Blossoming Path-Chapter 186: Blood In The Thickets

Deep, jagged claw wounds tore through its shoulder, exposing raw flesh and bone. It was missing the right ear, and clearly on death's door.

The sight was sickeningly familiar, an echo of the Iron Boar and Black Tiger corpses. Wounds that hadn't been made by a natural predator.

My pulse quickened.

I opened my mouth to call for Jian Feng—

Goosebumps prickled my skin. A sudden, sharp dread seized me, cold and suffocating.

Move.

I didn’t hesitate. Instinct overrode thought as I pushed off the ledge, dropping down just as something—someone—sliced through the air where I had been standing moments before.

I hit the ground hard, creating a small crater where I landed before snapping my head up.

A pale, hooded figure loomed where I had stood moments before. His tattered robes hung loosely over a skeletal frame, his skin so pallid and thin it seemed nearly translucent beneath the dappled sunlight. His outstretched hand, frail and thin as though it'd snap in a strong breeze, was buried deep into the cliffside—right where my neck should have been.

Cold eyes met mine.

Demonic cultivator.

My heart pounded as I backpedaled, forcing myself to keep my breathing steady.

"Jian Feng! Tianyi!" My voice cut through the trees as I retreated, opening my satchel to throw the vials for emergency signals.

Then, with unnatural speed, he lunged.

I twisted sharply, forcing my body into a sideways roll as his strike carved through the space I had occupied. My unclasped satchel fell to the floor, the strap destroyed, blackened where it was cut. I cursed. It'd take time for them to converge on my location without the emergency signal; and I needed every second I could get.

I couldn’t afford to take a hit. Not even one. Windy’s injuries, Tianyi’s account of her battle, the festering corruption that had nearly consumed them both—a single strike would be lethal.

"Shit!" I ducked under another strike. Each was made with the intent to kill.

He was faster than me. That was the worst part. Even with qi reinforcing my muscles, his speed was greater. My instincts screamed at me to flee, but with him closing the distance so effortlessly, escape wasn’t an option.

Instead, I kept a wide berth, making erratic movements, never giving him a straight path toward me. It was ugly. Unrefined. Unlike any other battle or spar I've had, where I could properly test my techniques, gauge my opponent, and adapt my approach. Here, there was no room for that. No space for drawn-out exchanges, for clever counters or refined stances.

This wasn’t a fight. This was survival.

My feet pounded the earth as I maneuvered backward, ducking low, rolling when necessary, staying out of his immediate striking range. The slightest misstep would mean my death.

Still, he pressed forward, a specter of inevitability.

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The terrain worked against me. A rocky outcrop jutted out behind me, narrowing my available space. I'd unknowingly backed myself into a corner.

His hand lifted, fingers curled in a claw-like shape, aiming for my chest.

My back hit the cliffside.

Trapped.

I had an instant to react. I couldn't block. I couldn't parry. If I tried to counter, I'd be dead before my strike landed.

His hand shot forward, an execution more than an attack. My mind screamed through every possibility, every technique, every scrap of knowledge I had, and came to one conclusion.

I planted myself in my most practiced technique.

ROOTED BANYAN STANCE!

The moment his strike shot forward, my entire body tensed, feet sinking into the ground, my core tightening like iron bands. But I left it imperfect; my right hand extended directly in the path of his attack.

My fist connected with his elbow just as his attacking arm was extending, the claw within moments of reaching my heart.

"AHHHHHH!"

The impact, focused and powerful, violently redirected the trajectory of his attack. It became a glancing blow. Instead of piercing my chest, the claw ripped through my left shoulder, the force of the redirected momentum still carrying it through. A searing burn ripping through me. A sharp, wet crack sounded as flesh and muscle gave way beneath his unnatural strength.

But—I was still alive.

The pain barely had time to register before a worse sensation took hold.

A deep, festering cold.

It seeped from the wound outward, spreading like ink through water. My qi buckled immediately, the flow disrupted as the corruption wormed its way in.

