Fu Ran jolted awake with a sharp gasp, desperately struggling to catch his breath. The air seemed to flow into his lungs at a frustratingly slow pace, prolonging the discomfort. He hated these abrupt awakenings, as they always left him shaken from the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the feeling of mental death. His body responded the same way every single time, reacting to the adrenaline surge with a flurry of tremors and ragged breaths.

He curled in on his own body, and held on tightly to his blade. He ignored the pains when it slightly dug into his robes, and in turn, his pale white skin. Shi Wei Ji left strings of red marks on his body whenever he slightly changed position in this panicked state. He was not aware enough of the proximity between his Shixiong and himself. Zhi Lao was too close to him, and ended up getting shoved away. For a few moments, Fu Ran’s mind had painted the illusion that his Shixiong had become a beast! Zhi Lao looked no different than the demon he had just fought. Fu Ran’s martial brother’s expression was full of rage, but that had quickly turned to pity.

“We need to return home. I knew the demon realm would bring nothing but trouble!” Fu Ran stumbled up to a messy standing position, causing Zhi Lao to have to support him by the shoulder.

“What did you see?” Zhi Lao asked, worried building in his tone.

In response, Fu Ran’s voice shook hastily and he enunciated each word with a bite of annoyance. “What do I always see? Nothing other than doom!” Fu Ran had already started to make his way back towards the entrance where they arrived. The array should still be here.

He stomped his feet until that familiar hand drawn circle could be seen a ways away. Fu Ran felt absolute mental agony set in as he moved closer. In the mess of these thin, hand drawn lines of the array, there was a straight and clean line preventing these marks from touching each other properly. It very clearly had been slashed through with a blade. I understand… This was not just a bad turn of events, then. This was intentional. I need to find Shesui Lang quickly. And ask him to redraw the array. Perhaps if we act now, the little ones can be safe from the scene in my mind.

Zhi Lao was seeing this for the first time as well, and his eyes widened. “Damaged? How did that occur?”

“I don’t know Zhi Shixiong…. Can you, the one who had his eyes open, tell me how it happened?”

“...” Zhi Lao did not answer.

Since Fu Ran didn’t get the response he sought, he stepped away from Zhi Lao and sighed. He scanned the area, checking all surroundings. The other Peak Master’s must have already vanished in the time he took to learn from his foresight. In his vision, he saw no disciples either, and they must have long since begun their entrance exam. He took off in a run, Zhi Lao following after him.

Winding pathways didn’t match up with the one from his mind. His dream must have occurred much further in. But soon, he saw a vague familiar sight. The two cultivators had come across a small encampment. That might have been too generous of a description. In reality it was just a shoddily thrown together tent over some of the branches, with boxes of two days worth of supplies beneath it. Fu Ran remembered that it was absent from his dream state, and must have suffered a terrible fate. But being so bare bones, It didn’t look much different right now.

The tent had been placed on the edge of a drop off, and there were taller mountains closing in on this path to the south. Feng Meiying, one of the beauties of An Xian Yun Peak, was already idly sitting under the tent. Her bright red hanfu was eye-catching and it was detailed with pretty flowers of gold. She let a long thin pipe sway between her fingers. She was rarely seen actually smoking it.

Playfully, and with a teasing tone, Feng Meiying said, “You are all masters, but do you even know that demonic rain can instantly rust metals it touches, and rot meats and food supplies? It doesn’t rain often here, but when it does: It is hell.” Feng Meiying sighed as she looked at the other cultivators present. “And yet, you all come unprepared for a mission that will last two days! Really, it was unheard of. With the prep work left to me, only I get to enjoy it.”

“Feng Shigu, you may be the one with the most cultivation experience here, but do try to not be so obvious with your condescending tone.” Shesui Lang’s lips twitched while trying to maintain his chipper speaking tone. Tensions seemed a little higher than usual, but there were reasons why the Peak Master’s of An Xian Yun Peak preferred working alone.

“We are some of the highest grade cultivators, do we even need comforts such as tents?” mocked a Peak Master in white.

Feng Meiying seemed so easily offended at this and barked back in a strict tone. “So you don’t need food, Master He? When had you cultivated yourself to such a degree? It is news to me.”

Master He grew quiet.

Fu Ran’s heavy breathing and panicked steps chased after the sound of bickering. “Shesui Shixiong! You need to make another array,” he pleaded, mid run.

Shesui Lang stiffened at hearing the desperate cry of his name. “And what could possibly be wrong with the last one?” His response was harsh like always, but the other masters turned to look at Fu Ran. Those that wished to not peer at the fortune teller instead looked behind him at Zhi Lao.

Feng Meiying spoke, she let the hand holding her pipe gently fall from her lips, leaving a thin trail of white smoke following the source. “Zhi Lao, what happened?” Zhi Lao locked eyes with Fu Ran and gave him a tap on the back of his shoulder. This small action was invisible to those standing in front of them. Fu Ran knew that was his signal for: talk. Those angry eyes made sense since he hadn’t taken the time to properly explain.

Fu Ran pulled out his silver sword and held it up to the masters.

“Shi Wei Ji has spoken.

