Backlash

The wind descending from the mountainside into the valley floor had begun to shift.

Hao Nhien sensed the change clearly through his Wind affinity. The currents were compressed between the two cliff walls, slid through the bend ahead, then curled down toward the stretch of sand just beyond the campfire’s glow. The scent of the three men on the higher slope was carried away with it, no longer drifting directly toward the Sand Fox pack.

Below, the Sand Fox King had appeared again.

It followed the same route as before, using the darkness between the dune and the foot of the cliff to hide its body before accelerating toward the defensive ring.

Hao Nhien did not need to repeat the plan. He pointed toward the King, then signaled to Lanh Hoa.

Lanh Hoa gave a slight nod. His curved saber was already out of its sheath, his stance lowered, and his attention fixed entirely on the beast racing across the valley floor.

Hao Nhien turned to the other side.

Luu Thanh understood at once. His usual casual expression had vanished, the longbow held horizontally before him while three black-feathered arrows rested between his fingers. Around a campfire he could talk without end, but once the bowstring was drawn, all trace of playfulness disappeared. What remained was the focus of an archer who understood that being half a beat late or a fraction off target could cost someone their life.

Hao Nhien took a deep breath and pushed off the rock beneath his feet.

He shot down from the high slope, using the incline and the descending current to build speed. Wind affinity flowed around his body, not forming any distinct art, but continuously adjusting his direction and reducing resistance as he descended.

Lanh Hoa followed almost at the same time.

The middle-aged man moved in a completely different manner. Without relying on an explosive burst of wind, he simply chose each foothold with precision, using every protruding rock to lower himself step by step. His movements were short, firm, and economical, wasting no strength.

Luu Thanh did not leap straight toward the valley floor. Instead, he moved along the higher slope with his bow ready. From that position, he could keep Hao Nhien, Lanh Hoa, and most of the Sand Fox pack’s outer ring within sight.

Below, the silver-bearded man was being forced back.

The great saber in his hands could still make the lower-ranked Sand Foxes give way, but his breathing had grown much heavier. Blood had darkened half the sleeve beneath the wound on his left shoulder, while the two Foundation Establishment cultivators beside him were not in much better condition.

The young woman was still being protected at the center.

She had just finished binding the wound of someone lying beside her when she rose and saw the Sand Fox King crouching low beyond the firelight.

This time, the King was no longer circling in search of the weakest target.

Its green eyes had locked onto the silver-bearded man.

Both forelegs dug deep into the sand, the muscles beneath its gray-gold fur tightening. The aura of a third-rank spirit beast spread outward, making the ground around its paws tremble faintly.

At that moment, Hao Nhien landed behind the pack’s outer ring.

A nearby Sand Fox had only just turned when the Tieu Dao Sword left its sheath. He poured spiritual power into the blade and used the momentum of his descent to slash across.

The beast twisted aside, avoiding most of the sword light, and immediately swept a foreclaw toward Hao Nhien’s ribs.

A sharp whistle cut down from above.

Luu Thanh’s arrow pierced the joint of its front leg, throwing the beast off balance just as the Tieu Dao Sword came around again.

The blade passed through its throat, and the Sand Fox collapsed before it could make a sound.

Hao Nhien did not stop. He moved deeper through the opening while Luu Thanh’s bowstring snapped repeatedly from the slope above. Each arrow targeted the beasts trying to close the encirclement rather than simply choosing the easiest kill.

One arrow pierced the eye of a fox on the left.

Another struck the ground before two beasts charging toward Hao Nhien. Wind-affinity spiritual power burst around the shaft, throwing sand upward and forcing them to change direction.

A third arrow hit the rear-leg joint of a second-rank Sand Fox, opening a gap wide enough for Lanh Hoa to pass through.

The three did not need to call out to one another.

Luu Thanh disrupted the pack’s rhythm from a distance, Hao Nhien carved a path through the middle, and Lanh Hoa ignored the lower-ranked beasts entirely. From the beginning, he had only one target.

The Sand Fox King.

The arrival of the three men immediately changed the hunt.

The pack had maintained control by keeping constant pressure on prey trapped inside its ring. Once a new force broke in from behind, several groups that had not adjusted in time turned toward Hao Nhien and Lanh Hoa, easing the pressure on the caravan.

The silver-bearded man recognized the opportunity at once.

“Hold the formation!”

His great saber swept outward, forcing three Sand Foxes to retreat before he closed the opening they had left behind.

The Sand Fox King also recognized the new threat.

It raised its head and released a piercing howl that echoed along the valley.

The sound carried a pulse of spiritual power that made Hao Nhien’s head ring for an instant, but he circulated the Soul Art to steady his mind and kept his footing from breaking.

As the howl rose, Lanh Hoa was already closing in. His curved saber cut diagonally from behind, aimed at the junction between the King’s neck and shoulder.

