Two days after Xiao Lian's transformation, the sect was still healing.
Cain's wound had closed to a thin pink line. The bloodstone paste worked—slowly, painfully—but his arm was still weak. He could form blood blades, but holding them for more than a few seconds made the scar throb.
*Another week. Maybe less. But the Seeker won't wait a week.*
Su Yao's ribs were better. She could breathe deeply without wincing. Her flute had been repaired—a temporary fix, but enough for combat.
Xiao Lian had adjusted faster than Cain expected. Her hunger was manageable on animal blood. Her senses were sharpening daily. And her discovery about the night guard had proven useful.
---
"His heartbeat is wrong," Xiao Lian said again, standing with Cain and Su Yao behind the eastern storage sheds. "Too slow. Like he's drugged. Or pretending."
Cain extended his blood sense. The guard—a middle-aged man in outer disciple robes—stood at the shed's entrance, his posture slack. But his pulse was steady, deliberate. Not the rhythm of sleep.
*He's waiting for someone.*
"Stay here," Cain murmured to Xiao Lian. "If you feel anything—anyone approaching—whisper it to Su Yao."
"How?"
"Through the progenitor bond. Focus on me. I'll hear you."
He and Su Yao circled around the shed, keeping to the shadows. The guard didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the main path—watching for patrols.
*He's not a disciple. He's a lookout.*
Cain moved fast. One hand over the guard's mouth, a blood needle pressed to his throat.
"You have three seconds to tell me who you're waiting for."
The guard's eyes went wide. His pulse spiked. But he didn't speak.
Su Yao stepped closer, her flute raised. "I can make him talk. Sound techniques—painful, but effective."
"WARLORD," the guard gasped. "They paid me. Just to watch. To signal if anyone came near the eastern gate."
"Signal how?"
"A whistle. Three short bursts."
"When?"
"Tonight. They said someone would come tonight. Someone dangerous."
*The Seeker.*
Cain pressed the needle deeper. "Where are you supposed to meet him?"
"The old well. Behind the shed. He said he'd come at midnight."
Cain looked at Su Yao. She nodded.
"We'll be waiting," Cain said. He knocked the guard unconscious with a quick blow to the temple.
---
They had three hours until midnight.
Su Yao briefed her father. Su Chen ordered the eastern gate reinforced and stationed two Core Formation elders nearby—out of sight, but close enough to intervene.
"I won't let him walk into the sect again," Su Chen said. "But if I commit too many forces, he'll sense the trap and flee. You need to draw him out. Make him commit."
"He wants me," Cain said. "He'll come."
"Then be ready."
---
Xiao Lian insisted on coming.
"I can feel him before you can," she said. "His blood—it's different. Cold. Like he's not entirely alive."
*She's not wrong. The Seeker's cultivation has scarred him. His qi feels wrong.*
"Stay behind us," Cain said. "If he gets past us, run. Don't try to fight."
"I won't."
They took positions around the old well. The moon was half-full, casting pale light across the clearing. Cain hid behind a stack of crates. Su Yao climbed onto the shed's roof, her flute ready. Xiao Lian crouched in the shadows near the well's edge, her new senses stretched to their limit.
Through the progenitor bond, Cain felt a spike of cold terror—Xiao Lian's fear, sharp and immediate. But she didn't run. She stayed.
*Good. She's scared, but she's holding.*
Then her whisper echoed in his mind: *"He's here."*
Cain felt him a moment later. A cold presence at the edge of his blood sense—Core Formation, sharp and hungry. Han Xian stepped into the clearing, his grey robes almost invisible in the moonlight. His dagger glowed faintly—recharged, ready.
"I know you're here," the Seeker said. "Come out. Let's finish this."
Cain stepped out from behind the crates.
"You're earlier than expected."
"The guard didn't signal. I assumed he'd been compromised." Han Xian's smile was thin. "I came anyway. You're worth the risk."
He raised the dagger. The glow intensified.
Su Yao's flute sang—a piercing note aimed at the Seeker's spiritual channels. Han Xian flicked his free hand, deflecting the sound wave with a pulse of qi. But the distraction was enough.
Cain attacked.
Three blood needles streaked toward the Seeker's face. He dodged two, caught the third on his dagger's blade—it dissolved on contact. Cain followed with a blood blade, pressing close, forcing the Seeker to defend.
Han Xian was faster. His dagger carved a line across Cain's chest—shallow, but the blade's glow flared, draining the blood from the wound. Cain staggered, his regeneration stuttering.
*He's feeding the dagger with my blood.*
"You're predictable," Han Xian said. "Blood cultivators always are."
Su Yao's flute sang again—a different note, lower, meant to destabilize. The Seeker's concentration wavered for a heartbeat. Cain used the opening, dissolving into blood mist and flowing around him.
Han Xian swept the dagger through the mist. The blade's glow burned, forcing Cain to reform—but this time, Cain reformed *behind* him, a blood needle already in motion.
