In the thick riverside reeds that skirted the edge of the forbidden Black Forest, twelve-year-old Timo Yang crouched low, his wind-serpent hide coat blending into the swaying grass. Bow drawn, breath steady, eyes locked on his prey.

  “Wind Guide!”

  He loosed the arrow with a sharp whisper. It cut the air in a visible spiral of wind before burying itself clean through the heart of the elusive Wind Spirit Rabbit.

  “Yes!” Timo’s voice cracked with triumph. “Got it… there’s still hope for the Awakening!”

  He bolted across the creaking wooden bridge, heart hammering. Skidding to a stop beside the fallen creature, he watched thin threads of pure azure energy—Wind Spirit Essence—rise from its body like smoke.

  Timo yanked the Awakening Stone from his pouch. The runes carved into its surface flickered as they drank in the essence. Then—white light exploded from the stone in a blinding surge.

  FWOOSH!

  A vicious tearing sound split the air.

  Timo spun—and froze. A pitch-black fireball hung inches from his face, flames writhing like living shadows.

  “Black fire…?” His blood turned to ice. “A Evil Cultivator?!”

  Pure instinct sent him diving backward. In the scramble, the Awakening Stone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.

  Beasts in the Black Forest? Expected.

  A Evil Cultivator this deep in Watch Legion territory? Impossible.

  Hands shaking, Timo faced the cruel choice: grab the stone and risk everything, or run and survive. He gritted his teeth, drew on years of hard-trained Windbreather arts, and lunged—

  The stone shot past his fingertips, snatched mid-air by a figure in black robes who stepped out of the shadows as if the darkness itself had birthed him.

  “Hahaha!”

  A shrill, grating laugh echoed through the trees.

  “A Windbreather… and so young. What a rare find.” The cultivator’s voice dripped with greed. “You’ll make a fine offering to the Spirit Lord. Kneel, boy—your new master commands it.”

  His fingers clenched. The Awakening Stone shattered in his palm. The escaping white essence twisted into a spiral and vanished into his hand, devoured in an instant.

  Timo’s stomach dropped. Wind Spirit Essence surged beneath his feet; he spun to flee.

  “Run?”

  Black flames ignited on the cultivator’s fingertips. One fireball screamed past Timo’s ear. Two more followed in rapid succession.

  Timo tumbled, rolled, scrambled—helpless, cornered, a rabbit in truth now.

  “Timo! Are you out of your mind?! What are you doing in the Black Forest?!”

  A desperate shout cut through the chaos. A broad-shouldered teen in grey-brown initiate armor leaped from tree to tree, old goggles strapped across his forehead. His eyes locked on Timo in an instant.

  “Brother Fei!” Timo choked out. “Evil Cultivator!”

  “What—?!”

  Before Fei could finish, a black fireball slammed into the rotting bridge. Wood exploded into burning splinters.

  The robed figure hovered above the wreckage, cold eyes fixed on the exhausted boy below. With a sneer, he hurled another death-scented sphere straight at Timo.

  “Earth Element—RISE!”

  Fei roared, diving from the branches. He slammed both palms into the ground. With a thunderous CRUMPH, a thick stone wall erupted between Timo and the blast.

  The fireball struck. Sparks and scorched earth rained down.

  “Hmph. A Watch Legion pup.” The cultivator’s gaze raked over Fei’s armor; greed burned brighter than caution. “I’ll take your spirit root too. No one leaves here alive.”

  He flickered like a ghost, reappearing behind them mid-sentence. Black flames flared beneath his feet, cutting off escape.

  “Hey, old ghoul!” Fei shoved Timo behind him, voice steady despite the sweat beading on his brow. “That the best you’ve got?”

  “A mere Initiate dares bark at me?” The cultivator’s face twisted. Dark energy surged. His hands slashed the air, unleashing two jagged blades of black fire that screamed toward them.

  BANG! BANG!

  Fei threw up two earthen walls in desperation. They shattered like glass. He yanked Timo behind a boulder just as the blades carved smoking crosses into the earth. Residual heat cracked the rock behind them.

  “This is Watch Legion territory!” Fei shouted over the searing stone. “You won’t walk away from this—Evil Cultivators are hunted to the ends of the realm!”