The Sand Fox King twisted aside. It was clearly faster than Lanh Hoa.

The saber only managed to tear a long gash along its flank, ripping through the thick fur and leaving a dark trail of blood.

The silver-bearded man understood what Lanh Hoa was doing almost immediately. He swung his great saber upward from below, denying the King an easy retreat toward the campfire.

The beast was forced to leap sideways.

As all four paws left the ground, one of Luu Thanh’s arrows struck the exact place where it was about to land. Wind affinity erupted around the shaft, lifting the sand into a low spiral.

For one brief instant, the Sand Fox King’s landing rhythm faltered.

It was the same pocket of turbulent air Hao Nhien had observed from the slope above.

“Lanh Hoa!”

Hao Nhien had barely called out when Lanh Hoa stepped in and brought the curved saber down again.

This time, the blade cut deeply into the King’s right foreleg just above the joint. The wound was not enough to cripple it, but that leg immediately became noticeably slower.

The Sand Fox King roared.

Instead of continuing to engage Lanh Hoa, it abruptly turned toward the silver-bearded man.

The choice was precise.

Among everyone attacking it, that man had already spent the most strength.

The King lowered its body and launched forward.

The silver-bearded man barely managed to raise his great saber. Metal rang through the valley as the beast’s claw smashed into the spine of the weapon with terrifying force. The impact jolted through the man’s arm, tore the saber from his hands, and sent him stumbling backward.

The Sand Fox King gave him no chance to recover. Its jaws opened wide and lunged straight for his throat.

“Uncle Qin!”

The young woman cried out from behind. She tried to rush forward, but the person beside her caught her before she could move more than a step.

The distance was too great.

No one in the caravan could reach him in time.

Just as the Sand Fox King’s fangs came within inches of the man’s neck, its hindquarters were suddenly pulled off line.

Lanh Hoa had discarded his saber. He rushed in from the side, seized the Sand Fox King by the tail with both hands, and drove all of his Fire-affinity spiritual power down through his legs. The sand beneath his feet was carved into two deep grooves.

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He did not have the strength to stop the beast completely, but he did not need to. Pulling the trajectory of its charge a few inches off course was enough.

The Sand Fox King’s jaws swept past the silver-bearded man’s neck, tearing through his clothing without reaching the artery beneath.

The man fell onto the sand.

The King roared and twisted its rear half violently, sweeping a claw back toward Lanh Hoa.

Lanh Hoa released the tail at once, but the distance was already too short.

Hao Nhien did not hesitate.

Spirit Wings appeared behind him for an instant.

The translucent wings flashed and beat once, hurling him across the distance between them. Hao Nhien caught Lanh Hoa by the shoulder with his left hand and used the full burst of momentum to drag him out of the claw’s path.

The Sand Fox King’s attack swept through the place where Lanh Hoa had stood, cutting away only a few strands of hair near his temple.

Both men slid across the sand.

Lanh Hoa braced one hand against the ground and rose. For the first time, clear tension showed on his face.

“Clan Head.”

“I’m fine.”

Hao Nhien released him.

The Sand Fox King turned as well.

Its green eyes locked onto Hao Nhien.

It had realized that this man was the source of the disruption.

An arrow came down from above, aimed straight at its eye.

The King tilted its head, letting the first shot graze past its ear. A second arrow struck the side of its neck but only penetrated shallowly. The third targeted its injured foreleg and forced it to shift its weight.

Luu Thanh was doing everything he could to keep it in place.

But the King no longer intended to withdraw. It roared and charged Hao Nhien head-on, pouring the full power of a third-rank spirit beast into a direct assault.

Hao Nhien tightened both hands around the Tieu Dao Sword.

Claw and blade collided.

A piercing metallic crash rang through the valley.

The force transmitted through the sword was so great that Hao Nhien’s arms went numb. He was driven back five or six steps, each one carving deeply into the sand. His blood surged violently in his chest, and a metallic sweetness rose into his throat.

He forced most of it back down, though a thin line of blood still appeared at the corner of his mouth.

One direct clash was enough to make the difference between them unmistakable.

The Sand Fox King was far stronger than he was.

Even with its injured foreleg, its physical strength still surpassed that of a first-layer Foundation Establishment cultivator by an enormous margin.

Lanh Hoa attacked from the left without delay, his curved saber back in hand. He drove the blade into the existing wound along the Sand Fox King’s flank, trying to force it to turn and give Hao Nhien time to recover his rhythm.

The King only shifted its body.

The saber tore deeper, but rather than avoiding the wound completely, it accepted the injury and swept a claw toward Lanh Hoa.

It was willing to trade injury for a life.

Lanh Hoa understood the intent but did not retreat.

Fire-affinity spiritual power surged into the weapon, a red glow running along its spine as he drove the blade deeper.

