Up ahead, the bridge of green cubes flattened into a broad basin, the blocks descending step by step before rising again in the same gradual arc. It formed a shallow bowl, with stairs carved into the inner curve, and there, two cultivators were fighting.

  Bai Ning slowed, but too late. The instant she noticed them, they noticed her as well. Both men disentangled themselves and turned toward her, forming a wary triangle. She kept her barrier raised and one hand on her sword hilt, acutely aware of the cubes hovering overhead. Neither cultivator had been flying, or even moving much, which suggested they had faced the same danger she had: those blocks would fall the moment anyone took to the air.

  She also noted that both cultivators were old. Or at least middle-aged. One man’s hair was salt-and-pepper, his features sharp and distinguished, with a short, square beard. The other appeared of similar age, clean-shaven and bald, a massive strand of prayer beads looped around his neck, each bead large as a skull, covering most of the upper half of his white robes.

  For a moment, there was silence. As she studied them, they studied her, and likely arrived at an unwelcome conclusion. She was much younger, yet clearly at the peak of Foundation Establishment, the same as them. That signaled either extraordinary luck… or danger.

  The first man, robed in black, saluted. His qi remained taut, the barrier around him unbroken, but his voice was polite. “Well met, Fellow Daoist. I am Li Kang of the Seven Light Enclosure. And you?”

  Bai Ning considered him a moment longer, debating whether she should give her name. It was obvious he was trying to draw her into their conflict, which she thought profoundly foolish. Yes, this was a tournament, and combat was expected, but a battle here served no one. All three of them could easily fail if they fought in this place. That the two men were still hostile meant either there was history between them… or they were more concerned with short-term gains rather than long-term goals.

  Finally, she returned the salute. “Bai Ning,” she said, as clipped as she could manage. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. If you fellows can let me pass, then I’ll leave you to your… disagreement in peace.”

  Li Kang’s face tightened, but the bald cultivator threw his head back and barked a mocking laugh that echoed along the bowl of green cubes.

  “Ha! Serves you right, you bastard,” he crowed in open delight. “You thought you could bully me just because I’m a rogue cultivator? Well, this one isn’t eager to join you. What now, hmm?”

  Li Kang shot him a dark look before turning back to Bai Ning. “Fairy Bai Ning, you heard this savage. He is not part of the orthodox faction. As allies under Ancestor Qing’s banner, we should pool our strength to take him down. Doing so would lighten the rest of our path through the tournament.”

  Bai Ning looked him up and down, her hand tightening on her sword hilt. She dearly hoped she could avoid a fight; this would be an embarrassingly stupid way to be knocked out of the tournament.

  “I was under the impression that rogue cultivators were still counted among the orthodox faction,” she said evenly. “I doubt the Lord of the Lonely Roads would appreciate being lumped in with demonic sects.”

  The bald man laughed again, loud and unrestrained; Li Kang’s jaw ticked, a nerve thrumming under the skin.

  “They – they are barely a step above,” he insisted stiffly. “Fairy, together we would win with ease. Why hesitate?”

  “I am not interested in fighting here,” Bai Ning replied plainly. “If you want to knock out vagrant cultivators, then by all means, but leave me out of it. Now, can I pass, or not?”

  The bald cultivator answered first, folding his hands with exaggerated politeness, a wide grin plastered across his face. “Fairy, this Chen Zhuhe has no wish to hinder you. Please, pass freely.” Then his expression dipped into theatrical sorrow. “It is merely that this fellow refuses to leave me be…” He let the words trail off, his implication unmistakable.

  Bai Ning gave him a flat look. She had no intention of being dragged into their fight, and having refused Li Kang’s invitation, she certainly wasn’t about to intervene on Chen Zhuhe’s behalf either.

  “You scoundrel-” Li Kang snapped, venom twisting his features as he rounded on Chen Zhuhe. “I refuse to leave a criminal alone.” Then, turning stiffly toward Bai Ning, he added through clenched teeth, “If you insist on leaving, then leave. But know this: I will remember your actions here. My Seven Light Enclosure serves Ancestor Qing directly; your refusal to defend his name will be noted.”

