The sandstorm hit just as they reached the oasis. As they drew near, the winds picked up like the storms down south, but scorching hot and dry rather than pleasantly cool and humid. The foliage around the oasis itself shook in the increasingly violent wind, but held firm. The thick bark of the date palms endured the winds and sand well.

  Under the full fury of the storm, they had to shelter in the lee of a rock. They huddled together, seeking what scant refuge they could find from the razor-sharp cloud of sand driven by a wind the likes of which He Yu could only hope to one day summon. The storm was like Tan Xiaoling’s technique, only more. More wind, more razor shards, and more darkness.

  He Yu’s qi sense was useless within. He only sensed the metal and wind and earth of the storm itself when he opened his spiritual sight. The oasis had all but vanished, and the life qi of the hardy plants clustered around it was merely a memory in the howling darkness of the sandstorm. He didn’t bother with the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment. There was little truth the technique could show him that wasn’t already obvious.

  Thousands of razor shards ripped into any exposed flesh. Wormed their way into robes, cutting into otherwise protected skin. If the qi He Yu had needed to withstand Tan Xiaoling’s sandstorm was a constant trickle, this was more akin to a flood. The rock they’d sheltered behind seemed to do little, but it would surely be worse were they exposed. All they could do now was huddle in what tiny shelter they had. Take refuge, and hope the storm wore itself out before it wore them down.

  “This can’t be how we go,” Yan Shirong shouted over the gale. He spit out a mouthful of sand, then covered his face with his sleeve again.

  Next to him, Chen Fei placed a palm on the ground. A formation script flared to life around them, creating a barrier. Immediately, the barrier shone like daylight. “It won’t hold for long,” she said, eying her creation.

  “Even if it only holds for a few heartbeats, the respite is welcome enough.” Li Heng slumped down against the rock as he spoke.

  He Yu joined him. “Enough to heal up,” he said, looking at the hundreds of tiny cuts on the back of his hand as they closed.

  “We can’t stay out like this,” Chen Fei said. “Tan Xiaoling told me about these storms. The worst is still on its way. They can last for hours, and they’ll strip even Fourth and Fifth Realm cultivators down to bones by the time they pass.”

  That was the last thing He Yu wanted to hear. “Did she say how to endure them?”

  “Travelers usually carry sand tents made from thick hides and reinforced with formation scripts. They set them up when they see the storm’s approach, and take shelter inside. They’re not perfect, but it makes the storms survivable.”

  “I don’t suppose any of you have such a tent handy,” Yan Shirong said.

  Before anyone could answer him, Chen Fei’s barrier collapsed. The wind and sand rushed in, and they had to huddle down upon themselves while she created another formation.

  “How long can you keep that up for?” He Yu asked.

  “A long time,” she answered before giving an apologetic grin. “Not long enough, though. These storms can last for days.”

  “At least we don’t have to deal with the sun,” Li Heng said.

  There was that. The sky above was a dark ochre, nearly black. As dangerous as the sand was, it at least obscured the relentless sun above. He Yu couldn’t tell which he’d rather have dealt with. It was much the same in the end, once he thought about it. The sun sapped their strength as the desert itself bled away their life along with their qi. The sandstorm required they constantly spend their precious reserves healing the constant barrage of razor sand, lest they be stripped down to the bone in moments. Both led to the same place, their cultivation base eventually running dry, followed by death.

  “No wonder the Jade Kingdom produces such cultivators,” He Yu said after Chen Fei created a third barrier formation.

  “Dangerous as the White Desert is, the Jade Kingdom is worse,” Li Heng said. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Surely it can’t all be as bad as this.” He Yu couldn’t believe that an entire kingdom had taken root in a land that was supposedly less hospitable that the hellscape they found themselves in.

  “Settlements are roughly as you’d expect,” Yan Shirong said. “Warded by formations, and looked after by local experts. Some valleys are tranquil enough that hardy Third Realms can survive on their own. But generally speaking, if you’re not at least Golden Core, stay in the capital. The Tan family watches over Jade Mountain Citadel. It’s the only truly safe place in all the kingdom.”

  Li Renshu had told them to seek hardship. The implication was that in doing so, they’d eventually become strong enough to challenge Jin Xifeng herself. He’d told them to do so in the Jade Kingdom. It was little wonder Tan Xiaoling had already been such a monster when she arrived at the sect.

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  “When we make it to the mountains, just think of the training opportunity,” He Yu said without thinking.

  “Here we are, huddling behind a rock, hoping we won’t be ripped to shreds by a sandstorm, and he’s thinking of training,” Yan Shirong grumbled.

  “It’s half the reason he’s advanced so fast, you know,” Chen Fei said after forming another barrier.

  “Better than giving into despair,” Li Heng said.

  The conversation fell silent when a dark shape moved in the storm just outside the barrier. He Yu wasn’t the only one who’d seen it. The others shifted to more alert postures from their refuge behind the boulder. It could have simply been his imagination. With the constant howl of the wind and wall of sand, not to mention Chen Fei’s shining barrier, He Yu couldn’t see more than an arm’s length into the storm. Then another shape moved. Then another.