The needle struck the Seeker's shoulder. Not deep, but enough.
Han Xian hissed. His grip on the dagger faltered. The glow dimmed.
*It needs blood to stay charged. And I just made it spend energy.*
"Xiao Lian, now!" Cain shouted.
From the shadows, Xiao Lian threw a handful of dust—not ordinary dust, but powdered bloodstone, the same paste Yin Wuji had used on Cain's wound. The dust coated the Seeker's dagger, and the blade's glow sputtered.
"What—?" Han Xian stared at his weapon.
"It neutralizes blood residue," Cain said. "Yin Wuji's recipe. Takes a week to work on a wound. On a blade? Instant."
The Seeker's eyes went cold. He lunged at Xiao Lian.
Su Yao intercepted. Her flute cracked against his wrist—not enough to break bone, but enough to deflect. And as the flute struck, it also snapped a small vial on his belt—a backup blood supply. Dark liquid seeped onto the ground, useless.
Han Xian glanced at the broken vial, then at his sputtering dagger. His hand went to his chest—the jade amulet Su Chen had cracked was gone. Without it, another hit from the sect master could kill him.
"Your protector will be here soon," he said, stepping back. "I'll return when you're alone."
He turned and ran.
Cain pursued, but the Seeker was faster. By the time Cain reached the sect's eastern wall, Han Xian had vanished into the forest.
---
They regrouped at the old well.
Xiao Lian was shaking, but unhurt. Through the bond, Cain still felt the echo of her terror—but beneath it, a thread of pride. She had done her part.
Su Yao's flute was cracked again—she'd need another repair. But she was smiling.
"I got his blood vial," she said. "He won't be recharging that dagger easily."
Cain's chest wound was shallow, but the dagger's residue was already burning. "He'll be back. His dagger is weakened, but not broken. He needs fresh blood—strong blood. Mine."
"Then we don't let him get close," Su Yao said.
"We can't just defend. He'll keep trying until he succeeds." Cain looked at Xiao Lian. "You did well. The dust worked."
She managed a small smile. "It was your idea."
"It was Yin Wuji's recipe. You executed it."
Su Yao touched her cracked flute. "I need a new one. This is the second."
"We'll find you a better one. Something that won't break."
She nodded, but her eyes were distant.
*She's thinking about what comes next. About how close we came to losing.*
Cain put a hand on her shoulder. "We're alive. That's what matters."
"For now."
---
Back in the waterfall cave, Yin Wuji examined Cain's new wound.
"Same residue. The paste will work. But you're running out of bloodstone."
"How much do we have?"
"Enough for one more treatment. Maybe two." Yin Wuji's voice was grim. "The Seeker knows your tricks now. He won't fall for the dust again."
"Then we need a new trick."
Yin Wuji was quiet for a moment. "The dagger's weakness is its hunger. It needs blood—fresh, strong blood—to maintain its edge. If you can keep it from feeding, it'll drain itself."
"Easier said than done."
"Yes. But you have something he doesn't." Yin Wuji looked at Xiao Lian, who was sitting in the corner, practicing her blood sense. "A progeny. She can sense him before he arrives. She can warn you. That's an advantage."
"She's not combat-ready."
"She doesn't need to be. She just needs to be your eyes."
Cain considered. "We need to go on the offensive. Find his base. Hit him before he hits us."
"That's suicide."
"Staying here and waiting is also suicide. At least this way, we choose the ground."
Yin Wuji sighed. "You sound like me when I was young. Stupid and brave."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's a 'don't die.'"
---
That night, Cain sat with Su Yao on the roof of the outer disciples' quarters. The sect was quiet below them, the moon full overhead.
"You're really going to hunt him," she said.
"Yes."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"I know."
She looked at him. "No argument?"
"You'd come anyway. Arguing would be pointless."
She almost smiled. "You're learning."
"Three hundred years. I'm slow, but I get there."
They sat in silence for a while. Then Su Yao reached over and took his hand.
"When this is over—when the Seeker is dead—what then?"
"Then we go east. To the Blood River Sect. Find the second bloodstone."
"And after that?"
"I don't know. I've never planned that far ahead."
She squeezed his hand. "Maybe that's the point. Not knowing. Just… going."
"Together," he said.
"Together."
---
*In the watchtower's base, Han Xian sat in darkness, his dagger across his knees. The blade's glow was almost gone—just a faint red pulse, like a dying heartbeat.*
*He needed blood. Strong blood. The blood cultivator's blood.*
*But the cultivator was guarded. And now he had allies who knew his weapon's weakness.*
*"Allies," Han Xian murmured. "I've killed seventeen of your kind. Their allies didn't save them."*
*He stood and walked to the window. In the distance, the sect's lights flickered.*
*"Tomorrow. I'll take what I need tomorrow."*
*He began to sharpen the dagger again—not because it needed it, but because the motion calmed him.*
*"And then the hunt will be over."*