Demonic qi.

Agony lanced through my body as it burrowed into my veins, clawing its way deeper with every heartbeat. It was unlike any pain I had ever felt—cold, festering, like something foreign was gnawing at my very essence. My breath hitched as my vision blurred for a split second.

No.

I forced my mind to steady. My left arm was useless, but I still had one good hand.

With a roar, I activated the Heavenly Flame Mantra to its fullest. The air shimmered as raw heat surged through me, igniting at my palm with a brilliant red-white blaze. My skin cracked under the sheer intensity, the pain of my burning flesh mixing with the corruption’s invasive chill—but I didn’t hesitate.

I slammed my flaming hand onto his face.

Flesh sizzled.

For an instant, I thought it worked. The fire consumed him, searing through skin, the flames flaring brighter as I poured every last ounce of qi I had left into the attack. It burned so hot that my own skin blackened, my own nerves screamed—but I refused to let go.

Then I saw his eyes.

Not a flicker of pain. No screaming, no frantic attempt to claw my arm away. He just… stared. His deadened pupils locked onto mine through the haze of fire, his expression eerily still, as if my attempt to incinerate him was nothing more than an inconvenience.

My stomach twisted.

The fire should have blinded him. The heat alone should have sent him writhing in agony. And yet, despite the flesh peeling from his face, despite the charred, blistering skin, he was still moving.

His free hand rose.

I felt it before I saw it. The oppressive weight of pure killing intent.

I was going to die.

The certainty settled in, cold and absolute. There was no more room to dodge, no more time to counter. His hand, wreathed in the same sickeningly dense demonic qi that had nearly killed my companions, hovered mere inches from my throat. The moment it touched me—

A blur of motion.

Then a deafening CRACK!

The next thing I knew, the shadow's body hurtled sideways, crashing into a tree with bone-snapping force. Bark splintered from the impact, debris scattering as the entire trunk shuddered violently, dropping snow from it's branches in a resounding crash.

I gasped, stumbling forward, barely able to process what had just happened.

Tianyi hovered above, her wings flaring out as she adjusted her posture mid-air.

She had drop-kicked him. From the sky.

She landed gracefully a few feet in front of me, her antennae twitching as she studied the fallen figure with sharp, unreadable eyes.

My body was trembling, my burned hand barely responding, my left arm a mangled mess. The demonic qi in my wound throbbed, the corruption settling deeper, but I forced it aside. I wasn’t dead.

My gaze darted to the tree Tianyi had sent him crashing into.

The bald man peeled himself off the bark, his neck cracking as he tilted his head unnaturally to the side. Smoke still curled from the raw, blackened burns across his face, but his expression was eerily calm, as if pain was a foreign concept to him. His empty, sunken eyes flicked between Tianyi and me, taking in the new development with unnerving patience.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to steady my breathing. My arm was ruined, and the demonic qi was spreading. If I didn’t purge it soon, it would begin to eat away at my body. But there was no time.

“Tianyi—” I coughed, my voice hoarse. “We need to—”

“Heal yourself,” she interrupted, never once taking her eyes off the man. “I’ll handle him.”

Her confidence was absolute, but I knew better than to let that lull me into a false sense of security.

Still, I had no choice. Right now, I was more of a liability than an asset.

I gritted my teeth and pushed off the ground, dragging myself toward my fallen satchel. My breath came in short gasps, each movement a battle against the spreading corruption. Behind me, I heard the telltale snap of air displacement—a battle beginning.

Tianyi moved first. The bald man barely managed to twist in time to deflect her blow, his sleeve tearing from the force. But Tianyi didn’t relent. She moved like a storm—every motion precise, every strike lethal. Her wings blurred as she attacked from impossible angles, pressing him back with relentless ferocity.

He tried to counter, his fingers laced with that sickening, festering qi, but she was too fast. A swipe of her wing—razor-sharp—tore a deep gash through his arm. For the first time, he faltered.