  Bai Ning had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. What Seven Light Enclosure? She had never heard of such a sect. There was no chance it had any real connection to a Nascent Soul ancestor. This was just a proud, puffed-up fool using his supposed affiliation to justify his grudge against rogue cultivators. None of it had anything to do with her. She could see the path ahead, and she intended to take it.

  She stepped forward cautiously. Both cultivators shifted aside, tracking her with cool, measuring eyes. All three of their barriers remained active; none of them trusting the others more than necessity demanded. Bai Ning walked along the terrace of green cubes sloping downward, then rising again on the far side. Just a few more steps, and she would clear the bowl and leave their nonsense behind.

  Then, disaster struck.

  The cubes hovering above their heads shuddered once, and then, as if obeying a single command, plummeted. Dozens of them dropped down in unison, a hail of jade meteors screaming toward them.

  For a heartbeat Bai Ning froze, shock sparking through her spine. Then she leaped, her Paper Crane flying tool unfolding in a bright flicker beside her, catching her weight and carrying her upward. She wasn’t the only one. With a string of muttered curses, and one sharp, startled exclamation, both Li Kang and Chen Zhuhe launched themselves skyward: Li Kang on a slender flying sword, Chen Zhuhe borne aloft as his necklace of beads split apart, one bead swelling to the size of a platform beneath his feet.

  The cubes came down around them in a storm.

  One the size of a wagon clipped Bai Ning’s shield with the force of a battering ram, sending a shimmering ripple across her barrier and numbing her fingers. Another slammed into Chen Zhuhe’s bead-mount, the impact rolling through the air like thunder and pitching him sideways with a shout. Li Kang tried to carve a falling cube apart with a blade of illusory swordlight, however the strike just sparked uselessly across its surface, and he had to duck as the block continued downward, grazing past his shoulder and sending his flying sword into a dangerous wobble.

  The rain of cubes intensified, green stars falling in a furious cascade, and the three cultivators wove through the chaos, dodging what they could and bracing themselves for the impacts they could not avoid.

  And then the bridge itself began to collapse.

  The segment closest to them vanished in a single, catastrophic pulse, with blocks dropping out of existence into the void below. The destruction raced outward with terrifying speed, a chain of disappearing platforms devouring the bridge block by block. From above, it looked as though the path was being swallowed whole.

  Bai Ning’s stomach clenched. Without solid ground to land on, they would eventually be knocked from the air. The others realized it as well. As one, all three surged toward the collapsing bridge, desperate to reach the intact sections before they vanished. But the destruction was already racing ahead, and the sky was still filled with falling jade.

  She was the fastest, her Paper Crane darting through the barrage with a nimble grace the others couldn’t match. But every impact sent her shield shuddering and stalled her momentum, making progress torturously slow. Chen Zhuhe, by contrast, seemed to weather the storm best: his bead-mount was solid enough that each cube only knocked him around a little, though its sluggish speed meant he absorbed more blows than she or Li Kang combined.

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  Li Kang, however, was faring the worst. His flying sword was fast and maneuverable, but it was built for offense, not defense. Even a glancing hit sent him lurching, and every swordlight he hurled at the falling blocks fizzled uselessly against their emerald surfaces.

  Bai Ning flattened herself against the Crane as a cube hurtled past inches from her head, the wind from its passing whipping her hair into a wild halo. When the next cube spun toward her, she unfurled her sword in a flash, meeting the block with a desperate strike. Sparks skittered uselessly across the jade. The cube didn’t even slow.

  She swallowed a curse. If only those two fools hadn’t made me waste so much time…

  Speaking of fools-

  Li Kang yelped, an undignified sound torn from his throat as a cube the size of a house plunged toward him. At the last moment his flying sword streaked forward in a burst of light, barely hauling him out of harm’s way. But the burst cost him: his qi faltered, his balance slipped, and the very next falling block clipped him in the side hard.

  He tumbled from his flying sword and fell into the void.

  Across the chaos, through a maze of falling jade, Bai Ning’s eyes met Chen Zhuhe’s. Both froze for an instant. Then something sparked between them, an instant and unspoken understanding born out to shared danger.