“There will befall a disaster here should we not leave. Maybe even if we do leave…

“When I had awakened from using my Calamity Recall, I still found myself in the same area as we are right now: The demon realm. I sadly awoke late into the events to transpire, so I do not know when or how they occurred. But many of the Masters here were fighting demonic entities of almost equal level. And I will say... we weren't all faring so well.” With this many of the cultivators were shocked, though some still showed expression of discontent at his words. “I know this to be true, because I believe we have been set up!”

Sudden chatter erupted from the more nervous or easily panicked Peak Masters. Fu Ran barely even knew some of these Peak Master’s by name, as they joined more recently, so the yelling was near overwhelming.

“Why are we even listening to the Master of Calamity?” asked a messy male master.

“Hah, master of what? Fu Ran is barely a master of anything at all! He is no more than Yi Yang’s pretty little project!” A new male voice yelled next.

Feng Meiying shut that previous line of conversation up rather quickly with a voice beyond threatening. “Jie Baihu, that is more than enough!”

“Set up? But the one who set up this mission was the Peak Elder, Yi Yang.” A particularly loud master had whined out and stood up from his spot under the tree. “Or perhaps you mean… one of...us?”

“Are you blaming one of us?” A nervous master with glasses looked at Fu Ran now with a heat of flame in his eyes.

When the line of conversation came back to him, Fu Ran raised his hands in panic. He didn’t even know who was talking, with the voices all overlapping. Fu Ran wailed, “No! Nonsense! When did I say anything like that?” Fu Ran quickly defended his words. “I mentioned it only because our array had been intentionally damaged! It seemed to have been slashed through with a blade.”

“Enough! Please quiet the arguing!” Feng Meiying used her seniority over most of the masters to let her voice be heard. She took another breath of her pipe. With her face darkening, her lips made a small opening and a long puff of smoke escaped. When she turned back to Fu Ran, his flustered expression was met with calmness. Speaking quietly now, Feng Meiying asked, “Fu Ran, you are not insinuating it to be one of us, but do you think it truly possible?”

Her words didn’t help the atmosphere at all. In fact it grew only worse. The only thing it aided, was bringing quiet to this camp. He felt that Shi Wei Ji could cut a slice from the tension. Fu Ran could barely get the words out though his hands’ shivering. “Yes, Feng Meiying,” he stuttered. Her scarlet eyes shone with thought, and she lightly tucked a strand of raven hair behind her ear with the rest of those long straight locks. Fu Ran continued his worry stricken words. “But rather than suspecting one another. We should just return home! Promptly!”

“Hah, of course,” Jie Baihu rolled his eyes and scoffed, before receiving Feng Meiying’s punishing elbow to his chest.

Stepping in front of Fu Ran and Zhi Lao, Shesui Lang crossed his arms and said, “It won't be immediate. But I can prepare a new array. The previous one was a work in progress over the last few days, and I merely put the last amount of work into it before we left today.” Shesui Lang spoke in his matter of fact tone, before he cut a pair of cold eyes at the rest of the Peak Masters. “Since it drains so much qi, and there are quite a few of us here, I will request shares from all of you.” He scoffed. Shesui Lang clearly wore a look of disappointment directed at his fellow cultivators.

No one would be denying him that request.

After the affirmative silence, his face slipped into that false smile. “That should help ease the burden on myself,” Shesui Lang said, giving everyone a few moments to take in the new orders before continuing, “-and when we return home: Not a soul will leave the Xing Xing Pavilion Entrance Hall. Should anyone leave before the rest of us in secret, well that is awfully suspicious, isn’t it? No one should want to be deemed a traitor, correct?” When he spoke, his words were nearly playful, but they were laced in threat.

Most people here believed that Shesui Lang had the closest relationship with the Sect Elder Yi Yang, other than Feng Meiying. So his words had some weight to them. They weren’t to be ignored recklessly. In situations where an emergency like this had presented itself, Shesui Lang had every ounce of power to pull the shots as if he were the Acting Peak Elder himself.

Fu Ran raised his head and interrupted the group of cultivators now sharing glaces with one another. “We should call the disciples ba-”

“We can’t do that.” Feng Meiying had quickly interrupted Fu Ran. “Peak Elder Yi Yang has already chosen. There is no face left to save if we return within minutes of entering the demon realm. Besides, what would such cowardice acts say about An Xian Yun Peak? The disciples of this year should complete it. If they return home with no experience gained, then there is a good chance that Yi Yang will forbid all disciples from joining this year. That is unheard of.” Feng Meiying was clear on her stance, and she wasn’t one to change her mind on a whim. When decisions were made, she was the first to abide by them. Especially since her martial brother became the Peak Elder.

Unheard of my ass! I didn’t take a single one over the last three years, and I am still here. I would much rather them all fail this year, than die trying to get into a sect. Fu Ran wracked his brain trying to understand the motivations of a man he thought he understood more than anyone here. His brows furrowed. This isn’t what Shizun would want either, Yi Shibo.

Fu Ran felt his jaw tighten in annoyance, but he held his tongue.

A few of the masters here had started speaking in small groups. It seemed like each one had different ideas on how to handle the unknown crisis. Knowing what was to come could potentially save dozens of lives, but only half of the Peak Masters present seemed to listen to his words truthfully.

Fu Ran also couldn’t remove the last part of his dream from his head. Who called to him? His heart rate spiked when he remembered the title, “Your Highness.”

***