Hao Nhien knew that if the claw landed, Lanh Hoa would be severely injured even if he survived.

Spirit Wings erupted for the second time, shorter than before but even more violent. Hao Nhien swept around the Sand Fox King and pulled Lanh Hoa out of range just before the attack arrived. The moment they left, the beast’s claws tore a deep furrow through the sand behind them.

“Fall back,” Hao Nhien said.

Lanh Hoa tightened his grip on the saber.

“I can still fight.”

“I know.”

Hao Nhien never took his eyes off the Sand Fox King.

“But you are not trading your life for it.”

Lanh Hoa remained silent for a moment before stepping half a pace back.

The Sand Fox King gave them no more time. It was thoroughly enraged.

Twice prevented from killing its prey, with wounds now marking both its flank and foreleg, it abandoned the patient hunting style it had used earlier. Its massive body lowered again, spirit-beast power gathering around its claws in preparation for another charge.

As Hao Nhien watched it, one thing became painfully clear.

If the battle continued this way, they could probably win.

Lanh Hoa, Luu Thanh, and Hao Nhien coordinated well enough to wear the beast down piece by piece. Several members of the caravan could still fight as well.

But the price would be heavy.

One mistake was all the Sand Fox King needed to take a life.

Hao Nhien had no intention of gambling with Lanh Hoa’s or Luu Thanh’s lives merely to prolong a battle when he still had another choice.

He lowered the Tieu Dao Sword.

Within his Sea of Consciousness, the Fire Qilin Jade began to heat.

At first, it was only the familiar trace of warmth, but this time it did not stop there.

The heat surged violently outward, leaving the Sea of Consciousness and racing through his meridians. Most of it then converged toward his right shoulder.

The flame-shaped mark between Hao Nhien’s brows lit up.

The Fire Qilin Phantom appeared behind him.

The massive crimson shadow was larger and clearer than before. Its form was still incomplete, but even those nearby could now make out the upper body of the ancient creature within the dim firelight. One forelimb was especially distinct, covered in red-black, stone-like hide threaded with glowing lines that resembled flowing magma.

At the same time, Hao Nhien’s right arm began to transform for real.

The muscles from his shoulder to his forearm swelled beneath his sleeve. Cloth tore under the heat and changing shape, revealing skin that gradually darkened into red-black. Thin glowing lines spread beneath the surface like veins of molten rock, his knuckles enlarged, and the tips of his fingers lengthened into curved claws radiating fierce heat.

The arm was still Hao Nhien’s, but it no longer looked entirely human. Behind him, the forelimb of the Fire Qilin Phantom aligned almost perfectly with the transforming limb, making it difficult for a moment to distinguish the inherited apparition from the physical change taking place before their eyes.

The sand around Hao Nhien’s feet began to heat.

Some grains near his right hand glowed red before fusing into tiny fragments of glass.

The name of this ability had already existed within the inheritance.

Hao Nhien did not need to learn it.

He only needed to call it forth.

“Berserk.”

His aura erupted.

Lanh Hoa froze for a moment.

For the first time, the middle-aged man’s usually cold expression shifted visibly. It was not because he had never seen the Fire Qilin mark before. What stood before him now was entirely different from Hao Nhien merely revealing the flame at his brow.

The inheritance itself was changing his body.

Luu Thanh, still on the slope, paused with the bowstring half drawn. His eyes widened, but no joke came.

The Sand Fox King sensed it as well.

Instinct made it hesitate, but only for an instant. Blood, pain, and the ferocity of a wounded King quickly overwhelmed that wariness, and it resumed its charge.

Hao Nhien did not evade.

He transferred the Tieu Dao Sword to his left hand.

His transformed right hand clenched into a fist.

He could feel clearly that his cultivation had not increased. His spiritual power, speed, and defense still could not match the Sand Fox King. What Berserk had pushed to the limit was the explosive strength of his body, and most of that force was concentrated in the beast-transformed right arm.

Hao Nhien lowered his center of gravity.

The Body Soul Fist Art circulated.

He did not aim for the center of the incoming claw.

His target had always been the right foreleg already wounded by Lanh Hoa and repeatedly harassed by Luu Thanh’s arrows.

The Sand Fox King struck downward.

Hao Nhien’s right fist drove upward.

The impact no longer sounded like metal.

A deep explosion rolled across the valley, followed by the chilling crack of bone and joint being forced out of alignment.

The recoil drove Hao Nhien backward.

Pain shot through the transformed arm all the way to his shoulder, but the Sand Fox King suffered more. Hao Nhien had not overwhelmed its strength outright. He had simply struck the already-damaged joint with all the explosive force Berserk could give him.

The King’s right foreleg bent at an unnatural angle.

Its howl of pain tore through the valley.

The charging body lost balance and crashed forward into the sand.

“Now!”

Hao Nhien shouted.

