Volume One: Youths Meet in Their Humble Beginnings Chapter Eight: Crisis Amid the Mist

Li Yu led the three companions deeper into the heart of the mountain. As they walked, he explained, “When I used to come here with my grandmother, I always felt the energy in this area was blocked and stifled, not flowing freely.”

Shui Linglong was both curious and surprised. “You said energy? What kind of energy do you mean?”

Li Yu replied, “A current of white energy and a current of black energy. But the black energy here is different from the one that shrouds the summit of Red Spring Mountain.”

The three of them exchanged glances, suspecting they understood what Li Yu meant by the black energy.

The energies of yin and yang are the primordial forces of heaven and earth; all things are born of their interplay. The ancient texts say, “The Way gives birth to the One, the One gives birth to the Two, the Two give birth to the Three, the Three give birth to all things. All things carry yin and embrace yang, blending energies to achieve harmony.”

Though interpretations of the classics vary, none can deny that the origin of all things lies in the dynamic interplay and eventual equilibrium of yin and yang.

What Li Yu saw, the black and white currents, were the very essences of yin and yang.

They had already marveled at Li Yu’s natural talent, but they hadn’t expected it to be so extraordinary that he could perceive the forces of yin and yang themselves.

Unlike the middle-aged Daoist, whose cultivation was profound and who had observed Li Yu with foresight, these three could not immediately discern from his chosen paths and directions that every route he picked subtly harmonized with the changes of yin and yang. If they had realized how rare such an ability was, their expectations of Li Yu would have soared even higher.

Even now, they were deeply shaken by Li Yu’s ability to see the two primal energies, for they themselves could only sense such things through their spiritual perception, never with the naked eye.

As Li Yu had said, the yin and yang here were extremely abundant, a sign of potent life force. Even a dragon’s lair would struggle to gather such a quantity of primal energy.

Moreover, in their own senses, they noticed another thing Li Yu had mentioned: the yin and yang energies here were unnaturally stagnant.

By all reason, in a place so rich in life force, the flow of yin and yang should be vigorous and smooth, embodying the principle of ceaseless renewal, ensuring the area’s spiritual energy was as lush as a budding spring forest.

The four pressed on, only to find the situation growing ever more severe.

Their expressions grew tense. Lie Yankong took the lead, gripping his longsword tightly and ready to draw at any moment. Shui Linglong followed closely, quietly summoning a protective water shield in case of sudden ambush. Lu Ming took the rear, fingers tapping the sheath of his sword, keeping his mind clear and senses heightened, ready to pick up the slightest disturbance.

Li Yu was surrounded by the three, feeling little of their burden, though, being his first encounter with such circumstances, he couldn’t help but feel a touch nervous.

Suddenly, a black figure burst from the forest ahead, flying towards them with lightning speed, darting left and right so quickly it left only fleeting afterimages. Lie Yankong fixed his gaze on the shadow, and at last, his sword moved.

The moment the black shadow lunged, Lie Yankong drew his blade and charged. The creature’s claws slashed at him, but Lie Yankong leapt left, narrowly dodging the attack, then slashed with a flash of sword light, knocking the shadow to the ground.

But as Lie Yankong dealt with this first assailant, over a dozen more black shapes flitted from the surrounding woods. Though slower than the first, they made up for it in numbers.

Shui Linglong deployed her water shield, rebuffing the lesser creatures and hurling them backward. She then channeled her energy to form a dozen ice spikes, which she sent flying with a wave of her hand—each one struck true, felling its target.

Lie Yankong examined the first black shadow and declared, “It’s a mutated wolf.”

Shui Linglong asked, “Mutated by some malignant energy?”

Lie Yankong shook his head. “Not just that.” He focused his energy into his palm, then struck the wolf’s skull. A black bead shot out. “Just as I suspected: these wolves were raised by someone.”

If any sect was known for its research into such corrupt creatures, it was the Fire Sun Sect. The others, hearing Lie Yankong’s swift verdict, saw no reason to object.

He continued, “Ordinary mutations only change the body. But this wolf king has formed a demon pearl, which means someone awakened its intelligence and taught it to absorb spiritual energy. That’s why it could sense my presence and shift position just before each of my attacks. Without awakened intelligence, a beast remains little more than a wild animal—quick, perhaps, but incapable of such cunning.”

The other two understood what he was implying: the disturbances here were likely not natural, but orchestrated.

Lu Ming then asked Li Yu, “Do you know how much farther we have to go?”

Li Yu pursed his lips. “About another hour’s walk.”

The three fell silent. Judging from the wolf king’s abilities, it could have challenged most cultivators. Though it hadn’t yet mastered its innate demonic arts, its speed and ability to sense energy would have spelled doom for an ordinary practitioner.

As they continued, it became clear that the monsters ahead would only grow more numerous and more formidable.

Before long, a thick mist rose from the forest. The four immediately took antidote pills against potential toxins and formed a defensive circle. Shui Linglong expanded her water shield to protect against unforeseen dangers.

Lie Yankong turned to her. “Junior Sister Shui, can you use the water energy here to guide us?”

He was right: a drought demon would seek out the most abundant water energy for its lair.

Shui Linglong tried, but shook her head in disappointment. “No, the area is full of places rich in water energy. I can’t pinpoint the right one.”

Lie Yankong grew grave, but Li Yu interjected, “Weren’t you counting on me to lead the way? I can still guide us!”

Lie Yankong had assumed that with the mist obscuring all sight, Li Yu would be as lost as the rest. He hadn’t realized Li Yu never relied on vision, but rather on perceiving the flow of energy.

“So you can still see the way?” Lie Yankong asked in surprise.

Li Yu shook his head. “Not the path itself.”