  Cold sweat slid down his back. He knew he was outmatched. He just needed one opening—one chance for Timo to get clear.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The cultivator’s mad laughter rang out. “The Watch Legion? Dust beneath the Spirit Lord’s heel.” His aura flickered; his hover dipped slightly. Rage flashed in his eyes. Playtime was over.

  “Flame Domain!”

  A ring of black fire erupted around the boulder, racing inward like starving wolves. Grass and shrubs flash-ashed to nothing. The air warped with blistering heat.

  “Timo—go! Get help! NOW!”

  Fei poured everything into one final push. His palms slammed the earth. The ground beneath Timo buckled upward, forming a chain of rising stone platforms.

  Timo leaped, heart in his throat, bounding across the stepping stones as the ring of death closed below—

  He cleared the flames.And slammed into a wave of bone-chilling cold.

  Thick white fog swirled ahead. A second black-robed figure stepped silently from the mist—slender, pale hands wreathed in frost-blue energy.

  Black ice spears, thick as lances, exploded upward around her feet, flash-freezing everything they touched.

  A voice, cold and venomous, slid into Timo’s ear: “A little gift delivered right on time… Where do you think you’re running?”

  Fei’s face hardened. He spotted three bulging black sacks lying nearby. His blood ran colder than the ice.

  “The missing village children…”

  A week ago he’d taken the commission to find them. Everyone had blamed monsters.

  Now they had their answer.

  “Brother Fei, I’m sorry—” Timo’s voice cracked. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have come here!”

  “Shut that talk,” Fei growled low. “This is our land. They’re the ones who don’t belong.” He raised his voice toward the two cultivators. “Why the children? Answer me!”

  The fire cultivator smirked from behind them, power still terrifying even if slightly dimmed. He savored the despair like fine wine.

  “Enough talk!” the Ice Evil Cultivator snapped, her voice sharp as cracking ice. “They know too much. Kill the older one. The boy comes with us—an offering for the Celestial Master.”

  She stepped forward. Black ice spread beneath her feet like spilled ink, the air thickening with a cold that clawed straight into the bones.

  Fei’s mind raced. He needed seconds—anything to buy time. “So you’ve built an outpost deep in the Black Forest,” he called out, words tumbling fast. “And this ‘Celestial Master’ is your puppet-master. Hiding in a cursed place… but why would scum like you fear curses? You’re no better than the vengeful wraiths that haunt it—”

  “Insolent worm!” The Ice Evil Cultivator’s eyes blazed. She hated how he saw through the stalling. With a furious sweep of her hand, frozen leaves and branches shattered into the air, twisting into a storm of razor-sharp ice spikes. She hurled the deadly barrage straight at them.

  Behind them, the path was already swallowed by writhing black flames. The fire coiled, rising into a massive, hissing serpent of dark flame that scorched the earth as it slithered closer.

  Trapped between ice and fire, Fei’s jaw tightened. Survival was a desperate gamble. He’d bet everything.

  Timo—used to nothing more dangerous than hunting spirit beasts and basic drills—could only stare, wide-eyed and frozen, as elemental fury closed in.

  “EARTHEN PRISON—RISE!”

  Fei roared, pouring every drop of spirit power into his arms. The ground buckled violently, surging upward like a tidal wave of dirt and stone. In seconds it encased them in a thick, protective dome.

  THUD! THUD! THUD!

  Ice spikes hammered one side, webbing the dome with cracks. On the other, the black fire serpent struck—stone glowed red-hot, smoke hissing as it bit deep.

  Fei gritted his teeth, veins bulging, spirit energy draining fast. Then—the Fire cultivator’s casting hand suddenly spasmed. His knuckles withered, skin wrinkling like old parchment. Startled, he instinctively pulled his power back.

  The black flames flickered and died.

  Overwhelmed, the battered dome shattered. Huge chunks crumbled away.

  “Finish it!” the Fire cultivator rasped, voice bitter.

  The Ice Evil Cultivator smiled cruelly. Shards of ice swirled above her palm, fusing into one massive, spear-sharp icicle.

  “Brother—watch out!” Timo lunged, trying to shove Fei aside.

  Too late.