Luu Thanh’s bowstring snapped.

Two Wind-affinity arrows descended almost together, not toward the King’s head but into the sand on either side of its body.

Lanh Hoa charged in as well. His curved saber slashed into one of the beast’s hind legs, preventing it from twisting away.

A tiny opening appeared, but for Hao Nhien, that was enough. Spirit Wings unfolded once more behind him and hurled him forward. The Tieu Dao Sword in his left hand drew close to his body as every remaining thread of spiritual power was compressed into a single straight line.

This was a sword technique he had used for a long time, simple, fast, and meant for only one point.

One Sword.

The Sand Fox King had just raised its head when its jaws opened in a roar.

Hao Nhien was already in front of it.

The Tieu Dao Sword thrust directly into its mouth, pierced the soft tissue behind the jaw, and continued deep into the skull.

The Sand Fox King’s entire body went rigid.

Its roar died at once.

The green eyes remained wide for several breaths before the light within them faded.

Hao Nhien pulled the sword free and moved aside.

The massive body crashed onto the sand with a heavy thud.

The surrounding pack immediately fell into chaos.

The precise coordination that had defined the hunt disappeared almost as soon as the King’s aura vanished. A few Sand Foxes still growled, but most had already begun to retreat. The Fire Qilin Phantom behind Hao Nhien had not yet fully faded, and the lingering aura of Berserk made the nearest beasts even less willing to approach.

One turned and fled.

Then another followed.

Within only a few breaths, the entire pack began scattering into the darkness. Their formation was gone, the disciplined waves of attack replaced by the simple instinct to escape the place where their King had died.

No one pursued them.

Lanh Hoa stood beside the Sand Fox King’s corpse, saber still in hand, but his eyes had already turned toward Hao Nhien. Luu Thanh lowered his bow as well.

Hao Nhien could barely feel his right arm.

The Fire Qilin Phantom faded behind him while the beast transformation gradually receded. The glowing lines beneath his skin dimmed, the claws shortened, and the red-black color returned toward normal. Yet the moment the transformation truly began to withdraw, pain surged from his hand all the way to his shoulder.

Inside his dantian, his spiritual power had been drained to the bottom. Berserk had lasted only a few breaths, but it had forced nearly all of his spiritual power, physical strength, and explosive potential into that tiny span of time. The repeated bursts of Spirit Wings beforehand had only made the depletion worse, leaving his body almost completely empty.

Hao Nhien’s legs weakened, and he planted the Tieu Dao Sword into the sand to keep himself from collapsing.

He swallowed two recovery pills, but their medicinal power was only enough to keep his meridians from drying out further and help him remain conscious. To restore his spiritual power completely, he knew he would need at least several days.

Lanh Hoa stepped forward at once.

He did not waste time with questions. He simply supported Hao Nhien beneath the left arm and held him steady.

“I’m fine.”

Hao Nhien’s voice was hoarse.

Lanh Hoa looked at his trembling right arm.

“Backlash?”

“Mm.”

Lanh Hoa remained silent for a moment before saying,

“You should not use it a second time.”

Hao Nhien gave a faint laugh.

“I don’t have the strength to use it again.”

Only then did Luu Thanh come down from the slope. His bow remained in hand, but he stared at the dead Sand Fox King and then at Hao Nhien for a long while. Under normal circumstances, a scene like this would probably have inspired ten exaggerated remarks from him.

This time, he merely exhaled.

“Clan Head.”

Hao Nhien looked over.

Luu Thanh pointed toward the Sand Fox King’s corpse.

“This scene... I could tell it for the rest of my life.”

Lanh Hoa glanced at him.

“Do not embellish it.”

Luu Thanh answered with complete seriousness,

“I have not added anything yet.”

“I know you.”

“...Then at least let me tell the truth.”

Hao Nhien wanted to laugh, but the moment the corner of his mouth moved, a dull ache spread through his chest. In the end, he could only shake his head.

On the other side, the surviving members of the caravan had still not fully recovered from what they had witnessed.

The silver-bearded man had already been helped back to his feet. The wound on his neck was only a shallow tear, but his face remained pale from how narrowly he had escaped death.

The others looked first at the Sand Fox King’s corpse, then at the three men who had descended from the slope.

In the end, most of their gazes settled on Hao Nhien.

The young woman was no exception. She still stood among several guards, the short blade remaining in her hand. There were streaks of someone else’s blood on her clothes, and her hair had become disheveled during the battle, but her eyes were completely clear.

Her gaze passed over Lanh Hoa, paused on Hao Nhien’s trembling right arm, then moved to the flame-shaped mark slowly fading between his brows.

She said nothing.

Hao Nhien did not ask who she was either.

A stretch of sand covered in Sand Fox corpses and blood still separated the two groups. They had just fought on the same side, but that did not mean they had already become acquaintances.