“Then how do you guide us?”

“I can’t see the path, but I can see how the energy flows and changes.”

Even Lu Ming, usually so composed, stared at Li Yu as if he were seeing him for the first time. “You mean you can not only see the energy, but also its movement and transformation?”

Li Yu nodded. “I always have.”

This completely upended their understanding of cultivation. None had imagined anyone could be born able to perceive the transformations of yin and yang—an ability thought exclusive to cultivators who had surpassed the tenth realm.

Lie Yankong was tempted to slice Li Yu open and see what he was made of.

But Shui Linglong quickly refocused them. “Now’s not the time for discussion. Lead the way, Li Yu. Tell us the direction, and we’ll sense for danger.”

Li Yu looked ahead. The currents of black and white energy still streamed toward the southeast. He pointed the way.

The three used their own methods to check for danger, and, reassured, prepared to move on.

To avoid being separated, Shui Linglong conjured a rope of water, tying them all together as they advanced southeast.

In the next half hour, they faced several more attacks, but managed to fend them all off.

Just as they began to relax, several figures burst from the mist, launching a fierce assault the moment they appeared.

Now the real battle had begun—the earlier monsters had only been a test. When those failed, the enemy behind the scenes had finally chosen to act.

The attackers, seizing the initiative, wove spells and incantations, stirring up a ghastly aura from which vicious spirits emerged, charging straight at them.

All three were expert swordsmen, and their sects provided techniques for banishing evil, but caught off guard, they were momentarily at a disadvantage.

Fortunately, they were no novices. Though awkward at first, they quickly adapted to the mist-laden battlefield.

Facing the onslaught of both ghosts and men, Lie Yankong recited the Golden Light Incantation, his sword radiating a blazing celestial force. With a single stroke, he cleaved one of the evil spirits, then turned his blade to parry a foe’s attack, following up with a left palm strike of pure yang energy.

These moves, though simple, were perfect for countering ghostly arts—using yang to conquer yin.

Shui Linglong, whose sect cultivated the way of water, fought with a blade that shimmered with cold, spectral light. With a sweep of her sword, she sent a wave of frost over the spirit, freezing it solid. Without pause, she twisted her sword’s momentum and struck down the enemy who had just closed in.

Lu Ming shielded Li Yu, keeping him safe behind. His style was the cleanest and most decisive.

He drew, struck, and sheathed his blade—his opponents, both man and ghost, disappeared or fell in two with each seamless motion.

Though the three followed different paths and wielded different arts, they had never needed to reveal their sect’s core techniques on previous missions—not out of secrecy, but because their teamwork made it unnecessary. Yet even in these simple exchanges, one could glimpse their true skills.

For instance, Lie Yankong’s Fire Sun Sect pursued the path of blazing celestial might, the way of yang. Shui Linglong’s style, true to her name, flowed as smoothly as water, embodying her sect’s quest for enlightenment through water. Lu Ming’s path was more straightforward—he followed the way of the sword. The Great Sword Azure Mountain had no single path but the sword itself. How its disciples practiced was their own affair—the sect simply provided myriad sword techniques, and how far one went depended on personal journey.

In the end, the sword is an instrument of death—its path is to cut down all before it.

Perhaps they were nearing the drought demon’s lair, or perhaps their recent battle had thinned the mist; either way, the fog was no longer as thick as before.

The four regrouped, cautiously surveying their surroundings.

Li Yu hadn’t seen all their moves, but he could feel the force behind each technique. He couldn’t help but blurt out, “That was amazing.”

Lie Yankong, hearing Li Yu’s praise, found the child amusing—unafraid, even enjoying the spectacle.

The three realized that if Li Yu could see the changes in yin and yang, it was little wonder he could also perceive their techniques.

Lie Yankong’s eyes glinted with mischief. He couldn’t resist asking, “So, who do you think is strongest?”

Lu Ming saw through the question, but didn’t mind; Shui Linglong, too, was aware that Lie Yankong hoped to recruit Li Yu for the Fire Sun Sect, but she was equally curious about his answer.

Li Yu knew it was a tricky question, but answered without hesitation, pointing solemnly at Lu Ming.

Though Lu Ming had expected this, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at Li Yu’s approval—a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Lie Yankong was nonchalant at first, but seeing Lu Ming’s expression, he suddenly felt a pang of frustration. “Why?” he demanded.

Shui Linglong, who had also guessed Li Yu’s answer, was equally curious and joined in. All three fixed their gaze on Li Yu.

Li Yu, undeterred, replied, “Because his attacks are the cleanest and most decisive.”

“But ours are clean and decisive too!” Lie Yankong protested.

Li Yu answered earnestly, “It’s not the same. Yours are quick, but not as crisp as his.”

Lie Yankong and Shui Linglong didn’t quite grasp the nuance of his words, or perhaps they simply overlooked the particular significance of “crisp.” They thought Li Yu simply favored Lu Ming because he could defeat two foes in one stroke.

But Lu Ming understood. He knew exactly what Li Yu meant by “crisp”—his sword path was the Way of Radiant Light.

At his age and cultivation, few could truly understand their own nature and choose their path. Lu Ming, owing to his innate talent as a Sword Embryo, had found his path sooner than most, but finding it and following it resolutely were not the same.

Now, for the first time, Lu Ming truly regarded Li Yu as a rare seed for swordsmanship—if only Li Yu could survive the trial that was soon to come.

They pressed onward. The fog thinned, replaced by waves of heat rolling toward them. Along the way, they dispatched several more groups who sought to block their path, though thankfully, their strength was little depleted.

The deeper they went, the drier the air became—yet not far ahead, a dense aura of water energy hung heavy in the air. The three exchanged glances, knowing they had reached the heart of the lair.