  The monstrous icicle shot forward, trailing a wave of killing frost—straight at Fei’s head.

  THUD! CRACK!

  It slammed into Fei’s last desperate defense: a thin layer of earthen armor over his scalp. Both shattered at once.

  The brown glow vanished. Fei’s head snapped back. Blood sprayed from his mouth.

  “Brother Fei…!” Timo’s cry tore through the air.

  “I… promised Yue… I’d keep you safe…” Fei choked, blood bubbling on his lips. His skin cracked like broken porcelain. “A man… keeps his word!”

  “RUN! DON’T LOOK BACK!”

  Madness blazed in Fei’s eyes. He yanked a crimson syringe from his robe and slammed it into his thigh.

  Unnatural power surged through him—veins glowing, eyes burning with terrifying light.

  Before Timo could react, an earthen platform erupted beneath his feet, launching him skyward like a catapult.

  In one explosive burst, Fei’s spirit power peaked. He leaped impossibly high, then brought both fists down with earth-shaking force.

  BOOOOOOM!

  The ground erupted like a stormy sea. Massive fissures snapped open, swallowing the unprepared cultivators whole.

  Timo flew through the air, tears streaming, the tremor shaking the world behind him. He didn’t dare look back. Wind spirit essence flooded his legs as he poured everything into speed, racing toward the distant outpost beacon.

  “Brother Fei… wait for me…!”

  Deep in the churning fissures, the Ice Evil Cultivator shrieked with rage. Ice gathered beneath the exhausted Fei, forming a trunk-thick spike that erupted upward—impaling him and hoisting his broken body high.

  “ARRRGGGHHH—!”

  His final scream echoed through the Black Forest, scattering flocks of terrified birds into the sky.

  The icicle dissolved. The Fire Cultivator stepped free, gazing down at the crumpled figure with twisted pity. “Such a waste… destroying your own spirit root.”

  “If you hadn’t greedily siphoned that extra energy, we’d have finished this ages ago!” the Ice Evil Cultivator hissed, appearing beside him. Her senses locked onto the fading trail of wind. “I’ll take the boy.”

  She vanished in a swirl of frost.

  “Brother Fei… I’m sorry… it’s all my fault…” Timo sobbed as he crashed through undergrowth, vision blurred with tears, wind howling uselessly around him. Only one thought burned in his mind: the outpost. Reinforcements.

  “A Wind spirit root…” the Ice Evil Cultivator murmured, tracking the trail effortlessly. She spotted the fleeing boy ahead. “Offered to the Celestial Master… it might finally grant my breakthrough.”

  WHOOSH!

  An ice spike grazed Timo’s ear, burying itself in a tree trunk. Another shattered a massive tree directly in his path.

  “Even given a chance, you’re pathetic,” her voice whispered, cold and close—right at the nape of his neck. “Accept your fate.”

  Timo spun in terror. A shadow detached from the trees like lightning.

  THUD—!!!

  Agony exploded in his neck. Darkness swallowed him whole.

  The Ice Evil Cultivator caught the unconscious boy, bundling him swiftly into a black sack. Wind gathered beneath her feet as she hoisted her prize and melted back into the shadows.

  At the edge of the Black Forest, the Fire Cultivator waited, two more ominous sacks at his side. Their eyes met—grim, silent acknowledgment. Without a word, they shouldered their burdens and vanished into the cursed gloom.

  Near the shattered bridge, the air rippled. A faint, translucent face formed for a moment, releasing a long, weary sigh before fading away.

  High above the clouds, on a small wooden skiff hidden in swirling mist, a grey-robed elder opened his eyes. The scene he had watched through spiritual sight dissolved.

  “A grave matter…” he murmured, voice heavy with ancient fatigue. “Remnants of the Evil Cultivators daring to operate inside Watch Legion territory… the rot runs deeper than I feared.”

  “Saint Emissary,” one of the grey-robed figures asked, maintaining the concealing mist around their vessel, “shall we intervene?”

  “Perfect timing,” another added eagerly. He was hunched over a small brazier, struggling with a piece of badly charred meat, soot smeared across his chin. “After this long journey, my fists are itching for a fight. These Evil Cultivator remnants need to be wiped out—root and branch!”

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