The cave was barely more than a hollow carved into the base of an ancient tree, its gnarled roots curling overhead like the grasping fingers of some slumbering beast. The Black Hollow Forest loomed outside, a restless abyss of twisted branches and shifting shadows. Within, the air was damp and heavy, but it was quiet, a temporary sanctuary from the bloodshed and chaos they had left behind. A fragile calm settled, draping itself over Tao and Jian like the hush after a storm. Their bodies bore the weight of battle, wounds hastily tended, breaths still uneven, as they sat in the dim glow of their temporary refuge, each lost in the echoes of their relentless journey.

  Tao sat cross legged beside a feeble fire, its flickering amber light waging a desperate war against the oppressive darkness. The flames danced in his weary eyes, reflecting not just the fire’s restless movement but the torrent of thoughts that raged within him. Fatigue hung over him like a heavy cloak, yet beneath it, a quiet resolve burned just as fiercely. His mind drifted through the web of trials endured and the razor thin line between survival and oblivion they had walked, each memory another ember in the inferno of his determination.

  Across from him, Jian slumped against the rough stone wall, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. The scent of medicinal herbs lingered between them, a faint reminder of the healing pills they had just consumed.

  Jian exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand through his dishevelled hair. “It keeps happening,” he muttered, his voice low, almost bitter. “Every step we take, every battle we fight, we barely make it out alive. It’s like we’re always a breath away from being buried in the dirt.”

  Tao didn’t answer immediately. His fingers tapped idly against his knee, his mind tracing the events that had led them here. The ashen robbed cultivators, the inheritance hall, the cultivators that discovered them obtaining the inheritance, the portal swallowing them just in time. They had survived, but survival alone was not enough.

  Jian scoffed softly, shaking his head. “We’re too weak.”

  Tao’s gaze shifted to him. “We are,” he admitted. “But we’re getting stronger.”

  Jian let out a humourless laugh. “Not fast enough.” He tilted his head back against the stone, eyes narrowing. “I need to break through to the fifth layer of Qi Refining as soon as possible. If I had been just a little stronger back there, maybe we wouldn’t have had to flee so desperately.”

  Tao regarded him carefully before nodding. “Then focus on breaking through. But don’t push past the fifth layer.”

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  Jian frowned. “What?”

  Tao sighed, rubbing his temples. “You know why. That cultivation manual you took from the Iron Tower Sect goes all the way to the 9th layer. If you advance beyond the 5th layer without obtaining the latter part of the Verdant Dawn Sect’s official technique, you’ll raise suspicion.”

  Jian was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening.

  Tao continued, his voice calm but firm. “If the elders find out, they’ll start asking questions. And if they figure out what you’ve been practicing…”

  Jian let out a slow breath, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I know,” he muttered. “I know. But the sect’s cultivation method is slow. Too slow.”

  Tao looked away, staring into the darkness beyond the cave’s entrance. “That’s because only core members have the complete manual. Without the second half, your progress will stall eventually.”

  Jian’s expression darkened. “I have advanced faster in my cultivation in the Wilds than those years spent in the sect.”

  Tao didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. They both knew it was true.

  Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across the cave walls, distorting their figures into something half real, half nightmare.

  Jian ran a hand down his face, his exhaustion evident. “Tao… do you ever think about leaving the sect?”

  Tao’s fingers stilled. His expression didn’t change, but Jian caught the way his shoulders tensed, the brief flicker of calculation in his eyes.

  Jian leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter now. “Look at what we’ve achieved since entering the Wilds. We’ve grown more in these past days than we have in the years we spent under the sect’s rules. What’s keeping us there?”

  Tao studied him for a long moment before answering. “Stability.”

  Jian scoffed. “Stability?”

  Tao nodded. “Leaving is possible, but not yet. We’re not strong enough to survive as rogue cultivators. Right now, the sect gives us protection. Without it, we’re just two loose cultivators wandering the world with treasures others would kill for.”

  Jian frowned, his fingers curling against his knee. “So what? We just bide our time? Keep playing by their rules until we’re strong enough?”

  Tao’s gaze was steady. “Yes.”

  Jian looked away, frustration clear in the set of his jaw, but he didn’t argue. Deep down, he knew Tao was right. The Wilds had given them a taste of what true strength meant, but it had also shown them how fragile their lives were in the face of those stronger than them.

  For now, they had no choice but to endure.

  Jian let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand over his face before glancing at Tao. “We have treasures others would kill for. What do we do next?”

  Tao didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his storage ring, fingers brushing against the jade slips, the herbs, the furnace, all the spoils they had risked their lives for. His grip tightened.

  Outside, the forest murmured with unseen movements, the mist shifting like restless spirits drawn to their presence. It was time to decide what came next.

  Tao exhaled, his gaze sharpening. “We take stock of what we have. Then we decide how to use it.”