  Bai Ning dove, ignoring the blocks hammering at her barrier, angling the Paper Crane downward toward Li Kang’s plummeting form. At the same moment, Chen Zhuhe swung his bead-mount sharply, interposing himself between her and the storm. His shield expanded in a smooth, rippling surge until it enveloped her in a broad protective arc.

  The cube storm showed no mercy. Even as Chen Zhuhe’s shield widened to cover them, jade blocks slammed into it with thunderous force, each impact sending tremors rippling across the barrier. The air shrieked with stone grinding against stone, the whistle of plunging cubes, and the harsh cadence of their desperate breaths. The two cultivators plunged through the void like birds caught in a gale, weaving, twisting, barely keeping ahead of the collapse.

  Bai Ning gritted her teeth, snapping her sword free in a whip-like motion. The ribbon blade lashed outward like a lasso. Li Kang, still tumbling, but conscious enough to react, thrust out a qi-hardened hand and seized it. Even so, the blade bit deep, coiling around his arm before tightening enough to arrest his fall.

  She yanked.

  Li Kang shot upward so fast he nearly overshot her entirely, but Bai Ning caught him by a fistful of robes and dragged him onto the Crane. He screamed as a cube tore past, nearly taking both their heads off. Then Chen Zhuhe was there again, his bead’s barrier merging with the red glow of Bai Ning’s Crimson Parasol. Their overlapping shields formed a cocoon of radiant light that shuddered under every impact.

  Together, the trio accelerated, carving a path through the airborne chaos, weaving between plunging jade and racing to escape the storm.

  Even Li Kang contributed. Freed from the burden of flying or defending himself, he conjured illusory swords one after another, firing them at any cube that veered too close. The swordlights barely scratched the jade, but they slowed the falling blocks just enough to buy the group precious seconds to make some distance.

  The storm did not relent.

  Even as their three-fold barrier held, the cubes fell with relentless fury, battering the shields with impacts that Bai Ning could feel in her very bones. The Paper Crane shivered beneath her feet, as it strained to escape the green cubes, even with the relentless qi she was pouring into it. The sky above and around them had become a roiling sea of green stone, each block a threat falling faster than the last.

  “We’re not going to make it,” Chen Zhuhe shouted, his voice strained. His bead mount bucked beneath him as another cube clipped the edge of their joined shield, it’s iridescent surface rippling like a struck drum.

  Bai Ning’s eyes darted ahead. The collapsing bridge had nearly disintegrated; only a narrow sliver of green cubes remained, and even that was rapidly disappearing on the far side of the room. If they didn’t reach it now, the void would swallow everything.

  “Hold on!” she called.

  The Paper Crane dove, slicing between two plunging jade blocks with a hair’s width to spare. Chen Zhuhe’s bead-mount followed, thought it was not able to escape fully. One falling cube struck their shield, and the impact hurled him sideways. His bead spun like a wheel in the air before he wrestled it back under control with a snarl. Li Kang, wedged against the Crane’s spine beside Bai Ning, thrust out both palms. Illusory sword after illusory sword shot forth, a storm of silver blades intercepting the falling cubes. Most strikes skittered harmlessly against jade, but a few slowed the blocks enough to carve fleeting, precious openings.

  “Now!” Bai Ning shouted.

  As one, the three of them wove their qi together and poured everything into their flying tools. They blasted out of the densest mass of falling cubes, almost catching up to the collapsing bridge.

  Then a cube the size of a house dropped directly into their path.

  Bai Ning felt the breath leave her chest, but Chen Zhuhe roared, summoning a bead and hurling it toward the oncoming block. At the same instant, Li Kang’s flying sword streaked forward like a silver comet. The bead and sword collided with the cube together, detonating in a burst of force that knocked the jade block off its descent and hurled sparks in every direction.

  Both men went white as paper. Chen Zhuhe doubled over, coughing raggedly, droplets of blood scattering in the air.

  But it had worked. The narrow sliver of bridge lay directly beneath them.

  Bai Ning folded the Crane’s wings and plunged, aiming for the intact section. Air shrieked past her ears as they fell in a controlled, desperate dive. Chen Zhuhe dropped from his bead and latched weakly onto the Crane; Bai Ning reached back and hauled him up by the collar of his robes. Li Kang clung to her other side, teeth gritted as cubes screamed past in flashes of green light.

