

  He surged forward like a thunderclap, cutting down attackers left and right, showing no hesitation and no mercy.

  The red-haired woman, along with the elves that Shen had tossed aside earlier, staggered to their feet. Blood stained their clothes and faces, but their eyes still burned with fury.

  Without a word, they raised their hands and began weaving a technique—the Mist. Their fingers moved like spirits, drawing symbols in the air so quickly they blurred.

  Chen Haoran’s eyes narrowed. He instantly pulled out three short knives hidden beneath his robe and hurled them toward the casters. The blades sliced through the air with precision, forcing the elves to break formation as they dodged. Their focus shattered.

  Without pause, Chen drew his sword and lunged at them.

  Haozi, not wanting to be left behind, unsheathed his own blade and charged toward the elves Shen had battered earlier.

  The clash was messy—brutal. Chen’s swordsmanship was fluid and fierce, while Haozi swung with wild strength and frustration. The elves fought back with desperation, but their bodies were already damaged. They stood no chance.

  Meanwhile, Shen moved like death itself.

  His sword danced in the air like a phantom, cutting through resistance with surgical precision. He didn’t need to shout. He didn’t need to threaten. Pain and fear did all the talking.

  Cries echoed through the trees—grunts, shouts, groans.

  And then... silence.

  The red-haired woman stood alone, panting heavily. Blood trickled from her lips. Her blade had been knocked away at some point—she didn’t even know when.

  Shen stood before her, calm as ever, his blood-stained sword resting gently against her neck.

  “Last chance,” he said. His voice was soft. Too soft. “Bring him out.”

  She looked around. Her people were strewn across the ground, wounded but alive, moaning as they clutched broken limbs and bleeding wounds.

  No one had died.

  That was mercy.

  She gritted her teeth, but said nothing. Her eyes, once full of fire, dimmed with reluctant submission.

  Shen sheathed his sword and stepped aside, his unreadable eyes never leaving her.

  Wordlessly, the red-haired woman knelt beside her wounded clansmen, healing those who had bled the most. The rest slowly got to their feet, faces flushed with humiliation and rage. They glared at the humans—but the humans didn’t even glance at them.

  Defeated, the elves began walking. Shen, Chen Haoran, and Haozi followed.

  But it didn’t take long for the two men to realize something was off.

  “Wait,” Chen Haoran said, his eyes narrowing. “We’re not blind. That’s not the way to your home.”

  “Yeah,” Haozi added. “You’re taking us the wrong way.”

  The red-haired woman didn’t even turn around. “If you know where he is,” she snapped, “why bother me? Shut up and follow.”

  Her words lit a fire in Chen Haoran. “Death awaits you if you dare play tricks,” he warned coldly.

  “Exactly,” Haozi snarled. “We’ll burn this forest down.”

  The woman didn’t respond. She walked on, her spine stiff with pride and silent resentment.

  For an hour, they followed her through the winding trees, none of them saying another word. The deeper they went, the more silent the forest became—like even the birds didn’t dare make a sound.

  Then, suddenly, the trees opened up into a wide clearing.

  And what they saw stopped them in their tracks—even Shen’s calm expression flickered.

  The clearing was soaked in blood.

  Corpses of beastmen lay scattered in heaps, their once-mighty bodies torn apart—clawed open, crushed, sliced down to the bone. Limbs twisted at unnatural angles, and thick, copper-scented steam still rose from their wounds.

  Weapons shattered. Armor ripped apart like paper.

  The entire place reeked of death.

  In the center of the massacre lay Jin Yu,blood drenched, his life and death unknown.

  Eldora and her clansmen stood far behind, staring with pale faces. Fear radiated from them like mist and their posture looked like they'll attack him at any slight movement.

  Shen’s expression turned cold and killing intent surged out from him like tidal wave