I didn’t waste the opportunity. My fingers closed around my satchel, yanking it open with my good hand. My movements were clumsy, rushed, but I managed to pull free a vial of Essence Purifying Elixir. With shaking hands, I uncorked it and poured the entire thing over my wound.

Relief was immediate.

The burning, gnawing corruption fizzled as the purifying liquid seeped into my flesh, sending a cleansing heat through my veins. I gasped as the demonic qi was forcibly expelled, leaving behind only the raw, exposed wound and the pulsing ache of overused muscles. The pain was excruciating, but bearable.

I forced myself to focus, assessing the damage. Even with my imperfect execution of Rooted Banyan Stance, the bald man’s attack had nearly punctured straight through my shoulder. If I had miscalculated even slightly, I wouldn’t be breathing right now.

My hands trembled as I reached for gauze, but my fingers fumbled. The adrenaline, the lingering effects of the corruption—it was all catching up to me. The gauze slipped from my grasp, falling into the snow.

Before I could reach for it, a voice cut through the clearing.

“Kai!”

Jian Feng.

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I turned my head just in time to see him emerging from the trees, his sword drawn, his expression a mixture of fury and control. The other Verdant Lotus disciples weren’t far behind.

“Cover him!” Jian Feng barked, and one of the disciples immediately dropped beside me, reaching for my wound with practiced efficiency. I barely had time to process it before movement in my peripheral caught my attention.

Windy.

He struck with terrifying speed, launching himself at the bald man’s torso, fangs bared and tail lashing. At the same time, Tianyi shot forward, her wings leaving a streak of pale blue light as she aimed for the throat.

The bald man moved.

His body twisted unnaturally, dodging Windy’s bite, but Tianyi’s strike forced him to take a step back. Then another.

The entire scouting team had arrived. He was outnumbered.

For the first time since the fight began, he paused.

Jian Feng took a measured step forward, his sword raised. “Stand down.” His voice was cold, authoritative.

Then, slowly, his lips curled.

Not in pain. Not in fear.

In rage.

It twisted his burned face into something inhuman, veins bulging beneath the raw, peeling flesh. His expression stretched, distorting into a grotesque grimace, as if his very skin struggled to contain the fury beneath. His eyes, sunken yet alight with something primal, burned with an intensity that sent a visceral shudder down my spine. The air thickened, charged with a silent, suffocating malice, as if the mere force of his hatred alone could strangle the life from the clearing.

But he didn’t lash out. He didn’t scream.

He simply turned.

With a single push off the ground, he vanished.

Snow exploded in his wake, his form disappearing into the depths of the forest in the span of a heartbeat.

Tianyi tensed, wings twitching as she prepared to give chase.

“Stop,” Jian Feng commanded sharply.

She turned to him, eyes blazing. “We can’t let him go—”

“We need to treat Kai.”

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself upright despite the searing pain in my shoulder. "No. We can't let him go."

Jian Feng's eyes snapped to me. "Kai, you're injured. This isn't the time—"

"And when will be?" I shot back, breath ragged but firm. "When he comes back and slaughters the next scouting team? When he finds the village? We lose him now, we may never get another chance."

Tianyi's wings twitched, her gaze flicking between me and the trees where the demonic cultivator had vanished. Windy coiled tightly beside her, his muscles tense, ready to strike again.

The disciples hesitated. They were disciplined, but I could see the flicker of doubt in their eyes. The rational choice was to regroup, to fall back, to ensure I was safe. Every instinct screamed at me to do the same. My body ached, my wounds burned, and my fingers trembled from both the pain and the lingering terror.

But even as fear coiled around my ribs like a vice, suffocating and relentless, another thought eclipsed it.

The thought of Gentle Wind Village encountering that monster.

I clenched my fists to stop the trembling, nails biting into my palms. My breath came sharp, uneven, but I forced my voice to steady. "I'm not saying we chase blindly," I said, swallowing against the dryness in my throat. "But we can't just let him slip away. We need to at least track him."

Jian Feng studied me, his jaw tightening. A long silence stretched between us.