  A final jade block plunged toward them from above.

  Bai Ning didn’t think; she just reacted. Her Crimson Parasol flared, expanding in a radiant dome that warped the cube’s trajectory just enough for it to miss them by a breath.

  And then-

  They hit the bridge.

  The Paper Crane skidded across the green surface, this time smooth as silk instead of uneven. Chen Zhuhe, jolted by the landing, nearly rolled off and only barely slammed back onto the Crane before he could fall again. Li Kang wasn’t so lucky; he tumbled off entirely, hit the ground shoulder-first, and lay groaning.

  Silence fell.

  The cubes in the sky, now numbering in the hundreds, went still. They hovered motionless, frozen midair. Even the bridge ceased collapsing. The three of them remained where they had fallen, exhausted, battered, but alive, having won this round.

  ………………………………….

  “-and I’m telling you there’s no way that’s true. Cai Cao is just a legend, and an exaggerated one at that. There’s no universe in which a rogue cultivator managed half the things the bards claim he did.”

  Chen Zhuhe’s scowl looked too large to belong on one human face. “Bah,” he said, each syllable thick with offended conviction, “it’s not a story. I’ve been to the Mistwind Cloister myself. They have an entire shelf dedicated to Master Cai Cao. An entire shelf! You think they’d waste that much space on a fairy tale?”

  Li Kang was unmoved. “Those mad monks once threw out a third-rank sword manual to make room for a collection of folk songs about rice wine. That is not the defense you seem to imagine it is.” He turned to Bai Ning with the confident air of a man certain that logic, and any intelligent witness, was on his side. “Besides, Fairy Bai Ning agrees with me.” A pause. “Obviously.”

  Chen Zhuhe jabbed a thick finger at Li Kang’s nose. “Why not let her speak for herself?”

  Then, like two unruly children awaiting judgment from a long-suffering parent, they both turned to Bai Ning with expectant eyes.

  Bai Ning, whose withered expression suggested that she had lived to see her hopes turn to ash, the ash to dust, and the dust to a faint and meaningless smear, blinked slowly and wearily. Two hours. Just two hours. She considered herself an outgoing person, who could hold a pleasant conversation with nearly anyone, but in two hours, these two best friends – who had just earlier been sworn mortal enemies – had disabused her of that notion.

  They had not stopped arguing about something or the other for two hours.

  She suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for her parents and for Master Mo Jian. Surely she hadn’t been this bad growing up. …Probably. Maybe.

  And why, in all the heavens, were they still following her after the bridge?

  She had been confused enough when they’d greeted one another like sworn martial brothers, that also mere breaths after trying to murder each other, but that confusion had soured into horror when they’d turned those bright, grateful smiles on her and promptly declared her their “martial sister.”

  Every attempt to extricate herself and slip away had failed miserably. Her conscience simply wouldn’t allow her to shove them off a cliff or snap at them to leave her alone, not after what they had all just survived together.

  And so here she was, trapped between two of the chattiest cultivators she had ever encountered. And she counted herself in that assessment.

  Bai Ning inhaled. Then exhaled. Then stared up at the jade-green ceiling of the corridor as though praying for divine intervention. Or for another trap to spring. Honestly, she’d take either.

  Finally, she said, with the patience of someone clinging to the last thread of sanity, “Brothers… please. We still need to find the path forward. The trial isn’t over.”

  Chen Zhuhe blinked. “Oh. Right.”

  Li Kang cleared his throat. “Yes. Of course. The trial.”

  A brief, blessed silence descended.

  Then-

  Li Kang opened his mouth. “I still maintain there is no possible way-”

  “-just because you have a poor education-”

  “-says the man who just argued the Mistwind Cloister is a reliable source-”

  “-at least I don’t go around waving my sword-“

  “-I didn’t wave anything; you grabbed it-“

  The argument reignited with renewed ferocity.

  Bai Ning sighed, long, deep, and full of misery, and resumed walking. She no longer cared what the next trial was. She only hoped it arrived quickly.

  Because at this rate, forget the challenge; these two would kill her first.

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