  He counted, at minimum, half a dozen of the shapes. All of them moving just outside the barrier. Just far enough beyond the edge that he couldn’t clearly make them out. They were more like phantoms in the swirling than creatures of flesh and blood. Whatever they were, they were smart. Awakened beasts, most likely. Creatures that came with the storm, hunted within it. He Yu shuddered at the thought. That such creatures could dwell within the violent eddies of wind and sand suggested they were nothing he wanted to encounter. Yet here they were.

  The attack came the instant Chen Fei’s barrier fell once more. Three of the creatures burst from the sand before she could react.

  They looked like a cross between a lizard and a great hound. Thick, dark brown scales covered their powerfully built bodies that resembled hunting dogs. Slender legs ended in curved, glinting claws that dug into the earth as they charged. Their heads bore elongated snouts like a serpent’s, with ridges of scales running over each slit-pupiled eye. Long, whip-like tails trailed behind them, ending in barbed spikes that reminded He Yu of a scorpion’s stinger.

  The first sand beast slammed into He Yu before he could finish standing. It easily possessed the strength of a Fourth Realm beast. Claws dug into his robes and flesh. He had to shove his forearm into the sand beast’s maw, leveraging it open before it sank teeth like daggers into his throat.

  He called the Bracing Wind, but the creature clung onto him, using some wind aspected technique of its own to shrug off the blast from its prey. Sand dug into the wounds the beast opened on him as he struggled in its grip. He wrestled his other arm free and tried to pry its jaws loose.

  An explosion of mountain qi pushed him into the packed earth and shattered the rock they’d sheltered behind. The sand beast’s head snapped to the side as it finally released its grip enough for He Yu to struggle free. The burst of power from Chen Fei’s punch had been enough to momentarily blast away the sandstorm from around them both, creating a tiny bubble of calm. As He Yu regained his feet, he took in his surroundings.

  Li Heng and Yan Shirong both fought with sand beasts. Just outside the rapidly collapsing bubble of calm, more sand beasts circled. Easily double He Yu’s first estimate. Sandstorm or no, desert or no, they’d little choice now. At least this was something he knew how to handle.

  His guandao fell into his hands as his presence expanded and clashed with the sandstorm howling all around them. The others joined in, creating a riot of aspects. Mountain, shadow, ice, and heaven—all swirling within the constant barrage of sand and wind from the storm itself. If the creatures had been aggressive before, they flew into a frenzy at the unrestrained spirits before them.

  Green acidic blood sprayed from a wound opened in one sand beast’s shoulder as Li Heng flashed away from his opponent. The sand beast turned to bring its front claws to bear, the barbed tail lashing behind it. He Yu slipped into the space, slamming a blade wrapped in wind and gleaming with heaven upon the distracted beast. The injured creature spun again, only for Chen Fei to fall upon it. Her punch blasted away the sandstorm once more, and the sand beast collapsed. Its hind legs spasmed even as it scrambled forward, still trying to attack despite its shattered spine.

  Nearby, Yan Shirong tried his best to avoid three of the creatures at once, while fending off two more. Without so much as a word between them, He Yu and the others attacked the sand beasts from behind. Yan Shirong’s expression was all the thanks He Yu needed. With the pressure taken off him, Yan Shirong faded back into the position where he was most effective. Half a hundred daggers gleamed in the dim light, held by as many caliginous strands of shadow. A barrage of poison tipped steel rained upon the sand beasts even as more shadows rose to bind them in place. He Yu and the others fell upon them. Lightning lit up the darkened storm. The cold silver glow of Li Heng’s family art flashed in the gloom. The sound of shattering rock accompanied each of Chen Fei’s crushing blows.

  Through it all, the beasts endured.

  The sand beasts were far tougher than they’d any right to be, even at their advancement. The weakest among them were early Fourth Realm, and the bulk of the creatures were in the late stage. Even He Yu and Li Heng took several vital strikes to finally still the creatures. And through it all, the sandstorm that had brought them continued to rage.

  Nearly a dozen of the creatures lay dead or dying around the oasis, but the pack still came. He Yu desperately wished the storm would let up, but it only worsened. The sand and wind still raged around them, and the constant drain on their qi was taking its toll. The sand beasts seemed wholly unaffected by the storm. Which probably explained why they hunted within it. Whether the beasts or the storm took them first, it was only a matter of time before each of them fell—either ripped open by tooth and claw, or scoured clean by the storm itself.

  He Yu did everything he could to keep himself clear of the storm. As he had during the tournament when facing Tan Xiaoling, he used his command of the wind to maintain a pocket around himself. While he was far stronger now, the natural sandstorm made Tan Xiaoling’s Third Realm technique look like a gentle breeze. Worse still, the winds only increased intensity as the fight dragged on, and the sand seemed only to cut deeper with each passing moment.

  Still, they fought. What other choice did they have? During a brief lull in the onslaught, He Yu took stock of his companions. Each looked ragged and worn out in their own way. Yan Shirong’s movements were slower, and the sand beasts occasionally ripped free of his shadows. Li Heng had taken a number of cuts that bled profusely, even as his jian glowed in the murky light. Chen Fei had fared the worst, her bare arms covered in blood and grime.

  Just as the storm seemed it couldn’t get any worse, a hulking shape padded out from the churning wall of the storm. A sand beast, twice again as large as the others, fixed its reptilian eyes on He Yu. Soundlessly it lunged, teeth and claws shining in the gloom.